THE LAMENT OF WALLACE, AFTER THE BATTLE OF FALKIRK. Air--“Maids of Arrochar.” ___ THOU dark winding Carron once pleasing to see, To me thou can’st never give pleasure again, My brave Caledonians lie low on
the lee, And thy streams are deep-ting’d with the blood of the
slain. Ah! base-hearted treach’ry has doom’d our undoing. My poor bleeding country, what more can I do? Ev’n valour looks pale o'er the
red field of ruin, And freedom beholds her best warriors laid low. Farewell, ye
dear partners of peril! farewell!
Tho’ buried ye lie in one wide bloody grave, Your deeds shall ennoble the
place where ye fell, And your names be enroll’d with the sons of the brave. But I, a poor outcast, in exile
must wander, Perhaps, like a traitor, ignobly must die! On thy wrongs, O my country! indignant I ponder--
Ah! woe to the hour when thy
Wallace must fly! |