« 前へ次へ »
Old Stirling's towers arose in light,
Her winding river lay.
prayer, the early mass !Here, numbers had presumption given ; There, bands o'er-match'd sought aid from Heaven.
On Gillie’s-hill, whose height commands
With serf and page unfit for war,
the conflict from afar.
O! with what doubtful agony
She sees the dawning tint the sky !
Is it the bittern's early hum?
With the deep murmur of the drum.
And started from the ground; Arm’d and array'd for instant fight, Rose archer, spearman, squire and knight, And in the pomp of battle bright
The dread battalia frown'd.
Now onward, and in open view,
The countless ranks of England drew,
Dark rolling like the ocean-tide,
To all that bars his way!
The Monarch held his sway.
had first braced on,
King Edward's hests obey.
Selected champions from the train,
Sunk banner, spear, and shield;
For pardon they have kneelid.”-
Upon the spot where they have kneeld,
These men will die, or win the field.”—
.66 Then prove we if they die or win ! Bid Gloster's Earl the fight begin.”
Earl Gilbert waved his truncheon high,
Just as the Northern ranks arose,
Signal for England's archery
To halt and bend their bows.
Then stepp'd each yeoman forth a pace,
And raised his left hand high ; To the right ear the cords they bring- At once ten thousand bow-strings ring,
Ten thousand arrows fly!
Nor paused on the devoted Scot
The ceaseless fury of their shot;
As fiercely and as fast, Forth whistling came the grey-goose wing, As the wild hail-stones pelt and ring
Adown December's blast.
Nor mountain targe of tough bull-hide, Nor lowland mail, that storm may bide; Woe, woe to Scotland's banner'd pride,
If the fell shower may last ! Upon the right, behind the wood, Each by his steed dismounted, stood
The Scottish chivalry ;