ears thou hast not dared
To look him in the face!

Had I been there with sword in hand
And fifty Cameron's by,
That day, through high Dunadin's streets,
Had pealed the Slogan cry
Not all their troops of trampling horse,
Nor might of mailed men;
Nor all the rebels of the South
Had borne us backward then.
Once more his, foot on highland heath
Had trod, as free as air,
Or I and all who bore my name,
Been laid around him there.

It might not be! they placed him next,
Within the solemn hall,
Where once the Scottish kings were throned
Amidst their nobles all.
But there was dust of vulgar feet
On that polluted floor
And perjured traitors filled the place,
Where good men sat before.
With savage glee came there,
To read the murderous doom
And then up rose the great Montrose
In the middle of the room,--

Now by my faith as belted knight,
And by the name I bear,
And by the bright St. Andrew's Cross,
That waves above us there;
Yea, by a greater mightier oath,
And oh! that such should be--
By that dark stream of royal blood,
That lies 'twixt you and me,
I have not sought in battle field
A wreath of such renown,
Or dared to hope my dying day
Would win a martyr's crown.

There is a chamber far away,
Where sleeps the good and brave
But a better place ye have named for me
Than by my fathers grave,
For truth and right 'gainst treason's might
This hand has always striven,
And ye raise it up for a witness still
For the eye of earth and heaven.
Then nail my heart on yonder tower,
Give every town a limb
And God who made, shall gather them;--
I go from you to him!

The morning dawned full darkly,
The rain came flashing down
And the forky streak of lightning's bolt,
Lit up the gloomy town.
The thunders' crashed across the heaven,
The fatal hour was come;
Yet aye broke in with muffled beat
The 'larum of the drum:
There was madness on the earth below,
And anger in the sky,
And young and old and rich and poor
Came forth to see him die.

Oh God! that ghastly gibbet,
How dismal 't is to see,
The great spectral skeleton--
The ladder and the tree.
Hark! hark! the clash of arms
The bells begin to toll,--
He is coming! He is coming!
God have mercy on his soul!
One last long peal of thunder,--
The clouds are cleared away
And the glorious sun once more look'd down
Upon