Scotland sprung from her sluggish sleep, and gave back her echo to his inspiring call.

I looked upon the hero's beaming brow, I met the sparkle of his brilliant eye, I bowed before the native majesty of his god-like form, but there was no joy for me.

Dark masses of clouds closed round the present sunshine; the present fled like a mist before them, and they oped, and then--there was still Wallace; but oh! how did I see him?
the scaffold, the cord, the mocking crowds, the steel-clad guards--all, all, even as he fell.

My children! my children! was there joy in this ?" There was a thrilling pathos in the old man's voice that touched the very heart of his listeners.

Agnes clung closer to the arm of her betrothed, and looked up tearfully in his face; his cheek was very pale, and his lip slightly quivered.