“Ye may fall, if over the crest ye ride,

On the Irish enemy!

“When I drop my cloak by yon stunted oak,

Do ye ply the lash and spurs,

And there ’ll be no one see another sun

Of the popish worshippers!”

[p 15]
]
He has gone to the crest by the dwarfèd tree,

He has crept on foot and hand,

And now with a wave his cloak drops he

As a sign to the waiting band.