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Of our ancestors, brave true ancient Scots, |
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Whose glorious shields knew no bars no blots; |
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But blood untained circled every vein, |
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And every thing ignoble did disdain. |
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In the fifteenth century a poet was born, |
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He could never see the light from outside his eyes, |
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All he needed was his mind and a convincing heart. |
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Of such illustrations patriots and bold, |
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Who stoutly did maintain our rights of old, |
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Who their malicious, and inveterate foes. |
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With sword in hand, did gallantly oppose. |
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Blind Harry! Your vision has inspired many people |
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Blind Harry! Pioneer of this deep heart feeling |
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Immortal are your writings, |
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Still encouraging a nation. |
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Noble man still alive, |
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The country is saluting you. |
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Blind Harry! Your vision has inspired many people |
|
Blind Harry! Pioneer of this deep heart feeling |
|
Blind Harry! Immortal are your writings |
|
Blind Harry! Still encouraging a nation |
