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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519687" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Dance of Death</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>Night and morning were at meeting<br>Over Waterloo;<br>Cocks had sung their earliest greeting;<br>Faint and low they crew,<br>For no paly beam yet shone<br>On the heights of Mount Saint John;<br>Tempest-clouds prolonged the sway<br>Of timeless darkness over day;<br>Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower<br>Marked it a predestined hour.<br>Broad and frequent through the night<br>Flashed the sheets of levin-light:<br>Muskets, glancing lightnings back,<br>Showed the dreary bivouac<br>Where the soldier lay,<br>Chill and stiff, and drenched with rain,<br>Wishing dawn of morn again,<br>Though death should come with day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II.<br>'Tis at such a tide and hour<br>Wizard, witch, and fiend have power,<br>And ghastly forms through mist and shower<br>Gleam on the gifted ken;<br>And then the affrighted prophet's ear<br>Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear<br>Presaging death and ruin near<br>Among the sons of men;-<br>Apart from Albyn's war-array,<br>'Twas then grey Allan sleepless lay;<br>Grey Allan, who, for many a day,<br>Had followed stout and stern,<br>Where, through battle's rout and reel,<br>Storm of shot and edge of steel,<br>Led the grandson of Lochiel,<br>Valiant Fassiefern.<br>Through steel and shot he leads no more,<br>Low laid 'mid friends' and foemen's gore-<br>But long his native lake's wild shore,<br>And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower,<br>And Morven long shall tell,<br>And proud Bennevis hear with awe<br>How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,<br>Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra<br>Of conquest as he fell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III.<br>Lone on the outskirts of the host,<br>The weary sentinel held post,<br>And heard, through darkness far aloof,<br>The frequent clang of courser's hoof,<br>Where held the cloaked patrol their course,<br>And spurred 'gainst storm the swerving horse;<br>But there are sounds in Allan's ear,<br>Patrol nor sentinel may hear,<br>And sights before his eye aghast<br>Invisible to them have passed,<br>When down the destined plain,<br>'Twixt Britain and the bands of France,<br>Wild as marsh-borne meteor's glance,<br>Strange phantoms wheeled a revel dance,<br>And doomed the future slain.-<br>Such forms were seen, such sounds were heard,<br>When Scotland's James his march prepared<br>For Flodden's fatal plain;<br>Such, when he drew his ruthless sword,<br>As Choosers of the Slain, adored<br>The yet unchristened Dane.<br>An indistinct and phantom band,<br>They wheeled their ring-dance hand in hand,<br>With gestures wild and dread;<br>The Seer, who watched them ride the storm,<br>Saw through their faint and shadowy form<br>The lightning's flash more red;<br>And still their ghastly roundelay<br>Was of the coming battle-fray,<br>And of the destined dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Song</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wheel the wild dance<br>While lightnings glance,<br>And thunders rattle loud,<br>And call the brave<br>To bloody grave,<br>To sleep without a shroud.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our airy feet,<br>So light and fleet,<br>They do not bend the rye<br>That sinks its head when whirlwinds rave,<br>And swells again in eddying wave,<br>As each wild gust blows by;<br>But still the corn,<br>At dawn of morn,<br>Our fatal steps that bore,<br>At eve lies waste,<br>A trampled paste<br>Of blackening mud and gore.<br>Wheel the wild dance<br>While lightnings glance,<br>And thunders rattle loud,<br>And call the brave<br>To bloody grave,<br>To sleep without a shroud.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V.<br>Wheel the wild dance!<br>Brave sons of France,<br>For you our ring makes room;<br>Make space full wide<br>For martial pride,<br>For banner, spear, and plume.<br>Approach, draw near,<br>Proud cuirassier!<br>Room for the men of steel!<br>Through crest and plate<br>The broadsword's weight<br>Both head and heart shall feel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI.<br>Wheel the wild dance<br>While lightnings glance,<br>And thunders rattle loud,<br>And call the brave<br>To bloody grave,<br>To sleep without a shroud.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sons of the spear!<br>You feel us near<br>In many a ghastly dream;<br>With fancy's eye<br>Our forms you spy,<br>And hear our fatal scream.<br>With clearer sight<br>Ere falls the night,<br>Just when to weal or woe<br>Your disembodied souls take flight<br>On trembling wing-each startled sprite<br>Our choir of death shall know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII.<br>Wheel the wild dance<br>While lightnings glance,<br>And thunders rattle loud,<br>And call the brave<br>To bloody grave,<br>To sleep without a shroud.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Burst, ye clouds, in tempest showers,<br>Redder rain shall soon be ours-<br>See the east grows wan-<br>Yield we place to sterner game,<br>Ere deadlier bolts and direr flame<br>Shall the welkin's thunders shame,<br>Elemental rage is tame<br>To the wrath of man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII.<br>At morn, grey Allan's mates with awe<br>Heard of the visioned sights he saw,<br>The legend heard him say;<br>But the Seer's gifted eye was dim,<br>Deafened his ear, and stark his limb,<br>Ere closed that bloody day.<br>He sleeps far from his Highland heath,<br>But often of the Dance of Death<br>His comrades tell the tale<br>On picquet-post, when ebbs the night,<br>And waning watch-fires glow less bright,<br>And dawn is glimmering pale.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sir+Walter+Scott">Sir Walter Scott</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519687" data-title="The Dance of Death de Sir Walter Scott" data-description="I.
Night and morning were at meeting
Over Waterloo;
Cocks had sung their earliest greeting;
Faint and low they crew,
For no paly beam yet shone
On the heights of Mount Saint John;
Tempest-clouds prolonged the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Wh..."></div>
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