Whose ruin is not far,
Just Heav'n on thy devoted head
Pour all the woes of war!
8.
When thou thy slaughter'd little ones
And ravish'd dames shalt see,
Such help, such pity may'st thou have
As Scotland had from thee.
Whose ruin is not far,
Just Heav'n on thy devoted head
Pour all the woes of war!
8.
When thou thy slaughter'd little ones
And ravish'd dames shalt see,
Such help, such pity may'st thou have
As Scotland had from thee.