The foe is advancing; make ready, brave men!
Arise every son of the mountain and glen !
Rush on to the combat, and let the knaves ken
                We’re sons of the soul –rousing thistle !

Rush on like the foam-crested billows that roar,
When lashing with fury our wild rocky shore !
The dear ones defending ye love and adore-
               Heap fame on the soul- rousing thistle !

Rush on like the light’ning and thunder of heaven,
When mountains majestic asunder are riven !
And give them the welcome your fathers have given
                A’ foes of the soul-rousing thistle !

To tyrants bend never; our banner’s unfurl’d,
A streamer of glory it waves o’er the world;
Though army on army against us be hurl’d,
                Stand fast for the soul-raising thistle !

Now clansmen, for freedom, your claymores unsheath,
Wave, wave them on high o’er  the dark purple heath,
Add laurels unrivall’d to honours bright wreath,
                Staunch sons of the soul-raising thistle !

Then on, my blue bonnets, to deaths gory stage;
And carve this proud motto on liberty’s page_
“we’ll hand down, unblemished, to each rolling age,
            The glorious soul-rousing thistle.