Douglas leaned above the well;
Heather banks around him rose;
Bright and warm the sunshine fell
On that spot of sweet repose.
With the blue heaven bending o'er
And the soft wind singing by,
And the clear stream evermore
On the shady side reclined
He watched its waters play,
And sound and sight had well combined
To banish gloom away.
A voice spoke near. 'She'll come,' it said,
And, Douglas! thou shalt be
My love, altho' the very dead
Should rise to rival thee!
'Now only let thine arm be true,
And nerved, like mine, to kill;
And Gondal's royal race shall rue
This day on Elmor Hill!!!'
They wait not long, the rustling heath
Betrays their royal foe;
With hurried step and panting breath,
And cheek almost as white as death,
Augusta sprang below.