O WHA will to Saint Stephen's house,
To do our errands there, man;
O wha will to Saint Stephen's house,
O' th' merry lads of Ayr, man?
Or will ye send a Man-o'- law,
Or will ye send a Sodger?
Or him wha led o'er Scotland a'
The meikle URSA MAJOR?

Come, will ye court a noble Lord,
Or buy a score o' Lairds, man?
For Worth and Honor pawn their word
Their vote shall be Glencaird's, man?
Ane gies them coin, ane gies them wine,
Anither gies them clatter;
Annbank, wha guess'd the ladies taste,
He gies a Fête Champetre.---

When Love and Beauty heard the news,
The gay green-woods amang, man,
Where gathering flowers and busking bowers
They heard the blackbird's sang, man;
A vow they seal'd it with a kiss,
Sir Politicks to fetter,
As theirs alone the Patent-bliss,
To hold a Fête Champetre.---

Then mounted Mirth, on gleesome wing,
O'er hill and dale she flew, man;
Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring,
Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man:
She summon'd every SOCIAL SPRITE,
That sports by wood or water,
On th' bony Banks of Ayr to meet
And keep this Fête Champetre.------

Cauld Boreas, wi' his boisterous crew,
Were bound to stakes like kye, man;
And Cynthia's car, o' silver fu',
Clamb up the starry sky, man:
Reflected beams dwell in the streams,
Or down the current shatter;
The western breeze steals through the trees,
To view this Fête Champetre.------

How many a robe sae gayly floats!
What sparkling jewels glance, man!
To HARMONY's enchanting notes
As moves the mazy dance, man!
The echoing wood, the winding flood,
Like Paradise did glitter,
When Angels met, at Adam's yet,
To hold their Fête Champetre.------

When Politics cam there, to mix
And make his ether-stane, man,
He circl’d round the magic ground,
But entrance found he nane, man:
He blush'd for shame, he quat his name,
Forswore it every letter,
Wi' humble prayer to join and share
This festive Fête Champetre.----