The falcon, from her cairn on high,
Cast on the rout[13] a wondering eye,
Till far beyond her piercing ken[14]
The hurricane had swept the glen.
Faint, and more faint, its failing din
Return’d from cavern, cliff, and linn,[15]
And silence settled, wide and still,
On the lone wood and mighty hill.
IV.
Less loud the sounds of silvan war