III.

Thou strik’st the dull peasant—he sinks in the dark,
Nor saves e’en the wreck of a name;
Thou strik’st the young hero—a glorious mark!
He falls in the blaze of his fame!

IV.

In the field of proud honour—our swords in our hands,
Our king and our country to save—
While victory shines on life’s last ebbing sands,
Oh! who would not die with the brave!


CXLI.

FLOW GENTLY, SWEET AFTON.

Tune—“Afton Water.

[The scenes on Afton Water are beautiful, and the poet felt them, as well as the generous kindness of his earliest patroness, Mrs. General Stewart, of Afton-lodge, when he wrote this sweet pastoral.]

I.