The stag at eve had drunk his fill,
Where danced the moon on Monan’s[5] rill,
And deep his midnight lair had made
In lone Glenartney’s[6] hazel shade;
But, when the sun his beacon red
Had kindled on Benvoirlich’s[6] head,
The deep-mouth’d bloodhound’s heavy bay
Resounded up the rocky way,
And faint, from farther distance borne,
Were heard the clanging hoof and horn.