WAE worth thy pow’r, thou cursed leaf!
Fell source of all my woe and grief!
For lake o' thee I've lost my lass;
For lake o' thee I scrimp my glass;
I see the children of Affliction
Unaided, thro’ thy curst restriction;
I've seen the Oppressor's cruel smile
Amid his hapless victim's spoil;
And for thy potence vainly wish’d
To crush the Villain in the dust:
For lake o' thee, I leave this much-lov'd shore,
Never perhaps to greet old Scotland more!