Chapter 181 No.181

The Chieftain reared his form on high,

And fever's fire was in his eye;

340 But ghastly pale, and livid streaks

Checkered his swarthy brow and cheeks.

"Hark, Minstrel! I have heard thee play,

With measure bold, on festal day,

In yon lone isle, ... again where ne'er

345 Shall harper play, or warrior hear!...

That stirring air