And thrill’d in Blanche’s faded breast.—
Murdoch of Alpine! prove thy speed,
For ne’er had Alpine’s son such need!
With heart of fire, and foot of wind,
The fierce avenger is behind!
Fate judges of the rapid strife—
The forfeit[268] death—the prize is life!
Thy kindred ambush lies before,
Close couch’d upon the heathery moor;