From the far smitten earth a sullen sound,
Like deep-dell'd forests groaning to the strokes
Of lusty wood-men. On the watch-tower's height,
His straining eye shall mark our sheathless swords
From rank to rank their lengthen'd blaze emit,
Like streams of shiv'ring light, in hasty change,
Upon the northern firmament.—By stealth!
No! not by stealth!—believe me, not by stealth
Shalt thou these portals pass.
HELEN.
The pledge of peace: and here my place I'll hold
As dame and mistress of the warlike clan
Who yield obedience to their chief, my lord;
And whatsoe'er their will to me may bear,
Of good or ill, so will I hold me ever.
Yea, did the Lord of Lorne, dear as he is,
With all the warlike Campbells at his back
Here hostile entrance threaten; on these walls,
Failing the strength that might defend them better,
I would myself, while by my side in arms
One valiant clan's-man stood, against his powers,
To the last push, with desp'rate opposition,
This castle hold.
