James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
August 25The Heart of the Bruce
By William E. Aytoun (18131865)
T
The arrows flashed like flame,
As spur in side, and spear in rest,
Against the foe we came.
Went down, both horse and man;
For through their ranks we rode like corn,
So furiously we ran!
Though fain to let us through,
For they were forty thousand men,
And we were wondrous few.
So dense was their array,
But the long fell sweep of the Scottish blade
Still held them hard at bay.
“Make in, my brethren dear!
Sir William of Saint Clair is down;
We may not leave him here!”
And sharper shot the rain,
And the horses reared amid the press,
But they would not charge again.
“Thou kind and true St. Clair!
An’ if I may not bring thee off,
I’ll die beside thee there!”
So lionlike and bold,
And held the precious heart aloft
All in its case of gold.
And never spake he more,
But—“Pass thee first, thou dauntless heart,
As thou wert wont of yore!”
And heavier still the stour,
Till the spears of Spain came shivering in,
And swept away the Moor.
They fly o’er flood and fell—
Why dost thou draw the rein so hard,
Good knight, that fought so well?”
“And leave the dead to me,
For I must keep the dreariest watch
That ever I shall dree!
The Douglas, stark and grim;
And woe is me I should be here,
Not side by side with him!”
The King he lighted from his horse,
He flung his brand away,
And took the Douglas by the hand,
So stately as he lay.
That fought so well for Spain;
I’d rather half my land were gone,
So thou wert here again!”
And the priceless heart he bore,
And heavily we steer’d our ship
Towards the Scottish shore.
Nor clang of martial tread,
But all were dumb and hushed as death
Before the mighty dead.
The heart in fair Melrose;
And woeful men were we that day—
God grant their souls repose!