NIGHT and morning were at meeting
Over Waterloo;

Cocks had sung their earliest greeting;
Faint and low they crew;

For no paly beam yet shone
On the heights of Mount Saint John;
Tempest-clouds prolong'd the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower,
Mark'd it a predestined hour.
Broad and frequent through the night
Flash'd the sheets of levin-light;
Muskets, glancing lightnings back,
Show'd the dreary bivouac

Where the soldier lay,

Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain,
Wishing dawn of morn again,

Though death should come with day.
II.

"Tis at such a tide and hour,

Wizard, witch, and fiend have power,
And ghastly forms through mist and shower
Gleam on the gifted ken;

And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear
Presaging death and ruin near

Among the sons of men ;-
Apart from Albyn's war-array,
"Twas then gray Allan sleepless lay;
Gray Allan, who, for many a day,
Had follow'd stout and stern,

Where, through battle's rout and reel,

4 Originally published in 1815, in the Edinburgh Anna Register, vol. v.

MS.-" Dawn and darkness."

Storm of shot and hedge of steel, Led the grandson of Lochiel,

Valiant Fassiefern.

Through steel and shot he leads no more,
Low laid 'mid friends' and foemen's gore-
But long his native lake's wild shore,
And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower,
And Morven long shall tell,

And proud Bennevis hear with awe,
How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra
Of conquest as he fell.'

III.

'Lone on the outskirts of the host,
The weary sentinel held post,

And heard, through darkness far alcof,
The frequent clang of courser's hoof,

Where held the cloak'd patrol their course, And spurr'd 'gainst storm the swerving horse,

But there are sounds in Allan's ear,

Patrol nor sentinel may hear,

And sights before his eye aghast
Invisible to them have pass'd,

When down the destined plain,

"Twixt Britain and the bands of France,
Wild as marsh-borne meteor's glance,
Strange phantoms wheel'd a revel dance,
And doom'd the future slain.—

Such forms were seen, such sounds were

Our airy feet,

So light and fleet,

They do not bend the rye

That sinks its head when whirlwinds

rave,

And swells again in eddying wave,

As each wild gust blows by; But still the corn,

At dawn of morn,

Our fatal steps that bore,

At eve lies waste,

A trampled paste

Of blackening mud and gore.

V.

"Wheel the wild dance

While lightnings glance,

And thunders rattle loud,

And call the brave

To bloody grave,

To sleep without a shroud.

Wheel the wild dance!

Brave sons of France,

For you our ring makes room;

Make space full wide

For martial pride,

For banner, spear, and plume. Approach, draw near,

Proud cuirassier!

Room for the men of steel!

Through crest and plate

The broadsword's weight

Both head and heart shall feel.

VI.

"Wheel the wild dance While lightnings glance,

And thunders rattle loud, And call the brave To bloody grave,

To sleep without a shroud.

Sons of the spear!
You feel us near

In many a ghastly dream;
With fancy's eye

Our forms you spy,

And hear our fatal scream.

With clearer sight

Ere falls the night,

Just when to weal or woe

Your disembodied souls take flight

On trembling wing-each startled sprite Our choir of death shall know.

See ante, Marmion, canto v. stanzas 24, 25, 26, and Ap pendix, Note 4 A, p. 173

"My arm it is my country's right,
My heart is in my lady's bower;
Resolved for love and fame to fight,
I come, a gallant Troubadour."

Even when the battle-roar was deep,
With dauntless heart he hew'd his way,
'Mid splintering lance and falchion-sweep,
And still was heard his warrior-lay:
"My life it is my country's right,

My heart is in my lady's bower; For love to die, for fame to fight, Becomes the valiant Troubadour."

Alas! upon the bloody field

He fell beneath the foeman's glaive, But still reclining on his shield,

Expiring sung the exulting stave:"My life it is my country's right,

My heart is in my lady's bower; For love and fame to fall in fight Becomes the valiant Troubadour."

From the French.'

1815.

Ir chanced that Cupid on a season,
By Fancy urged, resolved to wed,
But could not settle whether Reason
Or Folly should partake his bed.
What does he then ?-Upon my life,
"Twas bad example for a deity-
He takes me Reason for a wife,

And Folly for his hours of gayety. Though thus he dealt in petty treason, He loved them both in equal measure; Fidelity was born of Reason,

And Folly brought to bed of Pleasure.

Song,

ON THE LIFTING OF THE BANNER OF THE HOUSE OF BUCCLEUCH, AT A GREAT FOOT-BALL MATCH ON CARTERHAUGH.2

1815.

FROM the brown crest of Newark its summons extending,

Our signal is waving in smoke and in flame;

This trifle also is from the French Collection, found at Waterloo. See Paul's Letters.

2 This song appears with Music in Mr. G. Thomson's Colection-1826. The foot-ball match on which it was written

And each forester blithe, from his mountain descending,

Bounds light o'er the heather to join in the game.

CHORUS.

Then up with the Banner, let forest winds fan her, She has blazed over Ettrick eight ages and more, In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her,

With heart and with hand, like our fathers before

When the Southern invader spread waste and disorder,

At the glance of her crescents he paused and withdrew,

For around them were marshall'd the pride of the Border,

The Flowers of the Fore, the Bands of Buo

CLEUCH.

Then up with the Banner, &c.

A Stripling's weak hand to our revel has borne her, No mail-glove has grasp'd her, no spearmen surround;

But ere a bold foeman should scathe or should

scorn her,

A thousand true hearts would be cold on the ground.

Then up with the Banner, &c.

We forget each contention of civil dissensiou,

And hail, like our brethren, HOME, DOUGLAS, and

CAR:

And ELLIOT and PRINGLE in pastime shall mingle As welcome in peace as their fathers in war. Then up with the Banner, &c.

Then strip, lads, and to it, though sharp be the weather,

And if, by mischance, you should happen to fall, There are worse things in life than a tumble m heather,

And life is itself but a game at foot-ball.
Then up with the Banner, &c.

And when it is over, we'll dr.ak a blithe measure To each Laird and each Lady that witness'd our fun,

And to every blithe heart that took part in our pleasure,

To the lads that have lost and the lads that have won.

Then up with the Banner, &c.

took place on December 5, 1815, and was also celebrated by the Ettrick Shepherd. See Life of Scott, vol. v. pp. 112 116, 122.

The bearer of the standard was the Author's eldest son