She slept like a child on her father's floor
In the flecking of wood-bine shade,
When the house-dog sprawls by the open door,
And the mother's wheel is stay'd.
It was smoke and roar, and powder-stench,
And hopeless waiting for death:
But the soldier's wife, like a full-tired child,
Seem'd scarce to draw her breath.
I sank to sleep, and I had my dream,
Of an English village-lane,
And wall and garden;—a sudden scream
Brought me back to the roar again.
Then Jessie Brown stood listening,
And then a broad gladness broke
All over her face, and she took my hand
And drew me near and spoke:
"The Highlanders! Oh! dinna ye hear
The slogan far awa—
The McGregor's? Ah! I ken it weel;
It's the grandest o' them a'.
"God bless thae bonny Highlanders!
We're saved! we're saved!" she cried:
And fell on her knees, and thanks to God
Pour'd forth, like a full flood-tide.
Along the battery-line her cry
Had fallen among the men:
And they started, for they were there to die:
Was life so near them then?
They listen'd, for life: and the rattling fire
Far off, and the far-off roar
Were all:—and the colonel shook his head,
And they turn'd to their guns once more.
Then Jessie said—"That slogan's dune;
But can ye no hear them, noo,—
The Campbells are comin'? It's no a dream;
Our succours hae broken through!"
We heard the roar and the rattle afar
But the pipes we could not hear;
So the men plied their work of hopeless war,
And knew that the end was near.