[Footnote:1. The song is taken as it appears in Stedman and Hutchinson's
_Library of American Literature_, vol. iv. p. 419. The text, slightly
different from the common one, corresponds to the facsimile of
a copy made by Mr. Key in 1840.]

THOMAS CAMPBELL
SCOTLAND, 1777-1844

HOHENLINDEN

On Linden when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow,
And dark as winter was the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

But Linden saw another sight
When the drum beat, at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her scenery.

By torch and trumpet fast array'd
Each horseman drew his battle-blade,
And furious every charger neigh'd,
To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
Then rush'd the steed to battle driven,
And louder than the bolts of heaven
Far flash'd the red artillery.