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Poem	O KENMURE’S on and awa, Willie, O Kenmure’s on and awa: An’ 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’s ne’er 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 foes shall ken. They’ll live or die wi’ fame, Willie; They’ll live or die wi’ fame; But sune, 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 loe best, The rose that’s like the snaw.
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