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, blood
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,