“ That would stop from going to fair Gallowa’.
But alas for poor Smugglers, their spirits are broke,
And I have got wearied in bearing the yoke;
But I hope to live happy, as happy can be,
And make a drap Whisky in the south countrie. ”

“ When my confinement is done at home, I will not stay;
As I have a good offer, I will go away:
Heaven pity poor Britons under the Corn-Law,
For I hope I’ll be free (illegible text) , when in Gallowa’.
My brothers have fought for their country’s weal,
With undaunted courage and hearts true as steel;
Tho’ William was wounded they never did sa’,
So I’ll drink a health to them, when in Gallowa’.
Altho’ that the mountains between us be-high,
Where nothing but muirfowls and plevers do fly,
I’ll still pity Scotland under the Corn-Law,
When I’m making Whisky in fair Gallowa’. ”

“ If they don’t get repentance, the worse for themsel’,
So I’d have them to pray wherever they be,
For the unfounded falsehoods they swore against me.
But praying, I think, is what they wont do,
And therefore I wish for ill trade to the crew;
But may Heaven, with pity, look down on the three,
And grant them repentance, and grace that is free.
And now, my dear friends, I bid you farewel,
My (illegible text) ‘s grown to weary no more will she tell ”