Poetry > Lady of the lake

Canto Ilf.
THE GATHERING.
133
XIII.
Speed, Malise, speed! the dun deer’s hide
On fleeter foot was never tied.
Speed, Malise, speed! such cause of haste
Thine active sinews never braced.
Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast,
Burst down like torrent from its crest;
With short and springing footstep pass
The trembling bog and false morass;
Across the brook like roebuck bound,
And thread the brake like questing hound;
The crag is high, the scaur is deep,
Yet shrink not from the desperate leap :
Parch’d are thy burning lips and brow.
Yet by the fountain pause not now;
Herald of battle, fate, and fear,1
Stretch onward in thy fleet career!
The wounded hind thou track’st not now,
Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough,
Nor pliest thou now thy flying pace,
With rivals in the mountain race;
But danger, death, and warrior deed,
Are in thy course—speed, Malise, speed >
i [MS.—“Dread messenger of fate and fear, |
Herald of danger, fate, and fear, |
Stretch onward in thy fleet career !
Thou track’s! not now the stricken doe,
Nor maiden coy through greenwood bough."’1