the heaven-taught ng,
to thee i turn with swig eyes;
where is that ul of freedo fled?
igled with the ighty dead,
beneath that hallow&039;d turf where walce lies
hear it not, walce! thy bed of death
ye babblg ds! silence sweep,
disturb not ye the hero&039;s sleep,
nor give the ward secret breath!
is this the ancient caledonian for,
fir as the rock, resistless as the stor?
show that eye which shot iortal hate,
bstg the despot&039;s proudest bearg;
show that ar which, nerv&039;d with thunderg fate,
crh&039;d urpation&039;s boldest darg!—
dark-ench&039;d as yonder skg star,
no ore that gnce lightens afar;
that palsied ar no ore whirls on the waste of war
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