Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Fruin,
And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied; 420
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; 425
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! 430
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!"