distinction, whose political principles had involved them in the
troubles of 1688, 1715, and 1745. Whether the cloister which now holds
their dust had afforded them a shelter in the later years of their
misfortunes, I know not; but for one that is so commemorated, hundreds
of the exiles must have passed away in obscurity, buried in the field on
which they fell, or carried from the damp vaults of the military
hospital to the trench, without any token of remembrance, or any other
wish beyond that which the minstrels have ascribed to one of the
greatest of our olden heroes--

"Oh bury me by the bracken bush,
Beneath the blooming brier:
Let never living mortal ken
That a kindly Scot lies here!"

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 2: _An account of Dundee's Officers after they went to
France_. By an Officer of the Army. London, 1714.]




THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS


I.

The Rhine is running deep and red,
The island lies before--