CANTO SIXTH. The Guard-Room. I. HE sun, awakening, through the smoky air What various scenes, and, O! what scenes of woe, Are witness'd by that red and struggling beam! The fever'd patient, from his pallet low, Through crowded hospital beholds its stream; The ruin'd maiden trembles at its gleam, The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail, The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream; The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. At dawn the towers of Stirling rang Through narrow loop and casement barr'd,' The lights through arch of blacken'd stone, III. These drew not for their fields the sword, Like tenants of a feudal lord, Nor own'd the patriarchal claim Of Chieftain in their leader's name; MS.-Through blacken'd arch and casement barr'd, |