Ii

Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue. All while he stripped the wild-rose spray, His ax and bow beside him lay, For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood, A wakeful sentinel he stood. Hark! on the rock a footstep rung, And instant to his arms he sprung. "Stand, or thou diest!--What, Malise?--soon Art thou returned from Braes of Doune. By thy keen step and glance I know, Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe." For while the Fiery Cross hied on, On distant scout had Malise gone.-- "Where sleeps the Chief?" the henchman said. "Apart, in yonder misty glade; To his lone couch I'll be your guide." Then called a slumberer by his side, And stirred him with his slackened bow-- "Up, up, Glantarkin! rouse thee, ho! We seek the Chieftain; on the track, Keep eagle watch till I come back."