O Kenmure’s on and awa, Willie!

O Kenmure’s on and awa!

And Kenmure’s lord’s the bravest lord

That ever Galloway saw.

Success to Kenmure’s band, Willie!

Success to Kenmure’s band;

There’s no a heart that fears a Whig

That rides by Kenmure’s hand.

Here’s Kenmure’s health in wine, Willie!

Here’s Kenmure’s health in wine;

There ne’er was a coward o’ Kenmure’s blude,

Nor yet o’ Gordon’s line.

O Kenmure’s lads are men, Willie!

O Kenmure’s lads are men;

Their hearts and swords are metal true—

And that their faes shall ken.

They’ll live or die wi’ fame, Willie!

They’ll live or die wi’ fame;

But soon, wi’ sounding victorie,

May Kenmure’s lord come hame!

Here’s him that’s far awa, Willie!

Here’s him that’s far awa;

And here’s the flower that I love best—

The rose that’s like the snaw!