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, crave

A 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.

BIBE

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,

"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."—

"What answer made the Chief?"-" He kneel'd,

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 kneel'd to him?" he said,

"Then must we call the church to aidOur will be to the Abbot known,

Ere these strange news are wider blown,

To Cambuskenneth strait he pass,

And deck the church for solemn mass,

To

pay, for high deliverance given,

A nation's thanks to gracious Heaven.

Let him array, besides, such state,

As should on princes' nuptials wait.
Ourself the cause, through fortune's spite,
That once broke short that spousal rite,
Ourself will grace, with early morn,

The bridal of the Maid of Lorn.