A SONG OF THE BRIGADE.
A.D. 1706.
I
What sound goes up among the Alps!
The shouts of Irish battle!
The echoes reach their snowy scalps;
From cliff to cliff they rattle!
In vain he strove—the Duke—Eugene:—
That flying host to rally:
The squadrons green, they swept it clean
Beyond Marsiglia's valley.
II
Who fixed their standards on thy wall,
Long-leaguered Barcelona!
Unfallen, who saw the bravest fall?
Reply, betrayed Cremona!
O graves of Sarsfield and of Clare!
O Ramillies and Landen,
Their brand we bear: their faith we share
Their cause we'll ne'er abandon!
III
Years passed: again went by the Bard
The law that banned him braving:
Where blood of old had stained the sward
Summer corn was waving:
The tempest of a sudden joy
Uplifting stave and stanza,
The valleys echoed ‘Fontenoy,’
The wild sea-shore ‘Almanza!’
