过来，埃文·卡梅伦!来吧，站在我的膝边:我听见河水呼啸而下，奔向寒冷的大海。山腰上有人叫嚷，狂风中有战争;苍老的面孔望着我，苍老的身影成群结队地走过;我听见风笛在战斗的喧闹声中哀鸣，我昏沉的灵魂又在黑夜的边缘苏醒。是我带领高地军队穿过洛查伯荒野的?什么时候格纹部落下来和蒙特罗斯作战?我已经告诉过你南方人是怎样倒在大刀阔斧下的，还有我们是怎样用因弗罗奇打败坎贝尔家族的?年代海岸。我告诉过你我们是如何横扫敦提的，现在呢?林赛一家?骄傲;但我还没有告诉你那个伟大的侯爵是怎么死的。 A traitor sold him to his foes; O deed of deathless shame! I charge thee, boy, if e?er thou meet With one of Assynt?s name? Be it upon the mountain?s side, Or yet within the glen, Stand he in martial gear alone, Or back?d by armed men? Face him, as thou wouldst face the man Who wrong?d thy sire?s renown; Remember of what blood thou art, And strike the caitiff down! They brought him to the Watergate, Hard bound with hempen span, As though they held a lion there, And not a fenceless man. They set him high upon a cart, The hangman rode below, They drew his hands behind his back And bar?d his noble brow. Then, as a hound is slipp?d from leash, They cheer?d the common throng, And blew the note with yell and shout And bade him pass along. It would have made a brave man?s heart Grow sad and sick that day, To watch the keen malignant eyes Bent down on that array. There stood the Whig west-country lords, In balcony and bow; There sat their gaunt and wither?d dames, And their daughters all a-row. And every open window Was full as full might be With black-rob?d Covenanting carles, That goodly sport to see! But when he came, though pale and wan, He look?d so great and high, So noble was his manly front, So calm his steadfast eye, The rabble rout forbore to shout, And each man held his breath, For well they knew the hero?s soul Was face to face with death. And then a mournful shudder Through all the people crept, And some that came to scoff at him Now turn?d aside and wept. But onwards?always onwards, In silence and in gloom, The dreary pageant labor?d, Till it reach?d the house of doom. Then first a woman?s voice was heard In jeer and laughter loud, And an angry cry and a hiss arose From the heart of the tossing crowd: Then as the Graeme look?d upwards, He saw the ugly smile Of him who sold his king for gold, The master-fiend Argyle! The Marquis gaz?d a moment, And nothing did he say, But the cheek of Argyle grew ghastly pale And he turn?d his eyes away. The painted harlot by his side, She shook through every limb, For a roar like thunder swept the street, And hands were clench?d at him; And a Saxon soldier cried aloud, ?Back, coward, from thy place! For seven long years thou hast not dar?d To look him in the face.? Had I been there with sword in hand, And fifty Camerons by, That day through high Dunedin?s streets Had peal?d the slogan-cry. Not all their troops of trampling horse, Nor might of mailed men, Not all the rebels in the south Had borne us backwards then! Once more his foot on Highland heath Had trod as free as air, Or I, and all who bore my name, Been laid around him there! It might not be. They placed him next Within the solemn hall, Where once the Scottish kings were thron?d Amidst their nobles all. But there was dust of vulgar feet On that polluted floor, And perju?d traitors fill?d the place Where good men sate before. With savage glee came Warristoun To read the murderous doom; And then uprose the great Montrose In the middle of the room. ?Now, by my faith as belted knight, And by the name I bear, And by the bright Saint Andrew?s cross That waves above us there, Yea, by a greater, mightier oath? And oh, that such should be! By that dark stream of royal blood That lies ?twixt you and me, I have not sought in battle-field A wreath of such renown, Nor dar?d I hope on my dying day To win the martyr?s crown! ?There is a chamber far away Where sleep the good and brave, But a better place ye have nam?d for me Than by my father?s grave. For truth and right, ?gainst treason?s might, This hand hath always striven, And ye raise it up for a witness still