Ralph Waldo Emerson, comp. (1803–1882). Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry. 1880.
Rob Roys GraveWilliam Wordsworth (17701850)
A
The English ballad-singer’s joy!
And Scotland has a thief as good,
An outlaw of as daring mood;
She has her brave Rob Roy!
Then clear the weeds from off his grave,
And let us chant a passing stave
In honor of that hero brave!
And wondrous length and strength of arm:
Nor craved he more to quell his foes,
Or keep his friends from harm.
Forgive me if the phrase be strong;—
A poet worthy of Rob Roy
Must scorn a timid song.
As wise in thought as bold in deed:
For in the principle of things
He sought his moral creed.
Burn all the statutes and their shelves;
They stir us up against our kind;
And worse, against ourselves.
Too false to guide us or control!
And for the law itself we fight
In bitterness of soul.
Distinctions that are plain and few:
These find I graven on my heart:
That tells me what to do.
And those that travel on the wind!
With them no strife can last: they live
In peace, and peace of mind.
Sufficeth them, the simple plan,
That they should take who have the power,
And they should keep who can.
A signal this which all can see!
Thus nothing here provokes the strong
To wanton cruelty.
He tamed, who foolishly aspires:
While to the measure of his might
Each fashions his desires.
By strength of prowess or of wit:
’Tis God’s appointment who must sway,
And who is to submit.
And longest life is but a day;
To have my ends, maintain my rights,
I’ll take the shortest way.”
Through summer’s heat and winter’s snow:
The eagle, he was lord above,
And Rob was lord below.
But through untowardness of fate;
For polity was then too strong;
He came an age too late.
For, were the bold man living now,
How might he flourish in his pride,
With buds on every bough!
Sheriffs, and lairds and their domains,
Would all have seemed but paltry things,
Not worth a moment’s pains.
To these few meagre vales confined;
But thought how wide the world, the times
How fairly to his mind.
“Do thou my sovereign will enact
From land to land through half the earth!
Judge thou of law and fact!
Becoming, that mankind should learn
That we are not to be surpassed
In fatherly concern.
Of good things none are good enough:—
We’ll show that we can help to frame
A world of other stuff.
From me the sign of life and death;
Kingdoms shall shift about like clouds,
Obedient to my breath.”
As might have been, then, thought of joy!
France would have had her present boast,
And we our brave Rob Roy!
I would not wrong thee, champion brave!
Would wrong thee nowhere; least of all
Here standing by thy grave.
Wild chieftain of a savage clan!
Hadst this to boast of; thou didst love
The liberty of man.
With us who now behold the light,
Thou wouldst have nobly stirred thyself,
And battled for the right.
The poor man’s heart, the poor man’s hand!
And all the oppressed who wanted strength
Had thine at their command.
Of thoughtful herdsman when he strays
Alone upon Loch Veol’s heights,
And by Loch Lomond’s braes!
Are faces that attest the same,
And kindle, like a fire new stirred,
At sound of Rob Roy’s name.