Disordered through her currents dash,
To gain the Scottish land; To town and tower, to town and dale, To tell red Flodden's dismal tale, And raise the universal wail. Tradition, legend, tune, and song Shall many an age that wail prolong: Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife and carnage drear
Of Flodden's fatal field, Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear,
And broken was her shield !
LVI THE CHASE
THE stag at eve had drunk his fill,
Where danced the moon on Monan's rill,
And deep his midnight lair had made
In lone Glenartney's hazel shade;
But, when the sun his beacon red
Had kindled on IJenvoirlich's head,
The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay
Resounded up the rocky way,
And faint from farther distance borne
Were heard the clanging hoof and horn.
As Chief, who hears his warder call, 'To arms! the foernen storm the wall,' The antlered monarch of the waste Sprang from his heathery couch in haste.
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