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COLLECTION

OF

BRITISH AUTHOR S.

VOL. 546.

THE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

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WAR-SONG.

439

WAR-SONG.

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.*

Though tamely couch'd 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;

Oh! 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!

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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,
deadly sway,
And set that night in blood.

Shall mark our sabres'

* The royal colours.

** The allusion is to the massacre of the Swiss Guards, on the fatal 10th August 1792. It is painful, but not useless, to remark, that the passive temper with which the Swiss regarded the death of their bravest countrymen, mercilessly slaughtered in discharge of their duty, encouraged and authorized the progressive injustice, by which the Alps, once the seat of the most virtuous and free people upon the Continent, have at length been converted into the citadel of a foreign and military despot. A state degraded is half enslaved.

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