The Lion Of Scotland - Cnoc An Tursa

Red Lion famed and feared of old

On Scotland’s battle field,

The blazon of her banner fold—

The 'scutcheon of her shield.

Meet emblem of her heroes, whom

Thou ledd’st to battle forth,

And ledd’st to triumph, or a tomb,

Red Lion of the North

The warlike Pict, the wandering Dane,

Oft thou hast made to mourn,

And sterner glories dyed thy name, —

The blood of Bannockburn!

On later fields, in many a clime,

Hast thou pawed proudly forth,

Triumphant as of olden time,

Red Lion of the North

The chieftain’s cairn, the martyr’s grave,

Where sleep the heroic dead,

May ne’er the footstep of a slave,

Profane them with their tread—

Nor vainly may the Future see

Our armed hosts go forth,

Beneath St. Andrew’s cross, and thee,

Red Lion of the North

The ancient mind, the ancient might,

Still may our hills produce,

To wield the sword of Wallace wight,

The battle-axe of Bruce !

The soul to love the minstrel’s lore,

And prize the patriot’s worth.

The spirit of the years of yore,

Red Lion of the North

High honour unto thine and thee,

For never shalt thou wave,

But from the flag-staff of the free,

The banner of the brave !

And by thy glories in the past,

When Scotland bears thee forth,

Stand thou for freedom, first and last.

Red Lion of the North