I.

Stir the beal-fire, wave the banner, Bid the thundering cannon sound-- Rend the skies with acclamation, Stun the woods and waters round-- Till the echoes of our gathering Turn the world's admiring gaze To this act of duteous homage Scotland to her poet pays. Fill the banks and braes with music, Be it loud and low by turns-- This we owe the deathless glory, That the hapless fate of Burns.