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Alexander Rodger


Alexander Rodger, the radical Paisley poet of the 1820s, was scathingly anti-royalist. In 1822 George IV visited Edinburgh. Sir Walter Scott for the occasion thought on a royalist song perhaps as old as the Commonweath, Carle, An The King Come. He wrote a long congratulatory poem, Carle, Now The King’s Come. Scott was furious when Alexander Rodger weighed in with,

Sawney, now the king's come,  [Chorus]

Sawney, now the king's come,

Kneel, and kiss his gracious -

Sawney, now the king's come.


In Holyroodehouse lodge him snug,

And butter weel his royal lug,

Wi' stuff wad gar a Frenchman ugg,

Sawney, now the king's come.


Tell him he is great and good,

And come o' Scottish royal blood-

To your hunkers - lick his fud -

Sawney, now the king's come.


Swear he's sober, chaste and wise,

Praise his portly shape and size,

Roose his whiskers to the skies,

Sawney, now the king's come.


Mak' your lick-fud bailie core,

Extoll till they rin short o' breath,


Sawney, now the king's come.


Mak' your Peers o' high degree,

Crouching low on bended knee,

Greet him wi' a "Wha wants me?"

Sawney, now the king's come.


Mak' his glorious kinship dine,

On good sheep-heads and haggis fine,

Hotchpotch too, Scoth collops syne,

Sawney, now the king's come.


And if there's in St. James' Square,

Ony thing's that's fat and fair,

Treat him nightly wi' sich ware,

Sawney, now the king's come.


Shaw him a' your biggins braw,

Your castle, college, brigs an' a',

Your jail, an' royal forty-twa,

Sawney, now the king's come.


An' when he rides Auld Reekie through,

To bless you wi' a kingly view,

Charm him wi' your "Gardyloo,"

Sawney, now the king's come.