Scott's Lady of the Lake

by Walter Scott

Cause of the din, a naked blade

Dropp’d from the sheath, that careless flung,

Upon a stag’s huge antlers swung;

For all around, the walls to grace,

Hung trophies of the fight or chase:

A target[66] there, a bugle here,

A battle-ax, a hunting spear,

And broadswords, bows, and arrows store,

With the tusk’d trophies of the boar.

Here grins the wolf as when he died,