Then to the king made answer
Oggier, the christened Dane :
"When stands the iron harvest
Ripe on the Lombard plain,
That stiff harvest which is reaped
With sword of knight and peer,
Then by that sign ye may divine
That Charlemagne is near.

"When round the Lombard cities
The iron flood shall flow,

A swifter flood than Ticin,
A broader flood than Po,
Frothing white with many a plume,
Dark blue with many a spear,
Then by that sign ye may divine
That Charlemagne is near."

- LORD MACAULAY.

4.

THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN.

BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS MEN.

SCOTS, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,

Or to glorious liberty!

Now's the day and now's the hour:
See the front o' battle lour:

See approach proud Edward's power

Edward! chains and slavery!

Wha will be a traitor knave?

Wha can fill a coward's grave?

Wha sae base as be a slave?

Traitor! coward! turn, and flee!

Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freemen stand, or freemen fa',
Caledonian! on wi' me!

By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,

But they shall be-shall be free!

Come from deep glen, and
From mountain so rocky;
The war-pipe and pennon
Are at Inverlocky.
Come every hill-plaid, and

True heart that wears one,
Come every steel blade, and
Strong hand that bears one.

Leave untended the herd,
The flock without shelter;
Leave the corpse uninterr'd,
The bride at the altar;
Leave the deer, leave the steer,
Leave nets and barges :
Come with your fighting gear,
Broadswords and targes.

Come as the winds come, when

Forests are rended,

Come as the waves come, when
Navies are stranded:

Faster come, faster come,

Faster and faster,

Chief, vassal, page and groom,

Tenant and master.

Fast they come, fast they come;
See how they gather!
Wide waves the eagle plume

Blended with heather.

Cast your plaids, draw your blades,

Forward each man set!

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu

Knell for the onset!

6.

KILLIECRANKIE.

(The Burial-March of Dundee.)

On the heights of Killiecrankie
Yester-morn our army lay:
Slowly rose the mist in columns
From the river's broken way;
Hoarsely roared the swollen torrent,
And the Pass was wrapt in gloom,
When the clansmen rose together

From their lair amidst the broom.
Then we belted on our tartans,

And our bonnets down we drew, And we felt our broadsword's edges, And we proved them to be true; And we prayed the prayer of soldiers, And we cried the gathering-cry, And we clasped the hands of kinsmen, And we swore to do or die!

Then our leader rode before us

On his war-horse black as night — Well the Cameronian rebels

Knew that charger in the fight! – And a cry of exultation

From the bearded warriors rose; For we loved the house of Claver'se, And we thought of good Montrose, But he raised his hand for silence

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'Soldiers! I have sworn a vow: Ere the evening star shall glisten

On Schehallion's lofty brow,

Either we shall rest in triumph,

Or another of the Græmes Shall have died in battle-harness

For his country and King James! Think upon the Royal Martyr

Think of what his race endure — Think of him whom butchers murdered On the field of Magus Muir :By his sacred blood I charge ye, By the ruined hearth and shrine — By the blighted hopes of Scotland, By your injuries and mine— Strike this day as if the anvil

Lay beneath your blows the while, Be they covenanting traitors,

Or the brood of false Argyle! Strike! and drive the trembling rebels Backwards o'er the stormy Forth; Let them tell their pale Convention How they fared within the North. Let them tell that Highland honor Is not to be bought or sold, That we scorn their prince's anger As we loathe his foreign gold. Strike! and when the fight is over, If ye look in vain for me,

Where the dead are lying thickest, Search for him that was Dundee!"

Loudly then the hills re-echoed

With our answer to his call,

But a deeper echo sounded
In the bosoms of us all.