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Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/181

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141
OSCAR OF ALVA.

47.

Dark is the robe which wraps his form,
And tall his plume of gory red;
His voice is like the rising storm,
But light and trackless is his tread.


48.

'Tis noon of night, the pledge goes round,
The bridegroom's health is deeply quaft'd;
With shouts the vaulted roofs resound,
And all combine to hail the draught.


49.

Sudden the stranger-chief arose,
And all the clamorous crowd are hush'd;
And Angus' cheek with wonder glows,
And Mora's tender bosom blush'd.


50.

"Old man!" he cried, "this pledge is done,
Thou saw'st 'twas truly drunk by me;
It hail'd the nuptials of thy son:
Now will I claim a pledge from thee.


51.

"While all around is mirth and joy,
To bless thy Allan's happy lot,
Say, hadst thou ne'er another boy?
Say, why should Oscar be forgot?"