BONNIE GASCON HA'.
Lane, on the winding Earn there stands
An unco tow'r, sae stern an' auld,
Biggit by lang forgotten hands,
Ance refuge o' the Wallace bauld.
Time's restless fingers sair hath waur'd
And rived thy gray disjaskit wa',
But rougher hands nor Time's hae daur'd
To wrang thee, bonnie Gascon Ha'!
Oh, may a muse unkent to fame
For this dim greesome relic sue,
It 's linkit wi' a patriot's name,
The truest Scotland ever knew.
Just leave in peace each mossy stane
Tellin' o' nations' rivalry,
An' for succeeding ages hain
Remains o' Scottish chivalry.
* * * * *
What though no monument to thee
Is biggit by thy country's hand;
Engraved are thy immortal deeds
On every heart o' this braid land.
Rude Time may monuments ding doun,
An' tow'rs an' wa's maun a' decay;
Enduring, deathless, noble chief,
Thy name can never pass away!
Gi'e pillar'd fame to common men,—
Nae need o' cairns for ane like thee;
In every cave, wood, hill, and glen,
"Wallace" remember'd aye shall be.