Cauld blew the bitter-biting north Scarce rear'd above the parent-earth The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield, High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield, O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, There, in thy scanty mantle clad, But now the share uptears thy bed, Such is the fate of artless Maid, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Such is the fate of simple Bard, 15 20 25 330 35 Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight, BANNOCKBURN. ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY. TUNE-"Hey tuttie tattie." SCOTS, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Or to victorie. Now's the day, and now's the hour; See approach proud Edward's power- Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's King and law Let him on wi' me! By oppression's woes and pains! But they shall be free! Lay the proud usurpers low! Let us do, or die! 50 5 ΙΟ 15 20 What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-grey, and a' that; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that. A prince can mak a belted knight, For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, Their pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, 20 25 30 35 May bear the gree, and a' that. For a' that, and a' that, It's coming yet, for a' that, That man to man, the warld o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that. COLERIDGE. THE ANCIENT MARINER. PART I. IT is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 66 By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? "The bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; 5 66 Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!" Eftsoons his hand dropt he. |