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The King had deem'd the maiden bright
When o’er the Gillie's-hill she rode.
The landscape like a furnace glow'd,
The lances waved like autumn-corn.
In battles four beneath their eye,
The forces of King Robert lie.
Reserved for rescue and for aid;
And three, advanced, form'd vaward-line,
'Twixt Bannock's brook and Ninian's shrine.
Detach'd was each, yet each so nigh
or rear the anxious eye
Strove far, but strove in vain, to spy.
Thick flashing in the evening beam,
Seem'd in the blue horizon lost.
Down from the hill the maiden pass'd,
And traversed first the rearward host,
Reserved for aid where needed most.
The men of Carrick and of Ayr,
Lennox and Lanark too, were there,
And all the western land;
With these the valiant of the Isles
Beneath their chieftains rank'd their files,
In many a plaided band.
There, in the centre, proudly raised,
And there Lord Ronald's banner bore
A galley driven by sail and oar.
By these Hebrideans worn;
To the fair Maid of Lorn!
For one she look'd but he was far
Busied amid the ranks of war
Yet with affection's troubled eye
To centre of the vaward line
Fitz-Louis guided Amadine.
Arm'd all on foot, that host appears
A serried mass of glimmering spears.
There stood the Marchers' warlike band,
The warriors there of Lodon's land;
Ettrick and Liddell bent the yew,
A band of archers fierce, though few;
The rest of Scotland's war-array
With Edward Bruce to westward lay,
Where Bannock, with his broken bank
And deep ravine, protects their flank. Behind them, screen’d by sheltering wood, The gallant Keith, Lord Marshal, stood :
His men-at-arms bear mace and lance,
And plumes that wave, and helms that glance.
Was strong reserve to aid the war.
Here must they pause; for, in advance
Alone he rode from head to heel
Shreathed in his ready arms of steel;