When Darkness, at midnight, her curtain extending, Had wrapp'd in its mantle, Earth, Ocean and Sky, From his sepulchre, sadly and slowly ascending, The ghost of great WALLACE strode frowningly by. All clotted his locks, and all grisly his beard, And sore mangled with wounds that still seem'd to bleed, Whilst I trembled, these soul-thrilling accents were heard, Read, recreant Minstrel, and blush whilst you read! "Shall a Minstrel of Scotland emblazon the glory Of the blood-thirsty Chief of a barbarous clan! And shall WALLACE, unsung, sleep 'alone with his glory,' Forgotten the Hero, the Patriot, the Man!" He spoke — and, encircled with heavenly light, 'Mid ravishing airs, disappear'd from my sight.
