XXXVIII.

A moment pause they, and each other view
Like gladiators, and then forth they sprung;
Fiercely they closed, the combat fiercer grew,
And loud and terribly their armour rung:

Thrice reel'd the Scot, thrice the Hibernian too,

And both in death's embrace together clungBut while they struggled thus for death and life, Their clansmen part them, but for future strife.

XXXIX.

Foil'd, bleeding, furious, through their ranks they ran,
Breathing revenge, and dealing deeds of blood;
Cheering, supporting, strengthening each his clan,
Where courage faints, or danger thickest stood-
Now on the flank, now fighting in the van,

With foam and gore their garments deep imbued-
Hark to that deafening shout that rends the sky!

"The Scots give way!-they break!-they fly, they fly!"

XL.

Ill had Macdonald fared upon that day,

Had not Macaulay's aid been prompt and true;

For just as hopes of wealth and fame decay,

They reach the field, and fierce the fight renew

"What! do they fly so soon, in wild dismay?

Charge! cleave them, spare not, charge, pursue, pursue!"

Fatal command! what havoc hast thou made!

Rashly 'twas given, blindly 'twas obey'd.

XLI.

They fly! ay, but to lure thee to thy doom-
For near the field of strife a vast morass

Lay broad and deep, and at the midnight gloom
They made promiscuous paths of rush and grass,
Which led them safe-but proved a yawning tomb
To many hearts late triumphing-alas!
The tide now ebbs that lately flow'd too well!
Engulf'd, o'erwhelm'd, Macquillan's heroes fell!

XLII.

Outnumber'd, broken, hopeless, and deprest, His scatter'd gallogloths betake to flight; The eagle's wing is clipp'd, that on his crest Floated so fearful on the field of fight

And now he flies, distracted and distress'd, From foes who late the terror of his might Had keenly felt-in turn he's forced to yield, And leave Macdonald conqueror on the field.

END OF THE SECOND CANTO. .

CANTO III.

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