December，1697
The Rhine is running deep and red，the island lies before，“Now is there one of all the host will dare to venture o’er？
For not alone the river‘s sweep might make a brave man quail；The foe are on the further side，their shot comes fast as hail.
God help us，if the middle isle we may not hope to win；Now is there any of the host will dare to venture in？’‘“The ford is deep，the banks are steep，the islandshorelies wide；Nor man nor horse could stem its force，or reach the further side.
See there！amidst the willowboughs the serried bayonets gleam；They’ve flung their bridge，they‘ve won the isle；the foe have cross’d the stream！
Their volley flashes sharp and strong，by all the saints！
There never yet was soldier born could force that passage now！”
So spoke the bold French Mareschal with him who led the van，Whilst rough and red before their view the turbid river ran.
Nor bridge nor boat had they to cross the wild and swollen Rhine，And thundering on the other bank far stretch‘d the German line.
Hard by there stood a swarthy man was leaning on his sword，And a sadden’d smile lit up his face as he heard the Captain‘s word.
“I’ve seen a wilder stream ere now than that which rushes there；I‘ve stemm’d a heavier torrent yet and never thought to dare.
If German steel be sharp and keen，is ours not strong and true？
There may be danger in the deed，but there is honour too.”
The old lord in his saddle turn‘d，and hastily he said，“Hath bold Duguesclin’s fiery heart awaken‘d from thedead？
Thou art the leader of the Scots，now well and sure I know，That gentle blood in dangerous hour ne’er yet ran cold nor slow，And I have seen ye in the fight do all that mortal may：If honour is the boon ye seek，it may be won this day，The prize is in the middle isle，there lies the adventurousway，And armies twain are on the plain，the daring deed to see，Now ask thy gallant company if they will follow thee！”
Right gladsome look‘d the Captain then，and nothing did he say，But he turn’d him to his little band，O，few，I ween，were they！
The relics of the bravest force that ever fought in fray.No one of all that company but bore a gentle name，Not one whose fathers had not stood in Scotland‘s fields of fame.
All they had march’d with great Dundee to where he fought and fell，And in the deadly battlestrife had venged their leader well；And they had bent the knee to earth when every eye was dim，As o‘er their hero’s buried corpse they sang the funeral hymn；And they had trod the Pass once more，and stoop‘d on either sideTo pluck the heather from the spot where he had dropp’d and died；And they had bound it next their hearts，and ta‘en a last farewellOf Scottish earth and Scottish sky，where Scotland’s glory fell.
Then went they forth to foreign lands like bent and broken men，Who leave their dearest hope behind，and may not turn again.
“The stream，”he said，“is broad and deep，and stubborn is the foe，Yon islandstrength is guarded well，say，brothers，will ye go？
From home and kin for many a year our steps have wander‘d wide，And never may our bones be laid our fathers’graves beside.
No children have we to lament，no wives to wail our fall；The traitor‘s and the spoiler’s hand have reft our hearths of all.
But we have hearts，and we have arms，as strong to will and dareAs when our ancient banners flew within the northern air.
Come，brothers！let me name a spell shall rouse your souls again，And send the old blood bounding free through pulse and heart and vein.
Call back the days of bygone years，be young and strong once more；Think yonder stream，so stark and red，is one we‘ve cross’d before.
Rise，hill and glen！rise，crag and wood！rise up on either hand，Again upon the Garry‘s banks，on Scottish soil we stand！
Again I see the tartans wave，again the trumpets ring；Again I hear our leader’s call：‘Upon them for the King！’
Stay‘d we behind that glorious day for roaring flood or linn？
The soul of Gr？me is with us still，now，brothers，will ye in？”
No stay，no pause.With one accord，they grasp’d each other‘s hand，Then plunged into the angry flood，that bold and dauntless band.
