Supposed to be written by one of the James's, certainly not by King James the I. or King James the V. but probably by one of the house of Stuart.
Tune, - Sheriff Muir.
There's some say that they're Whigs,
And some say that we're Whigs,
And some say there's nae Whigs ava man;
But ae thing I'm sure,
A pauky Whig-doer,
'S the Whig that out-whiggifies a' man.
CHORUS: And they crack and we tak,
And they tak and we crack,
And we tak and they crack awa' man.
For conscience the auld Whigs,
Was sterlin' and bauld Whigs,
And gi'ed their oppressors a claw man,
But now Whigs for sillar,
(Their calf on the pillar.)
Ken nought about conscience ava man.
The de'il took the lawyer,
And left the poor sawyer,
He was na a mouse to his paw man;
Oure straught was his mark man,
But a Whig signet clerk man,
Can ony thing, ony way thraw man.
They rant about Freedom,
But when ye hae fee'd 'em,
Cry het or cry cauld, and they'll blaw man:
Tak him maist rampagant,
And mak him kings agent,
And hech! how his fury will fa' man?
There's stot-feeder Stuart,
Kent for that fat-cow-art,
How glegly he kicks ony ba', man;
And Gibson, lang chiel man,
Whase height might serve weel, man,
To read his ane name on a wa', man.
Your knights of the pen, man,
Are a' gentlemen, man,
Ilk body's a limb o' the law, man;
Tacks, bonds, precognitions,
Bills, wills and petitions,
And ought but a trigger some draw, man.
Sae foul fa' backbiters,
Wha rin down sic writers,
Wha fatten sae brave and sae braw man;
Ilk Whiggish believer,
Ilk priviledged rievar,
Come join in a hearty huzza man.
Embro, Embro Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin
