As he backward leaped, there flew
Moonlight down the sword he drew.
In his front the lonely man
Saw approach the hostile van:
Near him on the moor a tarn;
On a knoll a wattled barn.
Refuge bad, yet near its door
Sank the hot pursuit's uproar.
For, unsheathed his battle brand,
There they saw great Colin stand.
Dauntless cried he: "Here within
Rest I, then to Ederlinn!"
Yelled the circling hounds in ire,
Set the woven wall on fire.
Sword in hand he stood, the light
Gleaming on his limbs of might,
Like a cloud-built column high,
Red, in sunset's flaming sky.
All too hot for mortal frame
Glowed his armour, wrapped in flame.