From “The Lady of the Lake,” Canto II.
  LOUD a hundred clansmen raise
  Their voices in their chieftain’s praise.
  Each boatman, bending to his oar,
  With measured sweep the burthen bore,
  In such wild cadence, as the breeze
  Makes through December’s leafless trees.
  The chorus first could Allen know,
  “Roderigh Vich Alpine...