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BEAUTIES OF SCOTLAND, SELECTION, by                    
First Line: Great-hearted wallace, still unmov'd, unbent
Last Line: Thou patriot martyr! Monarch of the free!
Subject(s): Wallace, Sir William (1270-1305)


GREAT-HEARTED Wallace, still unmov'd, unbent,
Thy Country's love! the passion of thy heart
Stood firm, devoted, never to depart.
Thou wert a gift from the Eternal sent;
And as thy strength of arm, thy strength of will,
Unselfish, firm, in loyalty the same;
Thy life wed to thy cause, unshaken still;
And thy great mind soar'd to a lofty aim,
Inspired to deeds eternal as thy fame!

Thou midst the faithless faithful stood alone,
Whose spirit power could neither crush nor bind,
No royal Prince by birth, but Prince in mind --
True when the noble, but the false, had gone
To sell the nation's birthright for a mess!
Like the apostates, Angus and Dunbar,
Whose high birth-boast but made their minds the less,
Whilst thine, still fixed as yonder polar star,
Shone through the storm, and dared the rage of war.

Thy country fell; thou, her defender, came
And to oppression proud defiance hurl'd;
Where Honour lauds thy daring through the world
It blasts aloud a tyrant's deed of shame!
That deed a thousand tongues could ne'er efface
With all that subtile sophistry could dole --
Still stands the inky, bloated, base disgrace;
Black in that page of crime reveals the whole,
They mangled thee, but could not smite thy soul!

And treachery gain'd what power had ne'er subdued,
But meanly purchased by the price of blood; --
The Judas-crime of old Robroyston Wood,
Sacred to shame, is with thy blood imbrued.
They sneer'd, and crown'd thee with a laurel crown,
But in their mocking blindness could not see
That they had crown'd with laurels thy renown.
Honour'd art thou, and all that fell with thee,
Thou patriot martyr! monarch of the free!





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