March March Ettrick and Teviotdale
I.
March, march,
Ettrick and Teviotdale, Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order! March, march,
Eskdale and Liddesdale, All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border. Many a banner spread, Flutters above your head, Many a crest that is famous in story. Mount and make ready then, Sons of the mountain glen, Fight for the Queen and our old Scottish glory. II.
Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing, Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. Trumpets are sounding, War-steeds are bounding, Stand to your arms, then, and march in good order; England shall many a day Tell of the bloody fray, When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border.
From the novel The Monastery.
Sir Walter Scott
Other author posts
Lucy Ashtons Song
Look not thou on beauty's charming; Sit thou still when kings are arming; Taste not when the wine-cup glistens; Speak not when the people listens; Stop thine ear against the singer; From the red gold keep thy finger; Vacant heart and hand and eye,...
Bonaparte
From a rude isle, his ruder lineage came The spark, that, from a suburb hovel's hearth Ascending, wraps some capital in flame, Hath not a meaner or more sordid birth And for the soul that bade him waste the earth— The sable land-flood fr...
The Field of Waterloo
I Fair Brussels, thou art far behind, Though, lingering on the morning wind, We yet may hear the Pealed over orchard and canal,
Breathes There the Man From the Lay of the Last Minstrel
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said,This is my own, my native land Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned,
