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Then, O revere the coggie, sirs !
Our brave forefathers coggie !
It rous'd them up to doughty deeds.
O'er which we'll lang be vogie.
Then, here's may Scotland ne'er fa' down,
A cringing coward doggie,
But bauldly stand and bang the loon,
Wha'd reave her of her coggie.
Then, O protect the coggie, sirs !
Our good auld mother's coggie !
Nor let her luggie e'er be drain'd
By ony foreign roguie.
THE END,
J. NEILSONo PRINTER.

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