 | Dunluce Castle, A Poem |  |
I.
But on their still and cautious pathMcDonnel and his clan had sped;
The clamour-raising winds of Wrath
Conspir'd to lull their tread:
Through every well-known subtle clue
The Scot his silent followers drew:
Through vaults whose striking damp obscure
No human sense might long endure:
Where not a sentry kept his vigil,
And Secrecy had hid her sigil.
Is Friendship then indeed the guide
That lights him on with honest smiles?
54
His stolen path through gloomy aisles?
And doth not Welcome ever wait
To greet McDonnel at the gate?
O sleepers in the evil hour,
Ye rest without the dream of fear!
And is there not a guardian power,
To thunder in your slumbering ear;
The shades of Death around you lour;
The knife of Murder stealeth near!
All muffled for the mortal stroke,
Beneath McDonnel's treacherous cloak!
| Dunluce Castle, A Poem | |