There was mounting'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee;
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

POLISH WAR SONG.

I.

Freedom calls you! Quick, be ready,--
Rouse ye in the name of God,--
Onward, onward, strong and steady,--
Dash to earth the oppressor's rod.
Freedom calls, ye brave!
Rise and spurn the name of slave.

II.
Grasp the sword!--its edge is keen,
Seize the gun!--its ball is true:
Sweep your land from tyrant clean,--
Haste, and scour it through and through!
Onward, onward! Freedom cries,
Rush to arms,--the tyrant flies.

III.