But, dark and still, we inly glow,
Condensed in ire ! Strike, tawdry slaves, and ye shall know
Our gloom is fire. In vain your pomp, ye evil powers,
Insults the land; Wrongs, vengeance, and the cause are ours,
And God's right hand! Madmen ! they trample into snakes
The wormy clod ! Like fire, beneath their feet awakes
The sword of God ! Behind, before, above, below,
They rouse the brave; Where'er they go, they make a foe,
Or find a grave.
Elliott.
LXDC
LOYALTY
HAME, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,
O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie !
When the flower is i' the bud and the leaf is on the tree,
The lark shall sing me hame in my ain countrie;
Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,
O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie !
The green leaf o' loyaltie's begun for to fa 1 , The bonnie white rose it is withering an' a'; But I'll water 't wi' the blude of usurping tyrannic, An' green it will grow in my ain countrie.
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