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Poem by Walter Scott

Heres a Health to King Charles

Bring the bowl which you boast,
Fill it up to the brim;
Tis to him we love most,
And to all who love him.
Brave gallants, stand up,
And avaunt ye, base carles!
Were there death in the cup,
Heres a health to King Charles.

Though he wanders through dangers,
Unaided, unknown,
Dependent on strangers,
Estranged from his own;
Though tis under our breath,
Amidst forfeits and perils,
Heres to honor and faith,
And a health to King Charles!

Let such honors abound
As the time can afford,
The knee on the ground,
And the hand on the sword;
But the time shall come round
When, mid Lords, Dukes, and Earls,
The loud trumpet shall sound,
Heres a health to King Charles! 

Walter Scott

Walter Scott's other poems:
  1. Verses Found In Bothwell's Pocket-Book
  2. To the Sub-Prior
  3. Romance of Dunois
  4. The Noble Moringer
  5. The Crusader's Return

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