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Fly to the mountain-rock, where yet Revenge might strike, or peace forget!

They fled,—for she was by his side, Life's last and loveliest link, his bride,— Friends, fame, hope, freedom, all were gone, Or linger'd only with that one. They hasten'd by the lonely way That through the winding forest lay, Hearth, home, tower, temple, blazed behind, And shout and shriek came on the wind; And twice the warrior turn'd again And cursed the arm that now in vain, Wounded and faint, essay'd to grasp The sword that trembled in its clasp.