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LORD OF THE ISLES.
WHO, that shared them, ever shall forget,
The emotions of the spirit-rousing time,
Early and late, at evening and at prime;
Hail'd news on news, as field on field was won, When Hope, long doubtful, soar'd at length sublime,
And our glad eyes, awake as day begun, Watch'd Joy's broad banner rise, to meet the rising sun ! O these were hours, when thrilling joy repaid
A long, long course of darkness, doubts, and fears ! The heart-sick faintness of the hope delay'd,
The waste, the woe, the bloodshed, and the tears, That track'd with terror twenty rolling years,
All was forgot in that blithe jubilee !.
To sigh a thankful prayer, amid the glee,
Such news o'er Scotland's hills triumphant rode,
When 'gainst the invaders turn'd the battle's scale, When Bruce's banner had victorious flow'd
O’er Loudoun's mountain, and in Ury's vale ; When English blood oft deluged Douglas-dale,
And fiery Edward routed stout St John, When Randolph's war-cry swell'd the southern gale,
And many a fortress, town, and tower, was won, And Fame still sounded forth fresh deeds of glory done.
Blithe tidings flew from Baron's tower,
A votress of the order now,
That stern and rigid vow,
So say these locks in lengthen'd braid,