Come open the West Port, and let me gang free,

And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee !"

Dundee he is mounted, he rides up the street,

10 The bells are rung backward,1 the drums they are beat;

But the Provost,2 douces man, said, "Just e'en let him be,

The Gude Town is weel quit of that Deil of Dundee."

Come fill up my cup, etc.

As he rode down the sanctified bends of the Bow,*

15 Ilk carline was flyting and shaking her pow;7

But the young plants of grace they look'd
couthie and slee,8

Thinking, "Luck to thy bonnet, thou
Bonny Dundee!"'

Come fill up my cup, etc.

With sour-featured Whigs the Grassmarket was cramm'd

20 As if half the West had set tryst to be hang'd;

There was spite in each look, there was
fear in each e'e,

As they watch'd for the bonnets of Bonny
Dundee.

Come fill up my cup, etc.

These cowls of Kilmarnock had spits10 and had spears,

25 And lang-hafted gullies11 to kill Cavaliers;

But they shrunk to close-heads,12 and the
causeway was free,

At the toss of the bonnet of Bonny
Dundee.

Come fill up my cup, etc.

He spurr'd at the foot of the proud Castle rock,13

30 And with the gay Gordon he gallantly