As e’er they heard of bands[271] at Doune?
Like bloodhounds now they search me out,—
Hark, to the whistle and the shout!—
If farther through the wilds I go,
I only fall upon the foe:
I’ll couch me here till evening gray,
Then darkling try my dangerous way.”
XXIX.
The shades of eve come slowly down,
The woods are wrapt in deeper brown,