Heath flowers being a collection of poems, chiefly lyrical, written in the Highlands. By William Glen |
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THE MUSIC OF THE HEATHER. |
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81
THE MUSIC OF THE HEATHER.
Proud Caledon was true
On the field of Waterloo,
Her fame was sealed that day;—
By her own Chiefs led on,
Old Albyn nobly shone
'Mid havoc and dismay,
Undauntedly the foe she met,
And smiled when the bright bayonet
And Claymore clashed together;
Unbroken by the battle-wave,
The spirit-stirring war-pipes gave
The Music of the Heather.
On the field of Waterloo,
Her fame was sealed that day;—
By her own Chiefs led on,
Old Albyn nobly shone
'Mid havoc and dismay,
Undauntedly the foe she met,
And smiled when the bright bayonet
And Claymore clashed together;
Unbroken by the battle-wave,
The spirit-stirring war-pipes gave
The Music of the Heather.
82
“Let the Cuirassiers advance,—
“We'll tame the boast of France,
“Tho' they be two to one;
“Level the bay'net low,
“On, on upon the foe”—
The bloody work is done!
The pride of France is blasted now,
Death's livid streaks are on each brow,
They lye in heaps together!
Once only felt they Albyn's arm,
Once only heard that dying charm,
The Music of the Heather.
“We'll tame the boast of France,
“Tho' they be two to one;
“Level the bay'net low,
“On, on upon the foe”—
The bloody work is done!
The pride of France is blasted now,
Death's livid streaks are on each brow,
They lye in heaps together!
Once only felt they Albyn's arm,
Once only heard that dying charm,
The Music of the Heather.
On glorious Waterloo
The Scottish banner flew
Broad on the breezes free;
While the Scot, with fiery eye,
Raised the loud and fearful cry,
Of “Death or Victory!”
That was the day of Albyn's might,
When France's glory, in the fight,
Evanished all together;
And if her foes should stir again,
May Albyn lull them with that strain,
The Music of the Heather!
The Scottish banner flew
Broad on the breezes free;
While the Scot, with fiery eye,
Raised the loud and fearful cry,
Of “Death or Victory!”
That was the day of Albyn's might,
When France's glory, in the fight,
Evanished all together;
And if her foes should stir again,
May Albyn lull them with that strain,
The Music of the Heather!
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