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And some who spurs had first braced on,
King Edward's 'hest obey.
Sunk banner, spear, and shield; Each weapon-point is downward bent. “ The rebels, Argentine, repent !
For pardon they have kneeled.”
Earl Gilbert waved his truncheon high,
Just as the Northern ranks arose,
To halt and bend their bows.
And raised his left hand high;
Ten thousand arrows fly.
As fiercely and as fast
Adown December's blast.
If the fell shower may last.
Upon the right, behind the wood,
The Scottish chivalry ;
Then, "Mount, ye gallants free!"
And loud shouts Edward Bruce“ Forth, Marshal, on the peasant foe! We'll tame the terrors of their bow
And cut the bowstrings loose !" Then spurs were dashed in chargers' flanks They rushed among the archer ranks ; No spears were there the shock to let, No stakes to turn the charge were set ; And how shall yeoman's armor light Stand the long lance and mace of might ? Or what may their short swords avail 'Gainst barbed horse and shirt of mail ? Amid their ranks the chargers sprung, High o'er their heads the weapons rung, And shriek and groan and vengeful shout Give note of triumph and of rout. Awhile with stubborn hardihood Their English hearts the fight made good; Borne down at length on every side, Compelled to fight, they scatter wide. Let Stags of Sherwood leap for glee, And bound the deer of Dallom-Lee ! The broken bows of Bannock's shore Shall in the greenwood sing no more ! Round Wakefield's merry May-pole now The maids may twine the summer bough, May northward look with longing glance
For those that wont to lead the dance,
The king with scorn beheld their flight :
But in mid-space the Bruce's care
That formed a ghastly snare.
That panted for the shock.
As far as Stirling Rock.
Wild foundering on the field.
The knightly helm and shield,