"All kinds and creatures stand and fall By strength of prowess or of wit, 'Tis God's appointment who must sway, And who is to submit. "Since then," said Robin, "right is plain, And longest life is but a day; To have my ends, maintain my rights, I'll take the shortest way." And thus among these rocks he lived Through summer's heat and winter's snow; The Eagle, he was lord above, And Rob was lord below. So was it--would at least have been But through untowardness of fate; For polity was then too strong: He came an age too late. Or shall we say an age too soon? For were the bold man living now, How might he flourish in his pride With buds on every bough? Then Rents and Land-marks, Rights of chase, Sheriffs and Factors, Lairds and Thanes, Would all have seem'd but paltry things Not worth a moment's pains. Rob Roy had never linger'd here, To these few meagre vales confined, But thought how wide the world, the times How fairly to his mind. And to his Sword he would have said, "Do thou my sovereign will enact From land to land through half the earth; Judge thou of law and fact. "'Tis fit that we should do our part; Becoming that mankind should learn That we are not to be surpass'd In fatherly concern. "Of old things all are over old, Of good things none are good enough; I'll shew that I can help to frame A world of other stuff. "I, too, will have my Kings that take From me the sign of life and death, Kingdoms shall shift about like clouds Obedient to my breath." And if the word had been fulfill'd As might have been, then, thought of joy! France would have had her present Boast, And we our brave Rob Roy. Oh! say not so, compare them not; I would not wrong thee, Champion brave! Would wrong thee nowhere; least of all Here, standing by thy Grave. For thou, although with some wild thoughts, Wild Chieftain of a savage Clan, Hadst this to boast of--thou didst love The Liberty of Man. And had it been thy lot to live With us who now behold the light, Thou wouldst have nobly stirr'd thyself, And battled for the right. For Robin was the poor man's stay; The poor man's heart, the poor man's hand, And all the oppress'd who wanted strength Had Robin's to command. Bear witness many a pensive sigh Of thoughtful Herdsman when he strays Alone upon Loch Veol's heights, And by Loch Lomond's Braes. And far and near, through vale and hill, Are faces that attest the same; Kindling with instantaneous joy At sound of Rob Roy's name.