>'•. 
 
 
 ^ • '4 
 
 ■> ' 
 
Wh W^Att tit ih Ei^h. 
 
 WITH NOTES. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 ^'^^V^ 
 
 TORONTO: 
 
 W. WARWICK, WELLINGTON STREET EAST. 
 
 1876, 
 

 S3oS 
 
 ft/ 
 ■JVi 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 Harp of the North ! that mouldering long hast hung, 
 
 On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's Spring, 
 And down the fitful hreeze thy numbers flung, 
 
 Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 
 Muffling with verdant ringlet every string — 
 
 minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep t 
 Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring, 
 
 Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep, 
 Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep t 
 
 Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, 
 
 Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, 
 When lay of hopeless love, or glory won, 
 
 Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud* 
 At each according pause, was heard aloud 
 
 Thine ardent symphony sublime and high I 
 Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bow'd: 
 
 For still the burden of thy minstrelsy 
 Was Knighthood's dauntless deed, and Beauty's 
 matchless eye. 
 
 wake once m«re ! how rude soe'er the hand 
 That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray ; 
 
 wake once more ! the' scarce my skill command 
 Some feeble echoimx of thine earlier lay : 
 
THB LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO U 
 
 Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, 
 And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 
 
 Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 
 The wizard note has not been tonch'd in vain, 
 
 Then silent be no more ! Enchantress, wake again ! 
 
 I. 
 
 The Stag at eve had drunk its fill. 
 
 Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, 
 
 And deep his midnight lair had made 
 
 In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; 
 
 But, when the sun his beacon red M 
 
 Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, 
 
 The deep-mouthed blood-hound's heavy bay 
 
 l^osounded up the rocky way, 
 
 And faint, from farther distance borne, 
 
 Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. 10 
 
 n. 
 
 /As chief who hears his warder call, 
 **To arms ! the foemen stor^i the wall," — 
 The antler'd monarch of the waste 
 Sprang from his heathery couch in haste ; 
 But, ere his fleet career he took, 15 
 
 The dew-drops from his flanks he shook; 
 Like crested leader proud and high, 
 Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky ; 
 A moment gazed adown the dale, 
 A moment snuffed the tainted gale, 20 
 
 A moment list'ned to the cry, 
 That thickened as the chase drew nigh ; 
 Then, as the headmost foes appeared. 
 With one brave bound the copse he cleared, 
 And, stretching forward free and far, 25 
 
 Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 
 
 m. 
 
 Yelled on the view the opening pack, 
 Book, glen, and cavern paid them back; 
 
CANTO T.] THE CHASE. S 
 
 « 
 To many a minj^locl sound at once 
 The awakened mountain gave response. 
 A hundred dogs bayed deep and strong, 80 
 
 Clattered a hundred steeds along, 
 Their peal the merry horns rung out, 
 A hundred voices joined the shout ; 
 With hark, and whoop, and wild halloo, 
 No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. 80 
 
 Far from the tumult tied tlie roe, 
 Close in her covert cowered the doe, 
 The falcon, from her cairn on high, 
 Cast on the rout a wondering eye, 
 Till far beyond her piercing ken 40 
 
 The hurricane had swept the glen. 
 Faint, and more faint, its failing din 
 Returned from cavern, cliff, and linn, 
 And silence settled, wide and still, 
 On the lone wood and mighty hill* §B 
 
 IV. 
 
 Tjgss loud the sounds of sylvan war 
 
 Disturb'd the heights of Uam-Var, 
 
 And roused the cavern, where, 'tis to!d 
 
 A giant made his den of old ; 
 
 For ere that steep ascent was won, 00 
 
 High in his pathway hung the sun, 
 
 And many a gallant, stayed perforce. 
 
 Was fain to breathe his faltering horse ; 
 
 And of the trackers of the deer 
 
 Scarce half the lessening pack was near ; 85 
 
 So shrewdly on the mountain side. 
 
 Had the bold burst their metal tried. 
 
 The noble stag was pausing now , 
 
 Upon the mountain's southern brow, 
 
 Where broad extended far beneath, ^ 
 
 The varied realms of fair Menteith. 
 
 With anxious eye he wander'd o'er 
 
 Mountain and meadow, moss and moor, 
 
THK LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO I. 
 
 And pondered refuge from his toil, 
 
 By far Lochard or Aberfoyle. 06 
 
 But nearer was the copse- wood gray, 
 
 That waved and wept on Loch-Achray. 
 
 And mingled with the pine-trees blue 
 
 On the bold cliffs of Ben-venue. 
 
 Fresh vigour with the hope returned, |# 
 
 With flying foot the heath he spumed, 
 
 Held westward with unwearied race. 
 
 And left behind the panting chase. 
 
 VI. 
 
 •Twere long to tell what steeds gave o'er, 
 
 As swept the hunt through Cambus-more ; ff§ 
 
 What reins were tightened in despair, 
 
 When rose Benledi's ridge in air ; 
 
 Who flagged upon Bochastle's heath, 
 
 Who shunned to stem the flooded Teith, — 
 
 for twice, that day, from shore to shore, 80 
 
 The gallant Stag swam stoutly o'er. 
 
 Few were the stragglers, following far. 
 
 That reached the lake of Vennachar ; 
 
 And when the Brigg of Turk was won. 
 
 The headmost Horseman rode alone. 
 
 vn. 
 
 Alone, but with unbated zeal, 
 
 That horseman plied the scourge and steel ; 
 
 For, jaded now, and spent with toil, 
 
 Embossed with foam, and dark with soil. 
 
 While every gasp with sobs he dr^w. 
 
 The labouring Stag, strained full in view. 
 
 Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, 
 
 Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed. 
 
 Fast on his flying traces came. 
 
 And all but won that desperate game ; 95 
 
 For, scarce a spear's length fi-om its haunch 
 
 Vindictive toiled the blood-hounds stanch; 
 
 Nor nearer might the dogs attain. 
 
 Nor further might the quarry strain. 
 
CANTO I.] THE CHASB. 5 
 
 * 
 
 Thus up the margin of the lake. 100 
 
 Between the precipice and brake, 
 
 O'er stock and rock their race they tako. 
 
 vm. 
 
 The hunter marked that mountain high, 
 
 The lone lake's western boundary, 
 
 And deemed the Stag must turn to bay, 105 
 
 Where that huge rampart barred the way ; 
 
 Already glorying in the prize, 
 
 Measured his antlers with his eyes ; 
 
 For the death-wound, and death-haUoo, 
 
 Mustered his breath, his whinyard^drew ; 110 
 
 But thundering as be came prepared, 
 
 With ready arm anc weapon bared, 
 
 The wily quarry shunned the shock, 
 
 And turned him from the opposing rock ; 
 
 Then, dashing down a darksome glen, 115 
 
 Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, 
 
 In the deep Trosach's wildest nook 
 
 His solitary refuge took. 
 
 There, while close couched, the thicket shod 
 
 Cold dews and wild-flowers on his head, 120 
 
 He heard the baffled dogs in vain 
 
 Rave through the hollow pass amain, 
 
 Chiding the rocks that yelled again. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Close on the hounds the hunter came. 
 
 To cheer them on the vanished game ; 125 
 
 But, stumbling in the rugged dell. 
 
 The gallant horse exhausted fell; 
 
 The impatient rider strove in vain 
 
 To rouse him with the spur and rein, 
 
 For the good steed, his labours o'er, ISO 
 
 Stretched his stiff limbs to rise no more ; 
 
 Then, touched with pity and remorse. 
 
 He sorrowed o'er the expiring horse. 
 
 *' I little thought, when first thy rein 
 
 I slacked upon the banks of Seine, 18(^ 
 
I'HE LADY OF THE LAKE. | CANTO I. 
 
 That highland eagle e'er should feed 
 On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! 
 Woe Worth the chiiso, woe W(jitli the c'uiy 
 That cost thy Ufe, my gallant gray ! "— 
 
 X. 
 
 Then through the doll his horn resounds, 1-10 
 
 From vain pursuit to call the hounds, 
 
 l>ack Hmped, xnth slow and crippled pace 
 
 The sulky leaders of the chase ; 
 
 Close to their master's side they pressed, 
 
 With drooping tail and humbled crest ; 145 
 
 But still the dingle's hollow throat 
 
 Prolonged the swelling bugle-note. 
 
 The owlets started from their dreu-m, 
 
 The eagles answered with their scream, 
 
 liound and around the sounds were cast 150 
 
 Till echo seemed an answering blast ; 
 
 And on the hunter hied his way, 
 
 To join some comrades of the day ; 
 
 Yet often paused, so strange the road, 
 
 So wondrous were the scenes it show'd. 155 
 
 ■■ XI. '^ 
 
 The western waves of ebbing day 
 
 lioll'd o'er the glen their level way ; 
 
 Each purple peak, each flinty spire, 
 
 Was bathed in floods of living fire. 
 
 But not a setting beam could glow ICO 
 
 Within the dark ravines below. 
 
 Where twin'd the path, in shadow hid. 
 
 Hound many a rocky pyramid, . ' - 
 
 Shooting abruptly from the dell 
 
 Its thunder-sphntered pinnacle ; . 165 
 
 Hound many an insulated mass, 
 
 The native bulwarks of the pass, 
 
 Huge as the tower which builders vain 
 
 Pi-esumptuous piled on Shinar's plain^ 
 
 The rocky summits, split and rent, 170 
 
 iormed tmret, dome, or battiemeut, 
 
CANTO I.J THE CHASB. ¥ 
 
 • 
 
 Or seemed fantasticaiiy set 
 
 With cupola or minaret, 
 
 Wild crests as pagod ever decked, 
 
 Or mosque of eastern architect. ; 175 
 
 Nor were these earth-born castles bare, . 
 
 Nor lacked they many a banner fair ; 
 
 For, from their shivered brows displayed. 
 
 Far o'er the unfathomable glade, 
 
 All twinkhng with the dew drop sheen, 180 
 
 The briar-rose fell in streamers green, 
 
 And creeping shrubs of thousand dyes. 
 
