Page:Poems Denver.djvu/60

And sought the freedom peace would not afford,
Bidding it flash from out the vengeful sword.

Sword of the brave! the train of years long fled
Passes me by like mourners of the dead!
The beautiful and brave have gazed on thee,
Will thy stern spirit pause to speak to me?
Tell me the vengeance of thy mighty wrath,
Of all the tears that followed in thy path,
Of all the hopes that on thine absence hung,
And all the glory round thy presence flung!

Tell me of Scotland's woes, of Scotland's tears,
The gathered agony of long, long years,
Which her torn bosom felt, so dark and deep
That 'midst them all she scarce had room to weep!
Then tell me of her many victories won,
The proud achievements of her martyred son,
Tell of her Wallace found, of Wallace lost,
Answer me, Sword! for thou wast freedom's host.

"What would'st thou, mortal! can a voice of mine
Else from this silent steel to answer thine?
Oh! I could tell of many a deed sublime,
Whose brightness long has lit the stream of time.
How many centuries have passed away,
How many thrones have crumbled to decay,
Since first within these walls my light was shed,
A sacred relic of the mighty dead!