XXIII.

Within a windowed niche of that high hall

Sate Brunswick's fated Chieftain; he did hear[291]

That sound the first amidst the festival,

And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear;

And when they smiled because he deemed it near,

His heart more truly knew that peal too well

Which stretched his father on a bloody bier,

And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell;

He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell.

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