And give him a right good welcome,
back to the world again.
With such a pilot at the helm, our mental
ship to steer,
We’ll face the stormy elements without a
flinch or fear.
But John has gone from us awhile, to
have a peaceful rest,
And wander by the silvery sea with them
that love him best:
So wait until summer with its flowery
Then rally round our hero-stern fighter
for his class.
His children went to bed each night, to
dream about their dad:
His wife sat down beside the hearth, so
lonely and so sad,
And listened for his footsteps; but, alas,
‘twas all in vain,
For prison walls were strong and high
that guarded John MacLean.
And we, the rebels, who took part in this
Congratulates ourselves that we have surely
won the day.
So let us raise the people’s flag, wherever
we may roam,
For all, the Clyde deported men are now
at Home, Sweet Home.
We smile, and ponder o’er the farce that
When wise men of the ruling class did
meet in great display,
To hail the mighty conqueror; but he
could not subdue,
The men who claim the right to think and
speak as men should do.
And so they set themselves the sham
affairs to spoil:
In dongarees and faces grim, and horny
hands with toil,
They marched along from street to street,
their purpose to make known;
The freedom of the city they transferred
from GEORGE to John.
Now let us stop this bloody game and
hush the cannon’s roar,
And beat the swords to ploughshares and
practice war no more.
The nations of the earth shall then be free
from shot and shell,
Free from this ghastly horror, reckoned
the mouth of hell.
Here let us pledge ourselves anew, with
heads uncovered swear,
In all the fights for Freedom we will
gladly take our share.
And surely we must triumph in this most
To usher in the Social State, the Brother-
hood of Man.