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Poem by Robert Burns

Fragment of an Ode to the Memory of Prince Charles Edward Stuart

    FALSE flatterer, Hope, away!
  Nor think to lure us as in days of yore;
    We solemnise this sorrowing natal-day
  To prove our loyal truth; we can no more;
    And owning Heavens mysterious sway,
      Submissive low adore.

    Ye honourd mighty dead!
  Who nobly perishd in the glorious cause,
  Your king, your country, and her laws!
    From great Dundee who smiling victory led,
  And fell a martyr in her arms
  (What breast of northern ice but warms?)
    To bold Balmerinos undying name,
  Whose soul of fire, lighted at heavens high flame,
Deserves the proudest wreath departed heroes claim.

  Nor unavenged your fate shall be,
    It only lags the fatal hour;
  Your blood shall with incessant cry
    Awake at last th unsparing power;
  As from the cliff with thundering course,
  The snowy ruin smokes along,
  With doubling speed and gathering force,
  Till deep it crashing whelms the cottage in the vale!
    So Vengeance arm ensanguined, strong,
  Shall with resistless might assail,
    Usurping Brunswicks pride shall lay,
And Stewarts wrongs, and yours, with tenfold weight repay.

Robert Burns

Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. The Sailors Song
  2. The Rantin Dog the Daddie Ot
  3. Had I The Wyte
  4. Evan Banks
  5. Address, Spoken by Miss Fontenelle, on her Benefit-night, December 4, 1793, at the Theatre, Dumfries

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