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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538113" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Heart Of The Bruce</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was upon an April morn,<br>While yet the frost lay hoar,<br>We heard Lord James's bugle-horn<br>Sound by the rocky shore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then down we went, a hundred knights,<br>All in our dark array,<br>And flung our armour in the ships<br>That rode within the bay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We spoke not as the shore grew less,<br>But gazed in silence back,<br>Where the long billows swept away<br>The foam behind our track.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And aye the purple hues decay'd<br>Upon the fading hill,<br>And but one heart in all that ship<br>Was tranquil, cold, and still.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The good Lord Douglas walk'd the deck,<br>And oh, his brow was wan!<br>Unlike the flush it used to wear<br>When in the battle van.-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Come hither, come hither, my trusty knight,<br>Sir Simon of the Lee;<br>There is a freit lies near my soul<br>I fain would tell to thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Thou know'st the words King Robert spoke<br>Upon his dying day,<br>How he bade me take his noble heart<br>And carry it far away;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And lay it in the holy soil<br>Where once the Saviour trod,<br>Since he might not bear the blessed Cross,<br>Nor strike one blow for God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Last night as in my bed I lay,<br>I dream'd a dreary dream:-<br>Methought I saw a Pilgrim stand<br>In the moonlight's quivering beam.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'His robe was of the azure dye,<br>Snow-white his scatter'd hairs,<br>And even such a cross he bore<br>As good Saint Andrew bears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''Why go you forth, Lord James,' he said,<br>'With spear and belted brand?<br>Why do you take its dearest pledge<br>From this our Scottish land?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''The sultry breeze of Galilee<br>Creeps through its groves of palm,<br>The olives on the Holy Mount<br>Stand glittering in the calm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''But 'tis not there that Scotland's heart<br>Shall rest by God's decree,<br>Till the great angel calls the dead<br>To rise from earth and sea!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''Lord James of Douglas, mark my rede!<br>That heart shall pass once more<br>In fiery fight against the foe,<br>As it was wont of yore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''And it shall pass beneath the Cross,<br>And save King Robert's vow,<br>But other hands shall bear it back,<br>Not, James of Douglas, thou!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now, by thy knightly faith, I pray,<br>Sir Simon of the Lee-<br>For truer friend had never man<br>Than thou hast been to me-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'If ne'er upon the Holy Land<br>'Tis mine in life to tread,<br>Bear thou to Scotland's kindly earth<br>The relics of her dead.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The tear was in Sir Simon's eye<br>As he wrung the warrior's hand-<br>'Betide me weal, betide me woe,<br>I'll hold by thy command.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But if in battle front, Lord James,<br>'Tis ours once more to ride,<br>No force of man, nor craft of fiend,<br>Shall cleave me from thy side!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And aye we sail'd, and aye we sail'd,<br>Across the weary sea,<br>Until one morn the coast of Spain<br>Rose grimly on our lee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And as we rounded to the port,<br>Beneath the watch-tower's wall,<br>We heard the clash of the atabals,<br>And the trumpet's wavering call.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Why sounds yon Eastern music here<br>So wantonly and long,<br>And whose the crowd of armèd men<br>That round yon standard throng?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The Moors have come from Africa<br>To spoil and waste and slay,<br>And King Alonzo of Castile<br>Must fight with them to-day.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now shame it were,' cried good Lord James,<br>'Shall never be said of me,<br>That I and mine have turn'd aside,<br>From the Cross in jeopardie!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Have down, have down, my merry men all-<br>Have down unto the plain;<br>We'll let the Scottish lion loose<br>Within the fields of Spain!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now welcome to me, noble lord,<br>Thou and thy stalwart power;<br>Dear is the sight of a Christian knight<br>Who comes in such an hour!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Is it for bond or faith ye come,<br>Or yet for golden fee?<br>Or bring ye France's lilies here,<br>Or the flower of Burgundie?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'God greet thee well, thou valiant King,<br>Thee and thy belted peers-<br>Sir James of Douglas am I called,<br>And these are Scottish spears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'We do not fight for bond or plight,<br>Not yet for golden fee;<br>But for the sake of our blessed Lord,<br>Who died upon the tree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'We bring our great King Robert's heart<br>Across the weltering wave,<br>To lay it in the holy soil<br>Hard by the Saviour's grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'True pilgrims we, by land or sea,<br>Where danger bars the way;<br>And therefore are we here, Lord King,<br>To ride with thee this day!