Scotia
felt thine ire, O Odin
On the bloody field of Flodden
There our fathers fell with honour
Round their King and Country's banner. Chorus: Teribus ye Teri-Odin
Sons of heroes slain at Flodden
Imitating Border bowmen
Aye defend your rights and Common.
'Twas then Drumlanrig, gen'rous donor
Gave (immortal be his honour)
What might sooth Hawick's dire disaster
Land for tillage, peats and pasture.
Sacred was the widow's portion
Sacred long from all extortion
Frugal temperance urged no cesses
Birthday rates, nor baillies' messes.
After Flodden was decided
Surrey had his troops divided
When he turned them loose to plunder
O, heaven just! Why slept thy thunder?
At the word each fiend advances
Flodden's blood yet dimmed their lances
Entering hamlet, town or village
Marked their way with blood and pillage.
Far they spread this dire disorder
O'er fair Scotia's Alpine border
O'er the vales of Tweed and Teviot
'Tween Moffat hills and lofty Cheviot.
Hawick they left in ruins lying
Nought was heard but widows crying:
Labour of all kinds neglected
Orphans wandering unprotected.
All were sunk in deep dejection
Non to flee to for protection
Till some youths who stayed from Flodden
Rallied up by Teriodin.
Armed with sword, with bow and quiver
Shouting, "Vengence now or never"
Off they marched in martial order
Down by Teviot's flowery border.
Nigh where Teviot falls sonorous
Into Hornshole dashing furious
Lay their foes with spoil encumbered
All was still each sentry slumbered.
Hawick destroyed, their slaughtered sires -
Scotia's wrongs each bosom fires -
On they rush to be victorious
Or to fall in battle glorious.
Down they threw their bows and arrows
Drew their swords like veteran heroes
Charged the foe with native valour
Routed them and took their colour.
|
Now with
spoil and honours laden
Well revenged for fatal Flodden
Home they marched, this flag displaying -
Teribus before them playing. Numbers more our heroes aiding
Soon they checked all base marauding
English bands, in wild disorder
Fled for safety o'er the border!
High the trump of fame did raise them
Poets of those times did praise them -
Sung their feats in muirland ballants
Scotia's boast was, "Hawick's Callants."
Scarce a native glen or mountain -
Rugged rock or running fountain
But have seen those youths with bravery
Fight the tools of southern slavery.
Thus we boast a Muir and colour
Won by deeds of hardy valor -
Won in fields where victory swithered -
Won when Scotia's laurels withered.
Annual since our flag's been carried
Round our Muir by men unmarried
Emblem grand of those who on it -
Matrimonial hands would stain it.
Magistrates! Be faithful trustees
Equal poise the scales of justice
See our common rightly guidit
quirky lairds nae mair divide it.
"Hawick shall triumph 'mid destruction,"
Was a Druid's dark prediction
Strange the issues that unrolled it
Centuries after he'd foretold it.
Back to fable-shaded eras
We can trace a race of heroes
Hardy, brave, inured to perils
Foreign wars and feudal quarrels.
Spite of levelling conflagration
Spite of swelling inundation
Spite of frequent lawless pillage
Hawick arose by trade and tillage.
Imitating Rome and Sparta
Practised patriotic virtue
Wisely taught each art and science
Bravely bade her foes defiance.
Peace be thy portion, Hawick for ever!
Thine arts, thy commerce, flourish ever!
Down to latest ages send it -
HAWICK WAS EVER INDEPENDENT!
Hawick was ever independent!
Hawick was ever independent!
Down to latest ages send it -
Hawick was ever independent! |
