1.
Ye sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie
To follow the noble vocation,
Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another
To sit in that honoured station!
I've little to say, but only to pray
(As praying's the ton of your fashion).
A prayer from the Muse you well may excuse
('Tis seldom her favourite passion):-
2.
' Ye Powers who preside o'er the wind and the tide,
Who marked each element's border,
Who formed this frame with beneficial aim,
Whose sovereign statue is order,
Within this dear mansion my wayward Contention
Or withered Envy ne'er enter!
May secrecy round be the mystical bound,
And brotherly Love be the centre!'

You sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie
To follow the noble vocation,
Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another
To sit in that honoured station!
I have little to say, but only to pray
(As praying is the ton of your fashion).
A prayer from the Muse you well may excuse
(It is seldom her favourite passion):-

' You Powers who preside over the wind and the tide,
Who marked each element's border,
Who formed this frame with beneficial aim,
Whose sovereign statue is order,
Within this dear mansion my wayward Contention
Or withered Envy never enter!
May secrecy round be the mystical bound,
And brotherly Love be the centre!'