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SOUTHERN LIFE IN SOUTHERN LITERATURE
He drew the casket from his breast,
He bared his solemn brow,
Oh, kingliest and knightliest,
Go first in battle, now!
Where leads my Lord of Bruce, the sword
Of Douglas shall not stay!
Forward and to the feet of Christ
I follow thee, to-day.
The casket flashed! The battle clashed,
Thundered and rolled away.
And dead above the heart of Bruce
The heart of Douglas lay.
"Loyal 1 " Methinks the antique mold Is lost! or theirs alone, Who sheltered Freedom s heart of gold, Like Douglas with their own.
