’Neath the boughs of the sheltering oak-tree The leader bared his head, As left and right, until out of sight, His dusty gray-coats sped.
Then he called “Halloo, within there!” A gentle, fair-haired dame Across the floor to the open door In gracious answer came.
“Here, stable my horse, you woman!” The soldier’s tones were rude; “Then bestir yourself, and from yonder shelf Set out your store of food!”
For her guest she spread the table; She motioned him to his place With a gesture proud; then the widow bowed, And gently asked a grace.
“‘If thine enemy hunger, feed him!’ I obey, dear Christ,” she said. A creeping blush, with its scarlet flush, O’er the face of the soldier spread.
He rose. “You have said it, madame! Standing within your doors Is the rebel foe; but as forth they go They shall trouble not you nor yours!”
Alas for the word of the leader! Alas for the soldier’s vow! When the captain’s men rode down the glen, They drove the widow’s cow.
It was then the fearless Jamie Sprang up with flashing eyes, And in spite of tears and his mother’s fears, On the gray mare off he flies.
Like a wild young Tam O’Shanter He plunged with piercing whoop, O’er field and brook, till he overtook The straggling rebel troop,—
Laden with spoil and plunder, And laughing and shouting still. As with cattle and sheep they lazily creep Through the dust o’er the winding hill.