Xx

Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Fruin, And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied; Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, And the best of Loch-Lomond lie dead on her side. Widow and Saxon maid Long shall lament our raid, Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe; Lennox and Leven-glen Shake when they hear again "Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!"

Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the highlands! Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green Pine! O that the rose-bud that graces yon islands, Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine! O that some seedling gem, Worthy such noble stem, Honored and blest in their shadow might grow; Loud should Clan-Alpine then Ring from her deepmost glen, "Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!"