III ‘The swan,’ she said, ‘the lake’s clear breast May barter for the eagle’s nest; The Awe’s fierce stream may backward turn, Ben-Cruaichan fall, and crush Kilchurn; Our kilted clans, when blood is high, Before their foes may turn and fly; But I, were all these marvels done, Would never wed the Earlie’s son.’
IV Still in the water-lily’s shade Her wonted nest the wild-swan made; Ben-Cruaichan stands as fast as ever, Still downward foams the Awe’s fierce river; To shun the clash of foeman’s steel, No Highland brogue has turn’d the heel: But Nora’s heart is lost and won, —She’s wedded to the Earlie’s son!
Sir W. Scott.
[ BALLAD OF AGINCOURT]
Fair stood the wind for France, When we our sails advance, Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry; But putting to the main, At Caux, the mouth of Seine, With all his martial train, Landed King Harry.
And, taking many a fort, Furnished in warlike sort, Marcheth tow’rds Agincourt In happy hour, (Skirmishing day by day, With those oppose his way) Where the French general lay With all his power.
Which in his height of pride, King Henry to deride, His ransom to provide To the king sending; Which he neglects the while, As from a nation vile, Yet with an angry smile Their fall portending,
And, turning to his men, Quoth our brave Henry then: Though they to one be ten, Be not amazèd! Yet have we well begun; Battles so bravely won, Have ever to the sun By fame been raisèd.