The Battle of Stirling

To Scotland's ancient realm
Proud Edward's armies came,
To sap our freedom, and o'erwhelm
Our martial force in shame:
"It shall not be!" brave Wallace cried;
"It shall not be!" his chiefs replied;
"By the name our fathers gave her,
Our steel shall drink the crimson stream,
We 'll all her dearest rights redeem--
Our own broadswords shall save her!"

With hopes of triumph flush'd,
The squadrons hurried o'er
Thy bridge, Kildean, and heaving rush'd
Like wild waves to the shore:
"They come--they come!" was the gallant cry;
"They come--they come!" was the loud reply;
"O strength, thou gracious Giver!
By Love and Freedom's stainless faith,
We 'll dare the darkest night of death--
We 'll drive them back for ever!"

All o'er the waving broom,
In chivalry and grace,
Shone England's radiant spear and plume,
By Stirling's rocky base:
And, stretching far beneath the view,
Proud Cressingham! thy banners flew,
When, like a torrent rushing,
O God! from right and left the flame
Of Scottish swords like lightning came,
Great Edward's legions crushing!

High praise, ye gallant band,
Who, in the face of day,
With a daring heart and a fearless hand,
Have cast your chains away!
The foemen fell on every side--
In crimson hues the Forth was dyed--
Bedew'd with blood the heather,
While cries triumphal shook the air--
"Thus shall they do, thus shall they dare,
Wherever Scotsmen gather!"

Though years like shadows fleet
O'er the dial-stone of Time,
Thy pulse, O Freedom! still shall beat
With the throb of manhood's prime!
Still shall the valour, love, and truth,
That shone on Scotland's early youth,
From Scotland ne'er dissever;
The Shamrock, Rose, and Thistle stern
Shall wave around her Wallace cairn,
And bless the brave for ever!