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With Baird, with Ferguson and Græme,1

A leader worthy of the name,

And fought in pride of Scotland's ancient fame,
With firmer nerve and warmer will,
And where'er on hostile ground

A Scot or hardy Celt is found,
Thy spirit, Wallace, fighteth still.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

THE FALL OF THE KNIGHTS
TEMPLARS.

1314.

The Knights of the Temple, warlike monks, who were vowed to defend Jerusalem, were cruelly slandered and destroyed in 1307, chiefly through the influence of the King of France, Philip IV. The Temple in Fleet Street, London, was their property, and was given to the Knights of St. John, who leased it to the law students. The following poem, by Lord Houghton, is on the ruin of the Templars and the extinction of the crusading spirit. This is only a portion, speaking of—

THE warriors of the sacred grave
Who looked to Christ for laws,

And perished for the faith they gave

Their comrades and the cause."

Lord Lynedoch, who won the battle of Busaco in the Peninsular War.

The Templars who would not accuse their brethren of horrid crimes were tortured; many were burnt alive.

They perished in one fate alike,
The veteran and the boy,

Where'er the regal arm could strike

To torture and destroy.

While darkly down the stream of time,
Devised by evil fame,

Float murmurs of mysterious crime,
And tales of secret shame.

How oft, when avarice, hate, or pride,
Assault some noble band,

The outer world, that scorns the side
It does not understand,

Echoes each foul derisive word,
Gilds o'er each hideous sight,
And consecrates the wicked sword
With names of holy right.

Yet by these lessons men awake
To know they cannot bind
Discordant wills in one, and make
An aggregate of mind.1

For even in our best essay
At close fraternal ties,
An evil narrowness may lay

Our present sympathies.

1 This verse means that though there ought to be unity and concord there can never be absolute oneness of view on all points, and that to try to enforce absolute uniformity of mind leads to cruelty.

And love, however bright it burns

For what it holds most fond,
Is tainted by its unconcern
For all that lies beyond.

And still the earth has many a knight

To high vocation bound,

To conquer in enduring fight,

The Spirit's holy ground.

And manhood's pride and hopes of youth

Still meet the Templar's doom!

Crusaders of the ascended truth,

Not of the empty tomb.

LORD HOUGHTON.

THE FIELD OF BANNOCKBURN.

1314.

This extract, from Scott's "Lord of the Isles," commences with an account of the evening before the battle. A Scottish lady, Edith of Lorn, arrives.

WHEN o'er the Gillie's-hill she rode,
The landscape like a furnace glow'd,
And far as e'er the eye was borne
The lances waved like autumn corn.

In battles four beneath their eye
The forces of King Robert lie:
And one below the hill was laid
Reserved for rescue and for aid;

And three, advanced, formed vanward1 line
Twixt Bannock's burn and Ninian's shrine.
Detached was each, yet each so nigh
As well might mutual aid supply.
Beyond, the southron host appears
A boundless wilderness of spears,
Whose verge or rear the anxious eye
Strove far, but strove in vain to spy.
Thick flashing in the evening beam
Glaives, lances, bills, and banners gleam;
And where the heaven joined with the hill
Was distant armour flashing still.

So far, so wide, the boundless host
Seemed in the blue horizon1 lost.

II.

Down from the hill the maiden passed,
At the wild show of war aghast,
And traversed first the rearward host
Reserved for aid where needed most.
The men of Carrick and of Ayr,
Lennox and Lanark, too, were there,
And all the western land.

1 In front.

2 Swords.

Where earth and sky seem to meet.

3 Axes.

With these the valiant of the Isles1

Beneath their chieftains rank'd their files
In many a plaided band.

There in the centre, proudly raised,
The Bruce's royal standard blazed,
And there Lord Ronald's banner bore
A galley driven by sail and oar."
A wild yet pleasing contrast made
Warriors in plate and mail array'd,
With the plumed bonnet and the plaid
By these Hebrideans worn.

But oh! unseen for three long years,
Dear was the garb of mountaineers
To the fair maid of Lorn.

III.

To centre of the vanward line
Fitz-Louis guided Amadine.3

Arm'd, all on foot, that host appears
A serried mass of glimmering spears:
There stood the Marchers' warlike band,
The warriors there of Lodon's hand.

1 The Hebrides.

This is the ensign of the Lord of the Isles, but Lord Ronald as well as Edith of Lorn are imaginary persons.

3 Her assumed name.

Locked together.

5 Borderers.

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