8
WALLACE AND BRUCE.
And saw the white-cross banner float,
(While rung each clansman's gathering note)
O'er the dark plumes and serried spears
Of Scotland's daring Mountaineers,
As all elate with hope, they stood,
To buy their freedom with their blood.
The sunset shone—to guide the flying,
And beam a farewell to the dying!
The summer-moon, on Falkirk's field,
Streams upon eyes in slumber sealed;
Deep slumber—not to pass away
When breaks another morning's ray,
Nor vanish, when the trumpet's voice
Bids ardent hearts again rejoice;
What sunbeam's glow, what clarion's breath,
May chase the still cold sleep of death?
