The International library of famous literature, selections from the world's great writers, ancient, mediaeval, and modern with biographical and explanatory notes and critical essays by many eminent writers . and, Armed like thyself, with single brand; For this is Coilantogle ford. And thou must keep thee with thy sword. The Saxon paused: I neer delayed, When foeman bade me draw my blade; Nay, more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death: Yet sure thy fair aiul generous faith. And my deep debt for life preserved, A better meed have well deserved; Can naught but blood our feud atone ? Are there no means
The International library of famous literature, selections from the world's great writers, ancient, mediaeval, and modern with biographical and explanatory notes and critical essays by many eminent writers . and, Armed like thyself, with single brand; For this is Coilantogle ford. And thou must keep thee with thy sword. The Saxon paused: I neer delayed, When foeman bade me draw my blade; Nay, more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death: Yet sure thy fair aiul generous faith. And my deep debt for life preserved, A better meed have well deserved; Can naught but blood our feud atone ? Are there no means ? —No, Stranger, none I And here, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; For thus spoke Fate by prophet bretl Between the living and the dead: Who spills the foremost foemans life, His party conquers in the strife. —• Then, by my word, the Saxon said, The riddle is already read. See yonder brake beneath the cliff, — There lies Ked Murdoch, stark and stiff. Thus Fate has solved her prophecy; Then yield to Fate, and not to me. To James, at Stirling, let us go, When, if thou wilt be still his foe, Or if the King shall not agree To grant thee grace and favor free,. FITZ^AMES AND RODERICK DHU. 6461 I plight mine lionor, oath, and word,That to thy native strengths restored,With each advantage thou shalt aids thee now to guard thy land. Dark lightning flashed from Rodericks eye: Soars thy presumption, then, so high, Because a wretched kern ye slew, Homage to name of Roderick Dhu ? He yields not, he, to man nor Fate! Thou addst but fuel to my hate; — My clansmans blood demands revenge. Not yet prepared ? — By heaven, I change My thought, and hold thy valor light As that of some vain carpet knight. Who ill deserved my courteous care, And whose best boast is but to wear A braid of his fair ladys hair. — I thank thee, Roderick, for the word! It nerves my heart, it steels my sword; For I have sworn this braid to stain In the best bl
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