Face to the wind in bitter cold <br />Beards crusted with ice <br />Gray eyes steeled in fierce rebellion <br />No foreign blade to master <br />The proud beating of a stout Highland heart. <br /> <br />The kilted clans had banned together <br />MacDonald and Fraser, Cameron and Stewart <br />A Bonnie Prince to lead them <br />Outnumbered, yet undaunted <br />Flags defiantly unfurled <br />A shaft of courage to drive sweet freedom <br />Home. <br /> <br />The bagpipe sounds its thrilling tune <br />The ranks in line of tartan shield <br />English cannon pounding <br />From generation to generation <br />Father and son <br />Kinsman and brother <br />A slow steady advance and <br /> <br />Charge! <br /> <br />Across the sodden moor <br />Broadswords waving <br />Over the blood-stained ground <br />A gallant fight of hand-to-hand <br />And death <br />At last succumbing <br />An hundred years and more… <br /> <br />No more. <br /> <br />The final thrust of grim Fate’s story <br />Here <br />Upon a Scots grave field of <br />Honor.<br /><br />Laurence Overmire<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/culloden-moor-16-apr-1746/
