To the Lords of Convention 'twas Claver'se who spoke,
‘Ere the King's crown shall fall there are crowns to be broke;
So let each Cavalier who loves honour and me,
Come follow the bonnet of Bonny Dundee.’

‘Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle your horses, and call up your men;
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,
The bells are rung backward, the drums they are beat;
But the Provost, douce 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,
Ilk carline was flyting and shaking her pow;
But the young plants of grace they look'd couthie and slee,
Thinking, ‘Luck to thy bonnet, thou Bonny Dundee’.

‘Come fill up my cup’, etc.