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Walter Scott - Soldier, Wake
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Soldier, wake — the day is peeping, 
Honour ne`er was won in sleeping, 
Never when the sunbeams still 
Lay unreflected on the hill: 
`Tis when they are glinted back 
From axe and armour, spear and jack, 
That they promise future story 
Many a page of deathless glory. 
Shields that are the foe man`s terror, 
Ever are the morning`s mirror. 

Arm and up — the morning beam 
Hath call`d the rustic to his team, 
Hath call`d the falc`ner to the lake, 
Hath call`d the huntsman to the brake; 
The early student ponders o`er 
His dusty tomes of ancient lore. 
Soldier, wake — thy harvest, fame; 
Thy study, conquest; war, thy game. 
Shield, that would be foeman`s terror, 
Still should gleam the morning`s mirror. 

Poor hire repays the rustic`s pain; 
More paltry still the sportsman`s gain; 
Vainest of all, the student`s theme 
End in gome metaphysic dream. 
Yet each is up, and each has toil`d 
Since first the peep of dawn has smiled; 
And each is eagerer in his aim 
Than he who barters life for fame. 
Up, up, and arm thee, son of terror!
Be thy bright shield the morning`s mirror.
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