Skip to main content

Home
Site Search Box
About Us
SRSM Constitution
Contact Us
Press Releases
Workers Control
1320 Arbroath
1638 Convenanters
1692 Glencoe
1707 Act of Union
Highland Clearances
1797 Insurrection
1820 Radicals
Radical Rebellion
James Wilson
Alexander Rodger
Calton Weavers
Robert Burns
Thomas Muir
John MacLean
APG - The Tartan Army
Willie MacRae
Archives Library
Articles Library
Memoriam
Events
Gallery 1
Song book
 
 
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
 
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,

The great "DEFENDER OF THE FAITH,"

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.