| |
| LORD of the vale! astounding flood; | |
| The dullest leaf in this thick wood | |
| Quakes, conscious of thy power; | |
| The caves reply with hollow moan; | |
| And vibrates, to its central stone, | 5 |
| Yon time-cemented tower! | |
| |
| And yet how fair the rural scene! | |
| For thou, O Clyde, hast ever been | |
| Beneficent as strong; | |
| Pleased in refreshing dews to steep | 10 |
| The little, trembling flowers that peep | |
| Thy shelving rocks among. | |
| |
| Hence all who love their country love | |
| To look on thee, delight to rove | |
| Where they thy voice can hear; | 15 |
| And to the patriot-warrior’s shade, | |
| Lord of the vale! to heroes laid | |
| In dust, that voice is dear! | |
| |
| Along thy banks, at dead of night, | |
| Sweeps visibly the Wallace wight; | 20 |
| Or stands, in warlike vest, | |
| Aloft, beneath the moon’s pale beam, | |
| A champion worthy of the stream, | |
| Yon gray tower’s living crest! | |
| |
| But clouds and envious darkness hide | 25 |
| A form not doubtfully descried;— | |
| Their transient mission o’er, | |
| O, say to what blind region flee | |
| These shapes of awful fantasy? | |
| To what untrodden shore? | 30 |
| |
| Less than divine command they spurn; | |
| But this we from the mountains learn, | |
| And this the valleys show; | |
| That never will they deign to hold | |
| Communion where the heart is cold | 35 |
| To human weal and woe. | |
| |
| The man of abject soul in vain | |
| Shall walk the Marathonian plain; | |
| Or thrid the shadowy gloom | |
| That still invests the guardian Pass, | 40 |
| Where stood, sublime, Leonidas | |
| Devoted to the tomb. | |
| |
| And let no slave his head incline, | |
| Or kneel, before the votive shrine | |
| By Uri’s lake, where Tell | 45 |
| Leapt, from his storm-vext boat, to land, | |
| Heaven’s instrument, for by his hand | |
| That day the tyrant fell. | |
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