Six thousand Veterans practis'd in War's game, Tried Men, at Killicranky were array'd Against an equal Host that wore the Plaid, Shepherds and Herdsmen.--Like a whirlwind came The Highlanders, the slaughter spread like flame; And Garry thundering down his mountain-road Was stopp'd, and could not breathe beneath the load Of the dead bodies. 'Twas a day of shame For them whom precept and the pedantry Of cold mechanic battle do enslave. Oh! for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave! Like conquest would the Men of England see; And her Foes find a like inglorious Grave. 25. _ANTICIPATION_. October, 1803. Shout, for a mighty Victory is won! On British ground the Invaders are laid low; The breath of Heaven has drifted them like snow, And left them lying in the silent sun, Never to rise again!--the work is done. Come forth, ye Old Men, now in peaceful show And greet your Sons! drums beat, and trumpets blow! Make merry, Wives! ye little Children stun Your Grandame's ears with pleasure of your noise! Clap, Infants, clap your hands! Divine must be That triumph, when the very worst, the pain, And even the prospect of our Brethren slain, Hath something in it which the heart enjoys:-- In glory will they sleep and endless sanctity. 26. November, 1803. Another year!--another deadly blow! Another mighty Empire overthrown! And we are left, or shall be left, alone; The last that dares to struggle with the Foe. 'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know That in ourselves our safety must be sought; That by our own right hands it must be wrought, That we must stand unpropp'd, or be laid low. O Dastard whom such foretaste doth not chear! We shall exult, if They who rule the land Be Men who hold its many blessings dear, Wise, upright, valiant; not a venal Band, Who are to judge of danger which they fear, And honour which they do not understand. _NOTES to the FIRST VOLUME_ _NOTES_. NOTE I. PAGE I (9).--_To the Daisy_. This Poem, and two others to the same Flower, which the Reader will find in the second Volume, were written in the year 1802; which is mentioned, because in some of the ideas, though not in the manner in which those ideas are connected, and likewise even in some of the expressions, they bear a striking resemblance to a Poem (lately published) of Mr. Montgomery, entitled, a Field Flower. This being said, Mr. Montgomery will not think any apology due to him; I cannot however help addressing him in the words of the Father of English Poets. 'Though it happe me to rehersin-- That ye han in your freshe song is saied, Forberith me, and beth not ill apaied, Sith that ye se I doe it in the honour Of Love, and eke in service of the Flour.' NOTE II. PAGE 35 (43); line 13.-- ".... persevering to the last, From well to better."