And far beyond the Hope Forlorn appal
The bristling ramparts, as with daring proud
They fly to the horrid breach,—tho’ Hell should yawn, uncowed!
XXIV.
Who leads the van? Green Erin’s son, Mac Iar,
Fleet as the roebuck on his native hills;
Dauntless as Brian’s sword, through showering fire,
He boundeth o’er the seabeach rocks and rills,
Impetuous. How his manly figure fills
The eyes of thousands! How his dancing plume