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Glenara came first with the mourners and shroud; Her kinsmen they follow'd, but mourn'd not aloud: Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around: They march'd all in silence they look'd on the
In silence they reach'd over mountain and moor,
hoar: Now here let us place the grey stone of her cairn : • Why speak ye no word !'-said Glenara the stern.
• And tell me, I charge you! ye clan of my spouse, •Why fold ye your mantles, why cloud ye your
brows ' So spake the rude chieftain :-no answer is made, But each mantle unfolding a dagger display'd.
“I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her shroud, Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and
loud; • And empty that shroud, and that coffin did seem: "Glenara! Glenara ! now read me my dream!"
O! pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween, When the shroud was unclos'd, and no lady was seen; When a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder in scorn, 'Twas the youth who had lov'd the fair Ellen of Lorn:
*I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her grief,
On a rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem;
In dust, low the traitor has knelt to the ground,
BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.
Of Nelson and the North,
Led them on.
Like leviathans afloat,
But the might of England flush'd
O'er the deadly space between.