III.
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distant trampling sound he hears;He looks abroad, and soon appearsO’er Horncliff Hill a plump of spears,Beneath a pennon gay;A horseman, darting from the crowd,Like lightning from a summer cloud,Spurs on his mettled courser proud,Before the dark array.Beneath the sable palisadeThat closed the castle barricade,His bugle-horn he blew;The warder hasted from the wall,And warned the captain in the hall,For well the blast he knew;And joyfully that knight did call,To sewer, squire, and seneschal.
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