Died on the harp the closing hymn,--

Unmoved in attitude and limb, As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lord Stood leaning on his heavy sword, Until the page with humble sign Twice pointed to the sun's decline.

Then while his plaid he round him cast, 'It is the last time--'tis the last,'

He muttered thrice,--'the last time e'er That angel-voice shall Roderick hear''

It was a goading thought,--his stride Hied hastier down the mountain-side;Sullen he flung him in the boat An instant 'cross the lake it shot.

They landed in that silvery bay, And eastward held their hasty way Till, with the latest beams of light, The band arrived on Lanrick height'

Where mustered in the vale below Clan-Alpine's men in martial show.