Читать книгу Scott's Lady of the Lake - Walter Scott - Страница 5

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The stag at eve had drunk his fill,

Where danced the moon on Monan’s[5] rill,

And deep his midnight lair had made

In lone Glenartney’s[6] hazel shade;

But, when the sun his beacon red

Had kindled on Benvoirlich’s[6] head,

The deep-mouth’d bloodhound’s heavy bay

Resounded up the rocky way,

And faint, from farther distance borne,

Were heard the clanging hoof and horn.