Lone was his biding, the cave of his hiding,
When forced to retire with our gallant Prince Charlie,
Though manly and fearless, his bold heart was cheerless
Away from the lady he aye loved so dearly.
But woe on the blood-thirsty mandates of Cumberland!
Woe on the blood-thirsty gang that fulfill'd them!
Poor Caledonia! bleeding and plundered land,
Where shall thy children now shelter and shield
them?
Keen prowl the cravens, like merciless ravens,
Their prey,-—the devoted adherents of Charlie.
Brave Lewie Roy is ta'en, cowardly hacked and slain--
Ah! his neen voiuch will mourn for him sairly.
WALLACE'S LAMENT.
Thou dark winding Carron, once pleasing to see,
To me thou can'st never give pleasure again,
My brave Caledonians lie low on the lea,
And thy streams are deep-ting'd with the blood of
the slain.
Ah! base-hearted treach'ry has doomed our undoing,
My poor bleeding country, what more can I do?
Ev'n Valour looks pale o'er the red field of ruin,
And Freedom beholds her best warriors laid low
Farewell, ye dear partners of peril!--farewell!
Though buried ye lie in one wide bloody grave,
Your deeds shall ennoble the place where ye 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!
