RED roses under the sun For the King who is lord of land; But he dies when his day is done, For his memory careth none When the glass runs empty of sand. White roses under the moon For the King without lands to give; But he reigns with the reign of June, With the rose and the Blackbird’s tune, And he lives while Faith shall live. Red roses for beef and beer; Red roses for wine and gold; But they drank of the water clear, In exile and sorry cheer, To the kings of our sires of old. Red roses for wealth and might; White roses for hopes that flee; And the dreams of the day and the night, For the Lord of our heart’s delight— For the King that is o’er the sea. _The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond_. 1746. THERE’S an ending o’ the dance, and fair Morag’s safe in France, And the Clans they hae paid the lawing, And the wuddy has her ain, and we twa are left alane, Free o’ Carlisle gaol in the dawing. So ye’ll tak the high road, and I’ll tak the laigh road, An’ I’ll be in Scotland before ye: But me and my true love will never meet again, By the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond. For my love’s heart brake in twa, when she kenned the Cause’s fa’, And she sleeps where there’s never nane shall waken, Where the glen lies a’ in wrack, wi’ the houses toom and black, And her father’s ha’s forsaken. While there’s heather on the hill shall my vengeance ne’er be still, While a bush hides the glint o’ a gun, lad; Wi’ the men o’ Sergeant Môr shall I work to pay the score, Till I wither on the wuddy in the sun, lad! So ye’ll tak the high road, and I’ll tak the laigh road, An’ I’ll be in Scotland before ye: But me and my true love will never meet again, By the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond. _Kenmure_. 1715. “THE heather’s in a blaze, Willie, The White Rose decks the tree, The Fiery Cross is on the braes, And the King is on the sea! “Remember great Montrose, Willie, Remember fair Dundee, And strike one stroke at the foreign foes Of the King that’s on the sea. “There’s Gordons in the North, Willie, Are rising frank and free, Shall a Kenmure Gordon not go forth For the King that’s on the sea? “A trusty sword to draw, Willie, A comely weird to dree, For the Royal Rose that’s like the snaw, And the King that’s on the sea!” He cast ae look across his lands, Looked over loch and lea, He took his fortune in his hands, For the King was on the sea. Kenmures have fought in Galloway For Kirk and Presbyt’rie, This Kenmure faced his dying day, For King James across the sea.