XXXIII.

Now toil'd the Bruce, the battle done,

To use his conquest boldly won;
And gave command for horse and spear
To press the Southern's scatter'd rear,
Nor let his broken force combine,
-When the war-cry of Argentine

Fell faintly on his ear;
“ Save, save his life,” he cried, “ O save
The kind, the noble, and the brave !"
The squadrons round free passage gave,

The wounded knight drew near.
He raised his red-cross shield no more,
Helm, cuish, and breast-plate stream'd with gore,
Yet, as he saw the King advance,

He strove even then to couch his lance-

The effort was in vain !

The spur-stroke fail'd to rouse the horse;
Wounded and weary, in mid course
He stumbled on the plain.

Then foremost was the generous Bruce To raise his head, his helm to loose ;

“ Lord Earl, the day is thine ! My Sovereign's charge, and adverse fate, Have made our meeting all too late :

Yet this may Argentine, As boon from ancient comrade, craveA Christian's mass, a soldier's grave."

XXXIV.

Bruce press’d his dying hand-its grasp Kindly replied; but, in his clasp,

It stiffen'd and grew cold“ And, O farewell !” the victor cried, “Of chivalry the flower and pride,

The arm in battle bold,

The courteous mien, the noble race,

The stainless faith, the manly face ! Bid Ninian's convent light their shrine, For late-wake of De Argentine.

O'er qetter knight on death-bier laid,
Torch never gleam'd nor mass was said !"-

XXXV.

Nor for De Argentine alone,
Through Ninian's church these torches shone,
And rose the death-prayer's awful tone.
That yellow lustre glimmer'd pale,
On broken plate and bloodied mail,
Rent crest and shatter'd coronet,

Of Baron, Earl, and Banneret;
And the best names that England knew,
Claim'd in the death-prayer dismal due.

Yet mourn not, Land of Fame !
Though ne'er the leopards on thy shield
Retreated from so sad a field,

Since Norman William came.

Oft may thine annals justly boast
Of battles stern by Scotland lost;

Grudge not her victory,

When for her free-born rights she strove ; Rights dear to all who freedom love,

To none so dear as thee !

XXXVI,

Turn we to Bruce, whose curious ear
Must from Fitz-Louis tidings hear;
With him, an hundred voices tell
Of prodigy and miracle,

6 For the mute Page had spoke.”“ Page !” said Fitz-Louis, " rather say, An angel sent from realms of day,

To burst the English yoke.
I saw his plume and bonnet drop,
When hurrying from the mountain top;
A lovely brow, dark locks that

Wave,
To his bright eyes new. lustre gave,
A step as light upon the green,
As if his pinions waved unseen !"-

Spoke he with none?”—“. With none-one word Burst when he saw the Island Lord,

Returning from the battle-field.”_

66 What answer made the Chief?"_“He kneelid,

Durst not look up, but mutter'd low,
Some mingled sounds that none might know,
And greeted him 'twixt joy and fear,
As being of superior sphere.”.

XXXVII.

Even upon Bannock’s bloody plain, ,
Heap'd then with thousands of the slain,
'Mid victor monarch's musings high,
Mirth laugh'd in good King Robert's eye.
" And bore he such angelic air,
Such noble front, such waving hair ?
Hath Ronald kneelid to him?” he said,

66 Then must we call the church to aid

Our will be to the Abbot known,

Ere these strange news are wider blown,