 Waved in the west wind's summer sighB. 
 
 xn. * 
 
 Boon nature scattered, free and wild, 
 Each plant or flower, the mountain's child 165 
 Here eglantine embalmed the air, 
 Hawthorn and hazel mingled there ; 
 The primrose pale, and violet flower. 
 Found in each cliff a narrow bower ; 
 Foxglove and nightshade, side by side, 190 
 
 Emblems of punishment and pride, 
 Grouped their dark hues with every stain 
 'The weather-beaten crags retain. 
 With boughs that quaked at every breath, 
 Gray birch and aspen wept beneath ; 195 
 
 Aloft, the ash and warrior oak 
 Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; 
 And higher yet the pme-troe hung 
 His shatter'd trunk, and frequent flung, 
 Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high, 200 
 
 His bows athwart the narrowed sky. 
 Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, 
 Where glistening streamers waved and danctd, 
 The wanderer's eye could barely view 
 The summer heaven's delicious blue ; 205 
 
 So wondrous wild, the whole might seera 
 .The scenery of a fairy dream. 
 
tHE LADY OF THE LAKE. [cANtO 1. 
 
 xin. 
 
 Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep 
 
 A narrow inlet, still and deep, 
 
 Affording scarce such breadth of brim, 210 
 
 As served the wild duck's brood to swim ; 
 
 Lost for a space, through thickets veering, 
 
 But broader when again appearing, 
 
 Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face 
 
 Could on the dark-blue mirror trace : 216 
 
 And farther as the hunter strayed, 
 
 StiU broader sweep its channels made. 
 
 The shaggy mound no longer stood, 
 
 Emerging from entangled wood. 
 
 But, wave-enciicled, seem'd to floaty 220 
 
 Like castle girded with its moat ; 
 
 Yet broader floods extending stiU, 
 
 Divide them from their parent hill. 
 
 Till each, retiring, claims to be . 
 
 An islet in an inland sea. 225 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And now to issue from the glen, 
 No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, 
 Unless he climb, with footing nice, 
 A far protecting precipice. 
 
 The broom's tough roots his ladder made» 230 
 
 The hazel saplings lent their aid ; 
 And thus an airy point he won. 
 Where, gleaming with the setting sun, 
 One burnish'd sheet of living gold, 
 Loch-Katrine lay beneath him rolled ; . 236 
 
 In all her length far winding lay, 
 With promontory, creek, and bay, 
 And islands that, empurpled bright, 
 "jJEipated amid the livelier light ; 
 And mountains, that like giants' stand, 240 
 
 To sentinel enchanted land. 
 High on the south, huge Ben-venue 
 Down to the lake in masses threw 
 Craggs, knolls, and mounds, confusMlv hnrl'd, 
 
OANl'O I.] THE CHASE. J 
 
 The fragments of an earlier world ; 245 
 
 A wildering forest feather'd o'er 
 His ruined sides and summit hoar, 
 While on the north through middle air, 
 Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare. 
 
 XV. 
 
 ' From the steep promontory gazed 250 
 
 The Stranger, raptured and amazed. 
 And, "What a scene were here," he cried, 
 ** For princely pomp or churchman's pride ! 
 On this bold brow, a lordly tower ; 
 In that soft vale, a lady's bower ; 255 
 
 On yonder meadow, far away, 
 The turrets of a cloister gray. 
 How blithely might the bugle-horn 
 Chide, on the lake the lingering mom I 
 How sweet, at eve, the lover's lute 260 
 
 Chime, when the groves were still and mute ! 
 And, when the midnight moon should lave 
 Her forehead in the silver wave,^ 
 How solemn on the ear would come 
 The holy matin's distant hum. 266 
 
 While the deep peal's commanding tone 
 Should wake, in yonder islet lone, 
 A sainted hermit from his cell. 
 To drop a bead with every knell — 
 And bugle, lute, and bell, and all, 270 
 
 Should each bewildered stranger call 
 To friendly feast, and lighted halL J^ 
 
 " Blithe were it then to wander here I \ 
 
 But now, — beshrew yon nimble deer, \ 
 
 Like that same hermit's, thin and spare, \ 276 
 
 The copse must give my evening fare ; ^^ 
 
 Some mossy bank my couch must be, / 
 
 Some rustling oak my canopy. ' 
 
 Yet pass we that ; — the war and chase ' 
 
 Give little choice of resting place ; — ,' 28C 
 
10 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO I. 
 
 A summer night, iu greenwood spent, ■ 
 
 Were but to-morrow's merriment ; > 
 
 But hosts may in these wilds abound, | 
 
 Such as are better missed than found ; f 
 
 To meet with higliland plunderers here 286 [ 
 
 Were worse than loss of steed or deer. — 
 
 I am alone ; — my bugle strain 
 
 May call some straggler of the train ; 
 
 Or, fall the worst that may betide, 
 
 Ere now this falchion has been tried." 290 
 
 XVII. 
 
 But scarce again his horn he wound, 
 
 When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 
 
 From underneath an aged oak. 
 
 That slanted from the islet rock, 
 
 A Damsel guider of its way, 295 
 
 A httle skiff shot to the bay, 
 
 That round the promontory steep. 
 
 Led its deep line in graceful sweep, 
 
 Eddying, in almost viewless wave. 
 
 The weeping willow twig to lave, 300 
 
 And kiss, with whispering sound and slow, 
 
 The beach of pebbles bright as snow. 
 
 The boat had touched this silver strand, 
 
 Just as the Hunter left his stand, 
 
 And stood concealed amid the brake, 805 
 
 To view this Lady o( the Lake. 
 
