O F G W h B h（2 / 2）

the heaven-taught ng,

to thee i turn with swig eyes;

where is that ul of freedo fled?

igled with the ighty dead,

beneath that hallow&039;d turf where walce lies

hear it not, walce! thy bed of death

ye babblg ds! silence sweep,

disturb not ye the hero&039;s sleep,

nor give the ward secret breath!

is this the ancient caledonian for,

fir as the rock, resistless as the stor?

show that eye which shot iortal hate,

bstg the despot&039;s proudest bearg;

show that ar which, nerv&039;d with thunderg fate,

crh&039;d urpation&039;s boldest darg!—

dark-ench&039;d as yonder skg star,

no ore that gnce lightens afar;

that palsied ar no ore whirls on the waste of war