Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/268

232 And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;

And near, the beat of the alarming drum

Roused up the soldier ere the Morning Star;

While thronged the citizens with terror dumb,

Or whispering, with white lips—"The foe! They come! they come!"

XXVI.

And wild and high the "Cameron's Gathering" rose!

The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills

Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes:—

How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills,

Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills

Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers

With the fierce native daring which instils

The stirring memory of a thousand years,

And Evan's—Donald'sN4 fame rings in each clansman's ears!

XXVII.

And ArdennesN5 waves above them her green leaves,

Dewy with Nature's tear-drops, as they pass—

Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,

Over the unreturning brave,—alas!