 The maiden paused, as if again 
 
 She thought to catch the distant strain, 
 
 With head up-raised, and look intent. 
 
 And eye and ear attentive bent, 310 
 
 And looks flung back, and lips a^art. 
 
 Like monument of Grecian art. 
 
 In hstening mood, she seemed to stand 
 
 This guardian Naiad of the strand. 
 
 And ne*er did Grecian chisel trace 815 
 
 A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, 
 
CANTO I.] THE CHASE. 11 
 
 * 
 
 Of finer form, or lovelier face ! 
 
 What thougli tlie sun, with ardent frown 
 
 Had slightiy tinged her cheek with brown, — 
 
 The sportive toil, wnich, short and light, 820 
 
 Had dyed her glowing hue so bright. 
 
 Served too in hastier swell to show 
 
 Short glimpses of a breast of snow : 
 
 What though no rule of courtly grace 
 
 To measured mood had trained her pace, — 3'25 
 
 A foot more light, a step more true. 
 
 Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew ; 
 
 E'en the slight harebell raised its head, 
 
 Elastic from her airy tread: 
 
 What though upon her speech there hun;^ 330 
 
 The accents of the mountain tongue,— 
 
 Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear. 
 
 The list'nei' held his breath to hear. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid ; 
 Her satin snood, her silken plaid, S36 
 
 Her golden brooch, such birth betray'd : 
 And seldom was a snood amid 
 Such wild iuxui'iant ringlets hid. 
 Whose glossy black to shame might bring 
 The plumage of the raven's wing ; 340 
 
 And seldom o'er a breast so fair. 
 Mantled a plaid with modest care ; 
 And never brooch the folds combined 
 Above a heart more good and kind ; 
 Her kindness and her worth to spy, 34£' 
 
 You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; 
 Not Katrine, in her mirror blue, 
 Gives back the shaggy banks more true, 
 . ^^ Than every free-born glance confessed 
 -* rpijQ guileless movements of her breast ; 350 
 
 Whether joy danced in her dark eye, 
 Or woe or pity claimed a sigh. 
 Or filial love was glowing there, V ' \ 
 
 Or meek devotion poured a prayer, . ^— 
 Or tale of injury called forth 85i 
 
12 THE LADY OF TUE LAKE. j^CANTO I. 
 
 The indignant spirit of tlie north. 
 
 Ont only passion, unrevealed, 
 
 With maiden pride the maid concealed, 
 
 Yet not less purely felt the flame ; — 
 
 need I tell that passion's name ! 86C 
 
 XX. 
 
 Impatient of the silent horn, 
 
 Now on the gale her voice was borne : — 
 
 " Father !" she cried ; the rocks around 
 
 Loved to prolong the gentle sound. 
 
 A while she paused, no answer came, — 36^» 
 
 " Malcolm, was thine the blast ?" the name 
 
 Less resolutely uttered fell, 
 
 The echoes could not catch the swell. 
 
 '* A stranger I," the Huntsman said, ^ 
 
 Advancing from the hazel shade. 370 
 
 The maid, alarmed, with hasty oar. 
 
 Pushed her light shallop from the shore. 
 
 And when a space was gained between, 
 
 Closer she drew her bosom's screen : 
 
 (So forth the startled swan would swing, 875 
 
 So turn to prune his ruffled wing,) 
 
 Then safe, though fluttered and amazed. 
 
 She paused, and on the stranger gazed. 
 
 Not his the form, nor his the eye. 
 
 That youthful maidens wont to fly. 880 
 
 XXI. 
 
 On his bold visage, middle age 
 
 Had slightly pressed its signet sage, , 
 
 Yet had not quenched the open truth 
 
 And fiery vehemence of youth; ^ 
 
 Forward and frolic glee was there, , '. 885 
 
 The will to do, the soul to dare, .' > 
 
 The sparkhng glance, soon blown to fire, 
 
 Of hasty love, or headlong ire ; 
 
 His Umbs were cast in manly mould, ': ' 
 For hardy sports, or contest bold ; :^; 890. 
 
 And though in peaceful garb arrayed, 
 
CANTO I.] THE CHASE. 18 
 
 And weaponless, except his blade, 
 
 His stately mien as well implied 
 
 A high-born heart, a martial pride. 
 
 As if a baron's crest he wore, 895 
 
 And, sheathed in armour, tiod the shore, 
 
 SHghting the petty need he showed, y^ 
 
 He told of his benighted road ; ^^^ 
 
 His ready speech flowed fair and free, 
 
 In phrase of gentle courtesy ; 400 
 
 Yet seem'd that tono, and gesture blan.l, 
 
 Less use to sue than to command. 
 
 xxn. 
 
 Awhile the maid the Stranger eyed, 
 And, re-assured, at last replied, 
 That highland homes were open still 410 
 
 To wildered wanderers of the hill. 
 ** Nor think you unexpected come 
 To yon lone isle, our desert home ; 
 Before the heath had lost the dew, 
 This morn, a couch was pulled for you : 415 
 
 On yonder mountain's purple head 
 Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bred, 
 And our broad nets have swept the mere. 
 To furnish forth your evening cheer." — 
 " Now, by the rood, my lovely maid, 420 
 
 Your courtesy has erred," he said; 
 " No right have I to claim, misplaced, 
 The welcome of expected guest ; 
 A wanderer here, by fortune tost. 
 My way, my friends, my courser, lost ; ,• 425 
 
 I ne'er before, beheve me, fair. 
 Have ever drawn your mountain air, 
 Till on this lake's romantic strand, 
 found a fay in fairy land." — , •. . 
 
