To ruin sink my father's halls,

The portion of my ancestry;

O'erthrown and unavenged, the walls

In earth's deep bosom buried lie.

O'er fields, where once in happier tide

My jocund bugle horn I blew,

The savage foemen fiercely ride:

A noble quarry they pursue.

I am their game, the quarry chased;

The slot-hound follows where he flies,