"The toils are pitch'd, and the stakes are set, Ever sing merrily, merrily; The bows they bend, and the knives they whet, Hunters live so cheerily. "It was a stag, a stag of ten,[266] Bearing its branches sturdily; He came stately down the glen, Ever sing hardily, hardily. "It was there he met with a wounded doe, She was bleeding deathfully; She warn'd him of the toils below, Oh, so faithfully, faithfully! "He had an eye, and he could heed, Ever sing warily, warily; He had a foot, and he could speed-- Hunters watch so narrowly."[267] [266] Having antlers with ten branches. [267] "The hunters are Clan-Alpine's men; the stag of ten is Fitz-James; the wounded doe is herself!"--_Taylor._ XXVI. Fitz-James's mind was passion-toss'd, When Ellen's hints and fears were lost; But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought, And Blanche's song conviction brought.-- Not like a stag that spies the snare, But lion of the hunt aware, He waved at once his blade on high, "Disclose thy treachery, or die!" Forth at full speed the Clansman flew, But in his race his bow he drew. The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest, And thrill'd in Blanche's faded breast.-- Murdoch of Alpine! prove thy speed, For ne'er had Alpine's son such need! With heart of fire, and foot of wind, The fierce avenger is behind! Fate judges of the rapid strife-- The forfeit[268] death--the prize is life! Thy kindred ambush lies before, Close couch'd upon the heathery moor; Them couldst thou reach!--it may not be-- Thine ambush'd kin thou ne'er shalt see, The fiery Saxon gains on thee! --Resistless speeds the deadly thrust, As lightning strikes the pine to dust; With foot and hand Fitz-James must strain, Ere he can win his blade again. Bent o'er the fall'n, with falcon eye, He grimly smiled to see him die; Then slower wended back his way, Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. [268] Penalty. XXVII.