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Pàgina 14 - All last night we watched the beacons Blazing on the hills afar, ] Each one bearing, as it kindled, Message of the opened war. All night long the northern streamers Shot across the trembling sky : Fearful lights, that never beckon Save when kings or heroes die. j News of battle ! who hath brought it ? All are thronging to the gate ; " Warder — warder ! open quickly ! Man — is this a time to wait...
Pàgina 42 - Old forms go trooping past: I hear the pibroch wailing Amidst the din of fight, And my dim spirit wakes again Upon the verge of night.
Pàgina 48 - ... kings were throned Amidst their nobles all. But there was dust of vulgar feet On that polluted floor, And perjured traitors filled the place Where good men sate before. With savage glee came Warristoun, To read the murderous doom ; And then uprose the great Montrose In the middle of the room.
Pàgina 42 - Assynt's name — Be it upon the mountain's side, Or yet within the glen, Stand he in martial gear alone, Or backed by armed men — Face him, as thou wouldst face the man Who wronged thy sire's renown; Remember of what blood thou art, And strike the caitiff down!
Pàgina 114 - Vainly sped the withering volley 'Mongst the foremost of our band, — On we poured until we met them, Foot to foot, and hand to hand. Horse and man went down like drift-wood When the floods are black at Yule, And their carcasses are whirling In the Garry's deepest pool. Horse and man went down before us,— Living foe there tarried none On the field of Killiecrankie, When that stubborn fight was done!
Pàgina 58 - gainst treason's might, This hand hath always striven, And ye raise it up for a witness still In the eye of earth and heaven. Then nail my head on yonder tower — Give every town a limb — And God who made shall gather them : I go from you to Him...
Pàgina 68 - Sound by the rocky shore. Then down we went, a hundred knights, All in our dark array, And flung our armor in the ships That rode within the bay.
Pàgina 108 - SOUND the fife, and cry the slogan — Let the pibroch shake the air With its wild triumphal music, Worthy of the freight we bear! Let the ancient hills of Scotland Hear once more the battle-song Swell within their glens and valleys As the clansmen march along ! Never from the field of combat, Never from the deadly fray, Was a nobler trophy carried Than we bring with us to-day...
Pàgina 113 - Boon we heard a challenge-trumpet Sounding in the Pass below, And the distant tramp of horses, And the voices of the foe ; Down we crouched amid the bracken. Till the Lowland ranks drew near, Panting like the hounds in summer, When they scent the stately deer. From the dark defile emerging, Next we saw the squadrons come, Leslie's foot and Leven's troopers Marching to the tuck of drum ; Through the scattered wood of birches, O'er the broken ground and heath, "Wound the long battalion slowly.