1.
Dost thou not rise, indignant Shade,
And smile wi' spurning scorn,
When they wha wad hae starved thy life
Thy senseless turf adorn?
2.
They wha about thee mak sic fuss
Now thou art but a name,
Wad seen thee damn'd ere they had spar'd
Ae plack to fill thy wame.
3.
Helpless, alane, thou clamb the brae
Wi' meikle honest toil,
And claucht th' unfading garland there,
Thy sair-won, rightful spoil.
4.
And wear it there! and call aloud
This axiom undoubted: --
Would thou hae Nobles' patronage?
First learn to live without it!
5.
'To whom hae much, more shall be given'
Is every great man's faith;
But he, the helpless, needful wretch,
Shall lose the mite he hath.

Do you not rise, indignant Shade,
And smile with spurning scorn,
When they who would have starved your life
Your senseless turf adorn?

They who about you make such fuss
Now you are but a name,
Would have seen you damned ere they had spared
One farthing (1/4 penny) to fill your belly.

Helpless, alone, you climbed the hillside
With much honest toil,
And clutched the unfading garland there,
Your sore-won, rightful spoil.

And wear it there! and call aloud
This axiom undoubted: --
Would you have Nobles' patronage?
First learn to live without it!

'To whom have much, more shall be given'
Is every great man's faith;
But he, the helpless, needful wretch,
Shall lose the mite he has.