There breathed no wind their crests to shake, Or wave their flags abroad; Scarce the frail aspen seemed to quake, That shadowed o'er their road. Their vaward scouts no tidings bring, Can rouse no lurking foe, Nor spy a trace of living thing, Save when they stirred the roe; The host moves, like a deep-sea wave, Where rise no rocks its pride to brave, High-swelling, dark, and slow. The lake is passed, and now they gain A narrow and a broken plain, Before the Trossachs' rugged jaws; And here the horse and spearmen pause, While, to explore the dangerous glen, Dive through the pass the archer-men.
XVII
'At once there rose so wild a yell Within that dark and narrow dell, As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, Had pealed the banner-cry of hell! Forth from the pass in tumult driven, Like chaff before the wind of heaven, The archery appear; For life! for life! their flight they ply— And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, And plaids and bonnets waving high, And broadswords flashing to the sky, Are maddening in the rear. Onward they drive, in dreadful race, Pursuers and pursued; Before that tide of flight and chase, How shall it keep its rooted place, The spearmen's twilight wood? 'Down, down,' cried Mar, 'your lances down! Bear back both friend and foe!' Like reeds before the tempest's frown, That serried grove of lances brown At once lay leveled low; And closely shouldering side to side, The bristling ranks the onset bide. 'We'll quell the savage mountaineer, As their Tinchel cows the game! They come as fleet as forest deer, We'll drive them back as tame.'
XVIII
'Bearing before them, in their course, The relics of the archer force, Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. Above the tide, each broadsword bright Was brandishing like beam of light, Each targe was dark below; And with the ocean's mighty swing, When heaving to the tempest's wing, They hurled them on the foe. I heard the lance's shivering crash, As when the whirlwind rends the ash; I heard the broadsword's deadly clang, As if an hundred anvils rang! But Moray wheeled his rearward rank Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine's flank, 'My banner-man advance! I see,' he cried, 'their column shake. Now, gallants! for your ladies' sake, Upon them with the lance!'
