Rememb’rest thou the bloody Albuera! The deadly breach in Badajoz’s walls! Vittoria! Salamanca! Talavera! Till Roncesvalles echoed to our balls! Ha! how we drove the Frenchmen all before us, As foam is driven before the stormy breeze! We fought right on, with conquering banners o’er us, From Torres Vedras to the Pyrenees. We fought right on, &c. Dost thou remember to the war returning, --Long will our enemies remember too!-- We fought again, our hearts for glory burning, At Quatre Bras and awful Waterloo! We thought of home upon that Sabbath morning When Cameron’s pibroch roused our Highland corps, Then proudly marched, the mighty Emperor scorning, And vowed to die or conquer as of yore! Then proudly marched, &c. Rememb’rest thou the old familiar faces Of warriors nursed in many a stormy fight, Whose lonely graves, which now the stranger traces, Mark every spot they held from morn till night? In vain did Cuirassiers in clouds surround them, With cannon thundering as the tempest raves; They left our squares, oh! just as they had found them, Firm as the rocks amidst the ocean’s waves! They left our squares, &c. Those days are past, my soldier, old and hoary, But still the scars are on thy manly brow; We both have shared the danger and the glory, Come, let us share the peace and comfort now. Come to my home, for thou hast not another, And dry those tears, for thou shall beg no more; There, take this hand, and let us march together Down to the grave, where life’s campaign is o’er! There, take this hand, &c. While the song was being sung the Sergeant turned his head on his pillow away from the Corporal. When it was finished, he said, "Come here, Dick." The Corporal went to the bed, and seized the Sergeant’s proffered hand. "That sang will do me mair guid than a’ their medicine. The guidwife will gie ye half-a-croon for puir Sandie Tamson." Then asking Katie to leave him alone for a few moments with the Corporal, the Sergeant said, retaining his hand-- "I’m no dangerously ill, my auld friend; but I’m no’ weel--I’m no’ weel! There’s a weight on my mind, and an oppression aboot my heart that hauds me doun extraordinar’." "Dinna gie in, Adam--dinna gie in, wi’ the help o’ Him that has brocht ye thro’ mony a waur fecht," replied the Corporal as he sat down beside him. "D’ye mind the time when ye followed Cainsh up the ladder at Badajoz? and d’ye mind when that glorious fallow Loyd was kill’t at Nivelle! Noo----" "Ah, Dick! thae days, man, are a’ by! I’m no’ what I was," said the Sergeant. "I’m a puir crippled, wounded veteran, no’ fit for ony mair service--no’ even as an elder," he added, with a bitter smile.