Volume Iii Part 5 (2/2)
Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour: See approach proud Edward's pow'r-- Chains and slaverie!
Wha will be a traitor-knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland's king and law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa', Let him follow me!
By oppression's woes and pains!
By our sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!-- Let us do or die!
ROBERT BURNS.
BONNIE DUNDEE.
To the Lords of Convention 'twas Claver'se who spoke, ”Ere the King's crown shall fall there are crowns to be broke; So let each Cavalier who loves honor and me, Come follow the bonnet of Bonnie Dundee.
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle your horses, and call up your men; Come open the West Port, and let me gang free, And it's room for the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee!”
Dundee he is mounted, he rides up the street, The bells are rung backward, the drums they are beat; But the Provost, douce man, said, ”Just e'en let him be, The Gude Town is weel quit of that Deil of Dundee!”
As he rode down the sanctified bends of the Bow, Ilk carline was flyting and shaking her pow; But the young plants of grace they looked couthie and slee, Thinking, luck to thy bonnet, thou Bonnie Dundee!
With sour-featured Whigs the Gra.s.smarket was crammed, As if half the West had set tryst to be hanged; There was spite in each look, there was fear in each e'e, As they watched for the bonnet of Bonnie Dundee.
These cowls of Kilmarnock had spits and had spears, And lang-hafted gullies to kill Cavaliers; But they shrunk to close-heads, and the causeway was free, At the toss of the bonnet of Bonnie Dundee.
He spurred to the foot of the proud Castle rock, And with the gay Gordon he gallantly spoke; ”Let Mons Meg and her marrows speak twa words or three For the love of the bonnet of Bonnie Dundee.”
The Gordon demands of him which way he goes: ”Where'er shall direct me the shade of Montrose!
Your Grace in short s.p.a.ce shall hear tidings of me, Or that low lies the bonnet of Bonnie Dundee.
”There are hills beyond Pentland, and lands beyond Forth, If there's lords in the Lowlands, there's chiefs in the North; There are wild Duniewa.s.sals three thousand times three, Will cry _hoigh!_ for the bonnet of Bonnie Dundee.
”There's bra.s.s on the target of barkened bull hide; There's steel in the scabbard that dangles beside; The bra.s.s shall be burnished, the steel shall flash free, At a toss of the bonnet of Bonnie Dundee.
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