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Ev’n Valour looks pale o'er the red field of ruin!
And Freedom beholds her best warriors laid low!
And Freedom beholds her best warriors laid low!
Farewel, ye dear partners of peril, farewel!
Tho’ buried ye lie in one wide bloody grave,
Your deeds shall ennoble the place where you fell,
And your names be enroll’d with the sons of the brave:
Tho’ buried ye lie in one wide bloody grave,
Your deeds shall ennoble the place where you fell,
And your names be enroll’d with the sons of the brave:
But I, a poor outcast, in exile must wander;
Perhaps, like a traitor, ignobly must die!
On thy wrongs, O my country! indignant I ponder—
Ah! woe to the hour when thy Wallace must fly.
Perhaps, like a traitor, ignobly must die!
On thy wrongs, O my country! indignant I ponder—
Ah! woe to the hour when thy Wallace must fly.
. . .———. . .———. . .
I could not answer No.
Once, twice, thrice, I met young Lubin on the green,
Once, twice, thrice, young Lubin he met me:
The first time I beheld the lad,
He made an humble bow;
I blush’d and hung my silly head,
And felt, I don’t know how!
He ask'd my hand with such a grace,
To dance upon the green,
Once, twice, thrice, young Lubin he met me:
The first time I beheld the lad,
He made an humble bow;
I blush’d and hung my silly head,
And felt, I don’t know how!
He ask'd my hand with such a grace,
To dance upon the green,