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The King has bent his stately head,<br>And the tears were in his eyne-<br>'God's blessing on thee, noble knight,<br>For this brave thought of thine!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I know thy name full well, Lord James,<br>And honour'd may I be,<br>That those who fought beside the Bruce<br>Should fight this day for me!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Take thou the leading of the van,<br>And charge the Moors amain;<br>There is not such a lance as thine<br>In all the host of Spain!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Douglas turned towards us then,<br>O but his glance was high!-<br>'There is not one of all my men<br>But is as bold as I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'There is not one of all my knights<br>But bears as true a spear-<br>Then onwards! Scottish gentlemen,<br>And think-King Robert's here!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The trumpets blew, the cross-bolts flew,<br>The arrows flashed like flame,<br>As spur in side, and spear in rest,<br>Against the foe we came.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And many a bearded Saracen<br>Went down, both horse and man;<br>For through their ranks we rode like corn,<br>So furiously we ran!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But in behind our path they closed,<br>Though fain to let us through,<br>For they were forty thousand men,<br>And we were wondrous few.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We might not see a lance's length,<br>So dense was their array,<br>But the long fell sweep of the Scottish blade<br>Still held them hard at bay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Make in! make in!' Lord Douglas cried,<br>'Make in, my brethren dear!<br>Sir William of Saint Clair is down;<br>We may not leave him here!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But thicker, thicker, grew the swarm,<br>And sharper shot the rain,<br>And the horses reared amid the press,<br>But they would not charge again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now Jesu help thee,' said Lord James,<br>'Thou kind and true St Clair!<br>An' if I may not bring thee off,<br>I'll die beside thee there!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then in his stirrups up he stood,<br>So lionlike and bold,<br>And held the precious heart aloft<br>All in its case of gold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He flung it from him, far ahead,<br>And never spake he more,<br>But-'Pass thee first, thou dauntless heart,<br>As thou wert wont of yore!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The roar of fight rose fiercer yet,<br>And heavier still the stour,<br>Till the spears of Spain came shivering in,<br>And swept away the Moor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now praised be God, the day is won!<br>They fly o'er flood and fell-<br>Why dost thou draw the rein so hard,<br>Good knight, that fought so well?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh, ride ye on, Lord King!' he said,<br>'And leave the dead to me,<br>For I must keep the dreariest watch<br>That ever I shall dree!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'There lies, beside his master's heart,<br>The Douglas, stark and grim;<br>And woe is me I should be here,<br>Not side by side with him!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The world grows cold, my arm is old,<br>And thin my lyart hair,<br>And all that I loved best on earth<br>Is stretch'd before me there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Bothwell banks! that bloom so bright,<br>Beneath the sun of May,<br>The heaviest cloud that ever blew<br>Is bound for you this day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And, Scotland, thou may'st veil thy head<br>In sorrow and in pain;<br>The sorest stroke upon thy brow<br>Hath fallen this day in Spain!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'We'll bear them back unto our ship,<br>We'll bear them o'er the sea,<br>And lay them in the hallowed earth,<br>Within our own countrie.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And be thou strong of heart, Lord King,<br>For this I tell thee sure,<br>The sod that drank the Douglas' blood<br>Shall never bear the Moor!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The King he lighted from his horse,<br>He flung his brand away,<br>And took the Douglas by the hand,<br>So stately as he lay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'God give thee rest, thou valiant soul,<br>That fought so well for Spain;<br>I'd rather half my land were gone,<br>So thou wert here again!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We bore the good Lord James away,<br>And the priceless heart he bore,<br>And heavily we steer'd our ship<br>Towards the Scottish shore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No welcome greeted our return,<br>Nor clang of martial tread,<br>But all were dumb and hushed as death<br>Before the mighty dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We laid our chief in Douglas Kirk,<br>The heart in fair Melrose;<br>And woeful men were we that day-<br>God grant their souls repose!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Edmondstoune+Aytoun">William Edmondstoune Aytoun</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=538113" data-title="The Heart Of The Bruce de William Edmondstoune Aytoun" data-description="It was upon an April morn,
While yet the frost lay hoar,
We heard Lord James's bugle-horn
Sound by the rocky shore.

Then down we went, a hundred knights,
All in our dark array,
And flung our armour in the ships
That rode within the bay.

We spoke..."></div>
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