 -. - -~-]^_:j::_ .-^ xxin. 
 
 *' I well believe," the maid replied, 490 
 
 As her light skiff approached the side, 
 ♦' I well believe that ne'er before 
 
14 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANtO I» 
 
 Your loot has trod Loch-Katrine's shore ; 
 
 Bat yet, as far as yesternight, 
 
 Old Allan-bane foretold your plight,-- 436 
 
 A gray-haired sii'e, whose eye intent 
 
 Was on the visioned future bent, 
 
 He saw your steed, a dappled grny, 
 
 Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; 
 
 Painted exact your form and mien, 440 
 
 Your hunting suit of Lincoln green • 
 
 That tassell'd horn so gaily gilt. 
 
 That falchion's crooked blade and hiU, 
 
 That cap with heron's plumage trim. 
 
 And yon two hounds so dark and grim. 446 
 
 He bade that all shoult? ready be, 
 
 To trace a guest of fair degree : 
 
 Bat light I held his prophecy. 
 
 And deemed it was my father's horn, 
 
 Whose echoes o'er the lake were borne,'* — 450 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The Stranger smiled : — " Since to your homo, 
 
 A destined errant knight I come. 
 
 Announced by prophet sooth and old. 
 
 Doomed, doubtless, for achievements bold, 
 
 I'll rightly front each high emprize, 455 
 
 For one kind glance of those bright eyes ; 
 
 Permit me, first, the task to guide 
 
 Your fairy frigate o'er the tide." 
 
 The maid with smile suppressed and sly, 
 
 The toil unwonted saw him try ; 460 
 
 For seldom, suro, if e'er before. 
 
 His noble hand had grasped an oar ; 
 
 Yc>t with main strength his strokes he diew> 
 
 And o'er the lake the shallop flew ; 
 
 With heads erect, and whimpering cry, 465 
 
 The hounds behind their passage ply ; 
 
 Nor frequent does the bright oar break 
 
 The darkening mirror of the lake, 
 
 Until the rocky isle they reach, -^ 
 
 And moor their shallop on the beach, 470 
 
OANTO I.] tHE CHASfi. 15 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The stranger viewed the shore around ; 
 
 'Twas all so close with copsewood bound, 
 
 Nor track nor pathway might declare 
 
 That human foot frequented there, 
 
 Until the mountain-maiden showed 476 
 
 A clambering unsuspected road. 
 
 That winded through the tangled screen. 
 
 And opened on a narrow green, 
 
 Where weeping birch and willow round, 
 
 With their long fibres swept the ground : 480 
 
 Here, for retreat in dangerous hour, 
 
 Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 It was a lodge of ample size, 
 But strange of structure and device ; 
 Of such materials, as around 485 
 
 The workman's hand had readiest found ; 
 Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared. 
 And by the hatchet rudely squared, ^ - ^ . 
 
 To give the walls their destined height ' 
 The sturdy oak and ash unite ; 490 
 
 While moss and clay and leaves combined 
 To fence each crevice from the wind ; 
 The lighter pine-trees, over-head, 
 Their slender length for rafters spread, ^^ 
 And withered heath and rushes dry , "' 495 
 
 Supplied a russet canopy. ' 
 
 Due westward fronting to the green, 
 A rural portico was seen. 
 Aloft on native pillars borne, 
 • Of mountain fir with bark unshorn, 600 
 
 Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine 
 The ivy and Idaean vine, 
 The clematis, the favoured flower, 
 Which boasts the name of virgin-bower, 
 And every hardy plant could bear 610 
 
 Loch-Katrine's keen and searching air. 
 An instant in this porch she staid, 
 
15 THF LADY OF THB LAKE. [CANTO I. 
 
 And gaily to the Stranger said. 
 
 *' On heaven and on thy lady call, 
 
 And enter the enchanted hall !" — W.6 
 
 xxvn. 
 
 My hope, my heaven, my trust, must bo, 
 
 My gentle guide, in following thee." — 
 
 He crossed the threshold — and a clang 
 
 Of angry steel that instant rang. 
 
 To his bold brow his spirit rushed, 620 
 
 But soon for vain alarm he blushed, 
 
 When on the floor he saw displayed, 
 
 Cause of the din, a naked blade. 
 
 Dropped from the sheath, that careless flung, 
 
 Upon a stag's huge antler's swung ; 626 
 
 For all around, the walls to grace. 
 
 Hung trophies of the fight or chase ; 
 
 A target there, a bugle here, 
 
 A battle-axe, a hunting spear, - 
 
 And broadswords, bows, and arrows store, 630 
 
 With the tusked trophies of the boar. 
 
 Here grins the wolf as when he died. 
 
 And there the wild-cat's brindled hide ; 
 
 The frontlet of the elk adorns. 
 
 Or mantles o'er the bison's horns ; - 635 
 
 Pennons and flags defaced and stained. 
 
