The royal bolt were fiercest sped.

For thee, who, at thy King’s command,

Canst aid him with a gallant band,

Submission, homage, humbled pride,

Shall turn the monarch’s wrath aside.

Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart,[150]

Ellen and I will seek, apart,

The refuge of some forest cell,

There, like the hunted quarry, dwell,

Till on the mountain and the moor,