Boat Song
Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!
Honored and blessed
be the ever-green Pine!
Long may the tree, in his banner that glances,
Flourish, the shelter
and grace of our line!
Heaven
send it happy dew,
Earth
lend it sap anew,
Gayly to bourgeon and
broadly to grow,
While
every Highland glen
Sends
our shout back again,
‘Roderigh Vich
Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!’
Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain,
Blooming at Beltane,
in winter to fade;
When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the
mountain,
The more shall Clan-Alpine
exult in her shade.
Moored
in the rifted rock,
Proof
to the tempest’s shock,
Firmer he roots him
the ruder it blow;
Menteith
and Breadalbane, then,
Echo
his praise again,
‘Roderigh Vich
Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!’
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