 That blackening streaks of blood retained 
 
 And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and white, 
 
 With otter's fur and seal's unite, 
 
 In rude and uncouth tap'stry all, 640 
 
 To garnish forth the svlvan hall, 
 
 xxvm. 
 
 Tlie wondering Stranger round him gazed, 
 
 And next the fallen weapon raised ; - 
 
 Few were the arms whose sinewy strength 
 
 Sufi&ced to stretch it forth at length ; ' 645 
 
 And as the brand he poised and swayed, 
 
 ** I never knew but one," he said, 
 
 " \Mio8e stalwart arm might brook to wield 
 
CANTO i.J TttE CHASE. 17 
 
 A blade like this in battle field.'* 
 
 She sighed, then smiled and took the word ; 550 
 
 "You see the gnardian champion's sword: 
 
 As light it trembles in his hand, 
 
 As in my grasp a hazel wand ; 
 
 My sire's tall form might grace the part 
 
 Of Ferragns or Ascabart ; 6&i 
 
 But in the absent giant's hold 
 
 Are women now, and menials old.'* 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The mistress of the mansion came, 
 Mature of age, a graceful dame ; 
 "Whose easy step and stately port > 660 
 
 Had well become a princely court, 
 To whom, though more than kindred knew 
 Young Ellen gave a mother's due ; 
 Meet welcome to her guest she made, 
 * And every courteous rite was paid, 6C6 
 
 That hospitality could claim. 
 Though all unasked his birth and name. 
 Such then the reverence to a guest, ^ 
 That fellest foe might join the feast. 
 And from his deadliest foeman's door, 670 
 
 Unquestion'd turn, the banquet o'er. 
 At length his rank the Stranger names, 
 " The knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz-James, 
 Lord of a barren heritage, 
 
 \Vhich hig brave sires, from age to age, 675 
 
 By their good swords had held with toil ; ' 
 His sire had fall'n in such turmoil. 
 And he, God wot, was forced to stand j 
 Oft for his right with blade in hand. 
 This morning with Lord Moray's train 680 
 
 He chased a stalwart stag in vain. 
 Outstripped his comrades, missed the deer, 
 Lost his good steed, and wandered here." — 
 
is THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [OANTO i. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Fain would the Kniglit in turn reqniro 
 
 The name and state of Ellen's sire ; 586 
 
 Well shewed the elder lady's mien, 
 
 That courts and cities she had seen ; 
 
 Ellen, though more her looks displayed 
 
 The simple grace of sylvan maid, 
 
 In speech and gesture, form and face, 690 
 
 Shewed she was come of gentle race ; 
 
 'Twere strange in ruder rank to find 
 
 Such looks, such manners, and such mind: 
 
 Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave, 
 
 Dame Margaret heard with silence grave ; 695 
 
 Or Ellen, innocently gay. 
 
 Turned all enquiry light away :- 
 
 *' Weird women we ! by dale and down, 
 
 We dwell afar from tower and town • 
 
 We stem the flood, we ride the blast, 600 
 
 On wandering knights our spells we cast ; 
 
 While viewless minstrels touch the string, 
 
 'Tis thus our charmed rhymes we sing." 
 
 She sung, and still a harp unseen 
 
 Filled up the symphony between. 605 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 ** Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er. 
 
 Sleep tlie sleep that knows not breaking ; 
 Dream the battled fields no more, 
 
 Days of danger, nights of waking. 
 In our isle's enchanted hall, 610 
 
 Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, 
 Fairy strains of music fall, 
 
 Every sense in slumber dewing. 
 Soldier, rest ! Thy warfare o'er. 
 Dream of fighting fields no more ; 615 
 
 Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; 
 Mom of toil, nor night of waking. 
 •*No rude sound shall reach thine ear, 
 
CANTO I.J THE CHASE. 19 
 
 Armour's clang, or war-steed cliamping, 
 Trump nor pibroch summon here 620 
 
 Mustering clan, squadron tramping, 
 Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 
 
 At the day-break from the fallow, 
 And the bittern sound his drum, 
 
 Booming from the sedgy shallow. 625 
 
 Ruder sounds shall none be near, 
 Guards nor warders challenge here, 
 Here'fc; no war-steed's neigh and champing, 
 Shouting clans or squadrons stamping." — 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 She paused — then blushing, led the lay 630 
 
 To grace the stranger of the day ; 
 
 Her mellow notes awhile prolong 
 
 The cadence of the flowing song. 
 
 Till to her lips in measured frame 
 
 The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 635 
 
 SONG CONTINUE©. 
 
 ** Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done, 
 
 While our slumbrous spells assail ye. 
 Bream not, with the rising sun, 
 
 Bugles here shall sound the reveille. 
 Sleep ! the deer is in the den ; 6d0 
 
 Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying j 
 Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen, 
 
 How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
 Huntsman rest! thy chase is done. 
 Think not of the rising sun, G45 
 
 For, at dawning to assail ye, 
 Here no bugles sound roY^^ille." — 
 
 xxxm. 
 
 i..iW 
 The hall was cleared — the Stranger's be^ erfT 
 Was there of mountain heather spraa4pii3[ i^X 
 Where oft a hundred gHfistft.h^iaiJ^i'v/? ^^B 650 
 „ And dreamed their fojf skfi|>orifeyai8i|rf; 
 
20 THE I ADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO I. 
 
 But vainly did the Leath-flower shed 
 
 Its moorland fragrance round his head ; ^ 
 
 Not Ellen's spell had lulled to rest 
 
 The fever of his troubled breast ; 655 
 
 In broken dreams the image rose 
 
 Of varied perils, pains, and woes ; 
 
 His steed now flounders in the brake, 
 
 Now sinks his barge upon the lake ; 
 
 Now leader of a broken host, 660 
 
 His standard falls, his honour's lost. 
 
