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Clan-Colla's dirge is pealing wide,
The griesly headsman's by his side;
Along the green-wood Chase they bend,
And now their march has ghastly end!
That old and shatter'd oak beneath,

They destine for the place of death.
-What thoughts are his, while all in vain
His eye for aid explores the plain?

What thoughts, while, with a dizzy ear, He hears the death-prayer mutter'd near?

And must he die such death accurst,

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But other witnesses are nigh,

Who mock at fear, and death defy!

Soon as the dire lament was play'd,

It waked the lurking ambuscade.

The Island Lord look'd forth, and spied

The cause, and loud in fury cried,

"By Heaven they lead the page to die,

And mock me in his agony !

They shall abye it !"-On his arm

Bruce laid strong grasp, "They shall not harm

A ringlet of the stripling's hair;

But, till I give the word, forbear.

-Douglas, lead fifty of our force
Up yonder hollow water-course,
And couch thee midway on the wold,
Between the flyers and their Hold :
A spear above the copse display'd,
Be signal of the ambush made.

-Edward, with forty spearmen, straight
Through yonder copse approach the gate,
And, when thou hear'st the battle-din,

Rush forward, and the passage win,

Secure the drawbridge-storm the port

And man and guard the castle-court.

The rest move slowly forth with me,

In shelter of the forest-tree,

Till Douglas at his post I see."

XXVIII.

Like war-horse eager to rush on,
Compell'd to wait the signal blown,

Hid, and scarce hid, by green-wood bough,
Trembling with rage, stands Ronald now,
And in his grasp his sword gleams blue,
Soon to be dyed with deadlier hue.-
Meanwhile the Bruce, with steady eye,
Sees the dark death-train moving by,
And heedful measures oft the space,
The Douglas and his band must trace,
Ere they can reach their destined ground.

Now sinks the dirge's wailing sound,
Now cluster round the direful tree

That slow and solemn company,

While hymn mistuned and mutter'd prayer The victim for his fate prepare.

What glances o'er the green-wood shade?

The spear that marks the ambuscade !

"Now, noble Chief! I leave thee loose; Upon them, Ronald !" said the Bruce.

XXIX.

"The Bruce, the Bruce !" to well-known cry

His native rocks and woods reply.

"The Bruce, the Bruce !" in that dread word

The knell of hundred deaths was heard.

The astonish'd Southern gazed at first,

Where the wild tempest was to burst,

That waked in that presaging name.

Before, behind, around it came !

Half-arm'd, surprised, on every side

Hemm'd in, hew'd down, they bled and died.

Deep in the ring the Bruce engaged,

And fierce Clan-Colla's broadsword raged!

Full soon the few who fought were sped,

Nor better was their lot who fled,

And met, 'mid terror's wild career,
The Douglas's redoubted spear!
Two hundred yeomen on that morn
The castle left, and none return.

XXX.

Not on their flight press'd Ronald's brand,

A gentler duty claim'd his hand.

He raised the page, where on the plain

His fear had sunk him with the slain:

And twice, that morn, surprise well near
Betray'd the secret kept by fear;

Once, when, with life returning, came
To the boy's lip Lord Ronald's name,
And hardly recollection drown'd
The accents in a murmuring sound;
And once, when scarce he could resist
The Chieftain's care to loose the vest,

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