Correction to second verse:
Though he was but a plooman lad
And wore the hodden grey,
Auld Scotland's sweetext bards were bred
Beneath a roof o' strae.
To sweep the strains o' Scotia's lyre
It needs nae classic lore;
It's heart o' pith and native fire
That warms the bosom's core.

Words by James Thompson, music by James Booth. This for me is THE Burns Supper song, and I always get the assembly to sing it at the suppers I manage.