And in yon wither' d bracken's lair, 

 Slumbered the wolf and shaggy bear ; 

 Once on that lone and trackless sod 

 High chiefs and mail-clad warriors trod, 

 And where the roe her bed has made, 

 Their last bright arms the vanquish' d laid. 



The days of old have passed away 

 Like leaves iipon the torrent grey, 

 And all their dreams of joy and woe, 

 As in yon eddy melts the snow ; 

 And soon as far and dim behind, 

 We too shall vanish on the wind. 



Lays of the Deer Forest. 



