The clattering hoofs of a steed of war.
She sprang to her feet; she clomb the Scar;
And watch'd for the galloping steed of war,
As the sound came near both loud and clear
From the wood lying under the evening star.
Lo, to the tarn a horseman sped;
Pale was his face and his eyes were dead;
He lifted his spear as he gallop'd anear,
And on and on the phantom fled!
O wildly cried the lorn ladye,