Around the room his gaze uncertain strayed,
Till on the chamber-door where Clara staid
It rested for a moment—in his heart
Some half-forbidden purpose seemed to start;
But in that moment, when suspended strife
Gave time for thoughts to rise of death and life,
Stepped from the opposing ranks Gleneden’s chief,
And thus in haughty tones demanded brief:
“Now, Gilbert, yield; thy short success is past,
Thy king compels thy rebel knee at last.