Dear people, swelled in fool's wisdom
And clinging to error so fanciful,
To the skies, adorned in hosts of fair stars,
Look up - and make bright your dimlit minds! ...
Peace is happiness, but war is our plight
Under the heavens. He -- prince of the night,
Severe captain-- and the World's vanity
Work for our corruption diligently. ...
Unequalled Virgin, the second ornament
Of the human race, whose dignity has not diminished
Her humility, nor has humility lessened her generosity of heart,
O rare Mother of her own Creator! ...
1 It was a' for our rightful king
2 That we left fair Scotland's strand;
3 It was a' for our rightful king
4 We e'er saw Irish land,
5 My dear,
6 We e'er saw Irish land.