 Then, — from my couch may heavenly might 
 
 Chase that worse phantom of the night ! — 
 
 Again returned the scenes of youth, 
 
 Of confident undoubting truth ; 605 
 
 Again his soul he interchanged 
 
 With friends whose hearts were long estranged ; 
 
 They come, in dim procession led, 
 
 The cold, the faithless, and the dead ; 
 
 As warm each hand, each brow as gay, 670 
 
 As if they parted yesterday ; 
 
 And doubt distracts him at the view, 
 
 were his senses false or true ! 
 
 Dreamed he of death, or broken vow, 
 
 Or is it all a vision now ? 676 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 At length, with Ellen in a grove. 
 
 He seemed to walk, and speak of love ! 
 
 She listened with a blush and bigh, 
 
 His suit was warm, his hopes were high ; 
 
 He sought her yielded hand to clasp, 680 
 
 And a cold gauntlet met his grasp : 
 
 The phantom's sex was changed and gone, 
 
 Upon its head a helmet shone ; 
 
 Slowly enlarged to giant size, 
 - With darkened cheek and threat'nlng eyes 685 
 
 "^T The grisly visage stern and hoar, 
 
 To Ellen still a likeness bore. — ^ ^ 
 
 ~r He wok#|)JWid, panting with affright, '- 
 
 ^^ Recalled tte vision of the night. 
 
 The iiearth»B decaying brands were red, 690 
 
 
CANTO I.] THK CIIASE. il 
 
 And deep and dusky lustre shed, 
 
 Half shewing, half concealing, all 
 
 The uncouth trophies of the hall ; 
 
 Mid those, the Stranger fixed his eye 
 
 Where that huge falchion hung on high, 6r5 
 
 And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng, 
 
 Hushed, chasing countless thoughts along, 
 
 Until, the giddy whirl to cure. 
 
 He rose, and sought the moonshine pure. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The wild rose, eglantine, and broom, 700 
 
 Wasted around their rich perfume ; 
 
 The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm. 
 
 The aspens slept beneath the calm ; 
 
 The silver light, with quivering glance, 
 
 Played on the water's still expanse, — 706 
 
 Wild were the heart whose passion's sway 
 
 Could rage beneath the sober ray I 
 
 He felt its calm, that warrior guest, 
 
 While thus he communed with his breast : 
 
 '* Why is it at each turn I trace 710 
 
 Some memory of that exiled race ? 
 
 Can I not mountain maiden spy. 
 
 But she must bear the Douglas eye ? 
 
 Can I not view a highland brand, 
 
 But it must match the Douglas hand? — 716 
 
 Can I not frame a fevered dream, 
 
 But still the Douglas is the theme ? — 
 
 I'll dream no more — by manly mind 
 
 Not even in sleep is will resigned ; 
 
 My midnight orisons said o'er, 720 
 
 I'll turn to rest and dream no more.'* 
 
 His midnight orison he told, 
 
 A prayer with every bead of gold, 
 
 Consigned to heaven his cares and woes, 
 
 And sunk in undisturbed repose. 725 
 
 Until the heath-cock shrilly crew. 
 
 And morning dawned on Ben-venue. 
 
^% ' ^ l^ 
 
THE LADY OV THE LAKB. [OANTO X« 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Disturbed the heighta of Uam-var, 
 
 Canto 1, Stunza It. 
 
 Ua-var, as the name is pronounced, or more properly, 
 Uaigh-mor, is a mountain to the north-east of the village of 
 GaUender in Menteith, deriving its name, which signifies the 
 great den, or cavern, from a sort of retreat among the rocks 
 on the south side, said, by tradition, to have been the abode 
 of a giant. 
 
 Two dogs of black St. Hubert's breed, 
 Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed. 
 
 Canto 1, Stanza vii 
 
 " These hounds which we call St. Hubert's hounds, are 
 commonly all blacke, yet nevertheless, their race is so min- 
 gled at these days, that we find them of all colours. These 
 are the hounds which the abbotr of St. Hubert have always 
 kept some of their race or kind, in honour or remembrance 
 of the saint, which was a hunter with St. Eustace. Where- 
 upon we may conceive that (by the grace of God) aU good 
 huntsmen shall follow them into paradise." 
 
 For the death-wound and deatli-halloo, 
 Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew. 
 
 Canto 1, Stanza^viii. 
 
 When the stag turned to bay, the ancient hunter had the 
 perilous task of going in upon, and killing or disabling the 
 desperate animal. At certain times of the year this was 
 held particularly dangerous, a wound received from a stag's 
 horns being then deemed poisonous, and more dangerous 
 than one from the tusks of a boar. 
 
 And now to issvs from the glen. 
 
