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Lo! see where rides the fire-ey'à Thane,
Who New her father dear,
Into his filver hair.
He reigns within yon gloomy den,
And strikes the lowly down,
And laughs when widows mourn.
See all around is scath'd and wild;
His country's fcourge he is;
So Heav'n shall turn from his.
Ile sat into his gloomy hall,
With waflel rout and play ;
From eve till dawn of day.
In boastful mood they spoke of war,
For baitle was their theme, Yet footh'd it still with thoughts more soft,
A simple lover's flame.
When dark, dark grew their Chieftain's brow, From out his seat he sprang,
of spears behind him rose, And cla:t'ring targets rang.
The shining shield he buckled on,
Some princely Soldan's pride ;
That glitter'd by his fide.
Black Fate sat nodding on his plumes,
O'ershadow'd his keen eyes, Stern as the ftedfast star of night,
That studs the winter-skies.
He wav'd his hand, the pipers play'd,
And forth they fallied out,
They answer'd with a fhout.
Now to their death-accuftom'd souls
His cruel thoughts ayow'd,
Hung like a heavy cloud.
Beneath the mirk of night they rush,
And, at their Chieftain's word, Loud as the waves on Kilda's shore,
They claih the steely sword.
On, on to Kenrick's stately tow'rs
Their deadly way they wend,