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And, noble earl, receive my hand.”
And “ This to me!” he said,
To cleave the Douglas' head!
E’en in thy pitch of pride,
I tell thee, thou ’rt defied !
lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied!”
The Douglas in his hall ?
Up drawbridge, grooms ! — what, warder, ho!
Let the portcullis fall.”
The steed along the drawbridge flies,
Wake thy wild voice anew, summon Clan Conuil.
Come from deep glen, and from mountain so rocky;
every steel blade, and strong hand that bears one.
Leave untended the herd, the flock without shelter ;
Come as the winds come, when forests are rended,
Faster come, faster come, faster and faster,
groom, tenant and master.
Fast they come, fast they come; see how they gather!
THE BATTLE OF NASEBY. OH, wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North, With
your hands, and your feet, and your raiment all red ? And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous shout ? And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which
tread ? Oh, evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit,
And crimson was the juice, of the vintage that we trod! For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the strong,
Who sat in high places, and slew the saints of God. It was about the noon of a glorious day of June,
That we saw their banners dance, and their cuirasses shine ; And the Man of Blood was there, with his long essencéd hair,
And Astley, and Sir Marmaduke, and Rupert of the Rhine. Like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword,
The General rode along us, to form us to the fight, When a murmuring sound broke out, and swelled into a shout,
Among the godless horsemen, upon the tyrant's right. And hark ! like the roar of the billows on the shore,
The cry of battle rises along their charging line ! “For God! for the Cause! for the Church ! for the Laws!
For Charles, King of England, and Rupert of the Rhine!” The furious German comes, with his clarions and his drums,
His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall ; They are bursting on our flanks. Grasp your pikes, close your
ranks, For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall.
They are here! They rush on! We are broken ! We are gone !
Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. O Lord, put forth thy might! O Lord, defend the right !
Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last.
Stout Skippon hath a wound; the centre hath given ground; Hark! hark! what means this trampling of horsemen in our
rear ? Whose banner do I see, boys? 'T is he, thank God ! 't is he,
boys! Bear up another minute ; brave Oliver is here.
Their heads all stooping low, their points all in a row,
Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the dikes ; Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the Accurst,
And at a shock have scattered the forest of his pikes.
Fast, fast, the gallants ride, in some safe nook to hide
Their coward heads, predestined to rot on Temple Bar And he he turns, he flies :
shame on those cruel eyes That bore to look on torture, and dare not look on war.
“LOOK NOT UPON THE WINE.”
LOOK not upon the wine when it
Is red within the cup !
Her tempting beaker up !
They say 't is pleasant on the lip,
And merry on the brain ;
And dulls the tooth of pain.
THAT last day in Lucknow fort;
We knew that it was the last,
And the end was coming fast.
To yield to that foe meant worse than death,
And the men and we all worked on; It was one day more of smoke and roar,
And then it would all be done.
There was one of us, a corporal's wife,
A fair young gentle thing, Wasted with fever in the siege,
And her mind was wandering.