"'Revenge! revenge!' the Saxons cried;
The Gaels' exulting shout replied. 575
Despite the elemental rage,
Again they hurried to engage;
But, ere they closed in desperate fight,
Bloody with spurring came a knight,
Sprung from his horse, and, from a crag, 580
Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white flag.
Clarion and trumpet by his side
Rung forth a truce-note high and wide,
While, in the Monarch's name, afar
An herald's voice forbade the war, 585
For Bothwell's lord, and Roderick bold,
Were both, he said, in captive hold."
--But here the lay made sudden stand,
The harp escaped the Minstrel's hand!--
Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 590
How Roderick brooked his minstrelsy:
At first, the Chieftain, to the chime,
With lifted hand, kept feeble time;
That motion ceased--yet feeling strong
Varied his look as changed the song; 595
At length, no more his deafened ear
The minstrel melody can hear;
His face grows sharp--his hands are clenched,
As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched;
Set are his teeth, his fading eye 600
Is sternly fixed on vacancy;
Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew
His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu!
Old Allan-bane looked on aghast,
While grim and still his spirit passed; 605
But when he saw that life was fled,
He poured his wailing o'er the dead.