III.
So Guy the ever-daring
One fierce September night,
While beacon-fires were flaring
Along the Mizen's height—
As I, from pastimes shrinking,
Of Rose's scorn was thinking—
Cried, all at once upspringing
'Mid dance and mirth and singing
And games and laughters light;
And Hugh the eager-hearted
Out to the portal darted,
And Wolfe and Wilfred started
And Donald, Ralph, and I;
And, prayers and sweet imploring
From maiden lips ignoring,
With spirits wildly soaring
We faced the seas and sky.