March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale: Why, my lads, dinna ye march forward in order? March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale; All the blue bonnets are over the border. Many a banner spread flutters above your head, Many a crest that is famous in story; Mount and make ready then, sons of the mountain glen, Fight for your Queen, and the old Scottish glory.
Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing; Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing; Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. Trumpets are sounding, war-steeds are bounding;- Stand to your arms, and march in good order; England shall many a day tell of the bloody fray, When the blue bonnets came over the border,
