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 variquish'd laid. 



The days of old have passed away 

 Like leaves upon the torrent grey, 

 And all their dreams of joy and woe, 

 As in yon eddy melts the sdow ; 

 And soon as far and dim behind, 

 We too shall vanish on the wind. 



Lays of the Deer Forest. 



