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xLiii. • The young bridegroom hath youthful bride, The old bridegroom the old, Whose faith was kept till term and tide So punctually were told;

But blessings on the warder kind

That oped my castle-gate, For had I come at morrow-tide, I came a day too late.”

#ligtellattieg,

WAR-SONG of the not al. Edinbun Gu Light dhagoons.

Nennius. Is not peace the end of arms ?

Caratach. Not where the cause implies a general conquest. Ilad we a difference with some petty isle, Or with our neighbours, Britons, for our landmarks, The taking in of some rebellious lord, Or making head against a slight commotion, After a day of blood, peace might be urged: But where we grapple for the land we live on, The liberty we bold more dear than life, The gods we worship, and, next these, our honours, And, with those, swords, that know no end of battleThose men, beside themselves, allow no neighbour, Those minds, that, where the day is, claim inheritance, And, where the sun makes ripe the fruit, their harvest, And, where they march, but measure out more ground To add to Rome— It must not be.—No as they are our foes, Let's use the peace of honour—that's fair dealing; But in our hands our swords. The hardy Roman, That thinks to graft himself into my stock, Must first begin his kindred under ground, And be allied in asbes.

Bonduca.

The following War-song was written during the apprehension of an invasion. The corps of volunteers, to which it was addressed, was raised in 1797, consisting of gentlemen, mounted and armed at their own expense. It still subsists, as the Right Troop of the Royal Mid-Lothian Light Cavalry, commanded by the Honourable Lieutenant-Colonel Dundas. The noble and constitutional measure, of arming freemen in defence of their own rights, was nowhere more successful than in Edinburgh, which furnished a force of 3ooo armed and disciplined volunteers, including a regiment of cavalry, from the city and county, and two corps of artillery, each capable of serving twelve guns. To such a force, above all others, might, in similar circumstances, be applied the exhortation of our ancient Galgacus : « Proinde ituri in aciem, et majores vestros et posteros cogitate.”

To horse! to horse! the standard flies, The bugles sound the call;

The Gallic navy stems the seas,

The voice of Battle 's on the breeze,
Arouse ye, one and all!

From high Dunedin's towers we come,
A band of brothers true;

Our casques the leopard's spoils surround,

With Scotland's hardy thistle crown'd;
We boast the red and blue."

*The Royal Colours.

Though tamely crouch to Gallia's frown
Dull Holland's tardy train;

Their ravish'd toys though Romans mourn;

Though gallant Switzers vainly spurn,
And, foaming, gnaw the chain;–

O! had they mark'd the avenging call Their brethren's murder gave,

Disunion ne'er their ranks had mown,

Nor patriot valour, desperate grown, Sought freedom in the grave!

Shall we, too, bend the stubborn head, In Freedom's temple born,

Dress our pale cheek in timid smile,

To hail a master in our isle,
Or brook a victor's scorn?

No! though destruction o'er the land Come pouring as a flood,

The sun, that sees our falling day,

Shall mark our sabres' deadly sway, And set that night in blood.

For gold let Gallia's legions fight,
Or plunder's bloody gain;

Unbribed, unbought, our swords we draw,

To guard our King, to fence our Law,
Nor shall their edge be vain.

If ever breath of British gale
Shall fan the tri-color,

Or footstep of invader rude,

With rapine foul, and red with blood, Pollute our happy shore,

Then farewell home! and farewell friends" Adieu each tender ties

Resolved, we mingle in the tide,

Where charging squadrons furious ride,
To conquer, or to die.

To horse! to horse! the sabres gleam; High sounds our bugle call;

' The allusion is to the massacre of the Swiss Guards, on the fatal oth August, 1791. It is painful, but not useless, to regart. that the passive temper with which the Swiss regarded the death of their braveat countrymen, mercilessly slaughtered in diarharre of their duty, encouraged and authorized the progressive injuato by which the Alps, once the seat of the most virtuous and fire people upon the Continent, have, at length, leen converted oute the citadel of a foreign and military despot. A state degraded is half enslaved.

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