And then up rose the great Montrose 

 In the middle of the room,— 

 Now by my faith as belted knight, 

 And by the name I bear, 

 And by the bright St. Andrew's Cross, 

 That waves above us there; 

 Yea, by a greater mightier oath, 

 And oh! that such should be— 

 By that dark stream of royal blood, 

 That lies 'twixt you and me, 

 I have not sought in battle field 

 A wreath of such renown, 

 Or dared to hope my dying day 

 Would win a martyr's crown. 

 There is a chamber far away, 

 Where sleeps the good and brave 

 But a better place ye have named for me 

 Than by my fathers grave, 

 For truth and right 'gainst treason's might 

 This hand has always striven, 

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