THE BROWNIES IN SCOTLAND.

Was used, a wished-for change to bring
And rid the country of a king.”

 

The Bruce’s sword, so long and large

Well made to split a casque or targe,

Was hefted with respectful hand

By every member of the band.

Said one: “No wonder foes gave out
When such a blade was swung about,
Or for his crown and Scotland’s right
He brought it down with all his might.”

 

Gray Ben Venue was reached at last,
And famous woods and fords were passed.
“This is,” said one, ‘the Trosach’s dell
Where once, with such a fiendish yell

Clan Alpine sallied from the glen

Upon the frightened archer men.

But, lacking Roderick’s bugle blast

To cheer them on, as in the past,

Were checked by Moray’s lancers brave

And tumbled back into their grave.”

To fair Loch Katrine next they paid

A visit, and around it strayed,

And had there been a barge at hand

No doubt they would have shoved from land.

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