Guendolen.
217
Silent, till a glad surprise
Dawned through the darkness in his eyes;
Then from the bugle's ringing throat
Sped so long and wild a note,
Over the dells and the vales remote
A flight of arrowy echoes sprang,
From hill to hill the signal rang,
And echoing horns and hounds that cried
Out of the hollow glens replied.
They who beside the watch-fire's flame
Sought rest and food when even came,
And, heedless of the midnight storm,
Slept pillowed on the reeking earth,
Believed their lord found shelter warm
Beside some cottage hearth;
'Nor guessed how, parted from his train,
He crossed the broken scent again,
And cheering with a hunter's zeal
His flagging hounds upon the way,
With planted foot and brandished steel
Held the brown stag at bay.
Dawned through the darkness in his eyes;
Then from the bugle's ringing throat
Sped so long and wild a note,
Over the dells and the vales remote
A flight of arrowy echoes sprang,
From hill to hill the signal rang,
And echoing horns and hounds that cried
Out of the hollow glens replied.
They who beside the watch-fire's flame
Sought rest and food when even came,
And, heedless of the midnight storm,
Slept pillowed on the reeking earth,
Believed their lord found shelter warm
Beside some cottage hearth;
'Nor guessed how, parted from his train,
He crossed the broken scent again,
And cheering with a hunter's zeal
His flagging hounds upon the way,
With planted foot and brandished steel
Held the brown stag at bay.
