The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed,
On the billows fall and rise.
Such was the wreck of the _Hesperus_,
In the midnight and the snow!
Christ save us all from a death like this,
On the reef of Norman's Woe!
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.
BANNOCKBURN.
ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY.
You can look down on the battle-field of Bannockburn from Stirling
Castle, Scotland, near which stands a magnificent statue of Robert, the
Bruce. How often have I trodden over the old battle-field. The monument
of William Wallace, too, looms up on the Ochil Hills, not far away.
(1759-96.)
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victorie.
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lower;
See approach proud Edward's power--
Chains and slaverie!
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
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?
Let him follow me!
By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us do, or die!
ROBERT BURNS.
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