 Canto 1, Stanza zi"^ 
 
 Until the present road was made through the romantic 
 pass which I have presumptuously attempted to describe in 
 the preceding stanzas, there was no mode of issuing out of 
 the defile called the Trosachs, excepting by a sort of ladder 
 composed of the branches and roota At trees. 
 
CANTO I.] WOTES. 
 
 To meet with Highland plv/nderen here, 
 Were worse than loss 0/ steed or deer. 
 
 Canto 1, Stanza xvl. 
 
 The clans who inhabited the romantic regions in the neif^- 
 bourhood of Loch-Katrine, were, even until a late period, 
 much addicted to predatory excursions upon their lowland 
 neighbours. 
 
 A gray-haired sire, whose eye, iJitent, 
 IVas on the visioned future hent. 
 
 Canto 1, xxiii. 
 
 II force of evidence could authorize us to believe facts in- 
 consistent with the general laws of nature, enough might be 
 produced in favour of the existence of the Second-Sight. It 
 is called in Gaelic Taishitaraugh, from Taish, an unreel or 
 Hhadowy appearance ; and those possessed of this faculty are 
 called Taishatrin, which may aptly be translated visionaries. 
 
 Here, for retreat in dangerous hour, 
 Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 
 
 - Canto 1, Stanza szv. 
 
 The Celtic chieftains, whose lives were continually ex- 
 posed to peril, had usually, in the most retired spot of their 
 doinains, soine place of retreat for the hour of necessity, 
 which, as circumstances would admit, was a tower, a cav-orn, 
 or a rustic hut in a strong and secluded situation. 
 
 My sire's tall form might grace the part 
 OfFerragus or Ascabart. 
 
 Canto 1, Stanza xxviiL 
 
 These two sons of Anak flourished in romantic fable. 
 
 Though all unasTeed his birth or name. 
 
 Canto 1, Stanza xxix. 
 
 The Highlanders, who carried hospitality to a punctilious 
 excess, are said to have considered it as churhsh to ask a 
 stranger his name or lineage, before he had taken refresh- 
 ment. 
 
 And still a harp unseen, 
 
 Filled up the harmony between. 
 
 Canto 1, Stanza XXX. 
 
 How it happened that the noisy and inharmonious bagpipe 
 banished the soft and expressive harp, we cannot say; but 
 certain it is, that the bagpipe is now the only ustrument 
 that obtftins universally in the highland districts. 
 
I 
 
 , 1 ■■ 
 
 ' ^ ^' r"^ "■ 
 
 ^:iiY**{f if^fe 
 
Mh 
 
 8 flf i\u WAt. 
 
 WITH NOTES. 
 
 CANTO IL 
 
 THE ISLAND. 
 
 TOKONTO: 
 
 W. 'VARWICK WELLINGTON STRSET EAST. 
 
 1876. 
 
/ 
 
 / 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 THE IS31i-A.3SriD, 
 
 I. 
 
 At morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing, 
 
 'Tis morning prompts the linnet's blithest lay, 
 All Nature's children feel the matin spring 
 
 Of life reviving with reviving day : 
 And while yon little bark glides down the bay, *l 
 
 Wafting the Stranger on his way again, 
 Mom's genial influence roused a Minstrel giay, 
 
 And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain, 
 Mix'd with the sounding harp, white-haiied Allan* 
 bane I ~ . , 
 
 n. 
 
 soyo. 
 
 "Not faster yonder rowers' might 
 Flings from their oars the spray, 
 
 Not faster yonder rippling bright, 
 
 That tracks the shallop's course in liglxt, 
 Melts in the lake away, 
 
 That men from memory erase 
 
 The benefits of former days ; 
 
 Then, Stranger, go ! good speed the whib. 
 
 Nor think again of the lonely isle. 
 
 '■' High place to thee in royal court, 
 High place in battled line, ; : ^ 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 20 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO 
 
 Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport, 
 When Beauty sees the brave resort, 
 
 The honoured meed be thine ! 
 True be thy sword, thy fri nd sincere. 
 Thy lady constant, kind and dear, 25 
 
 And lost in love's and friendship's smiley 
 Be memory of the lonely isle. 
 
 m. 
 
 BONG CONTINUED. 
 
 ••But if beneath yon southern sky 
 
 A plaided stranger roam. 
 Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh, 80 
 
 And sunken cheek and heavy eye. 
 
 Pine for his highland home ; 
 Then, warrior, then be thine to show, 
 The care that soothes a wanderer's woe ; 
 Remember then thy hap ere while 85 
 
 A stranger in the lonely isle. 
 
 '♦ Or if on life's uncertain main, « 
 
 Mishap shall mar thy sail ; 
 If faithful, wise, and trave in vain, 
 W(^e, want, and exile thou sustain 40 
 
 Beneath the fickle gale ; 
 Waste not a sigh on f<M-tune changed. 
 On thankless courts, or friends estranged, 
 But come where kindred worth shall smile 
 To greet thee in the lonely isle." 45 
 
 IV. 
 
 As died the sounds upon the tide. 
 
 The shallop reached the main-land side. 
 
 And ere his onward way he took, 
 
 The stranger cast a lingering look, 
 
 Where easily his eye might reach 50 
 
 The Harper on the islet beach, 
 
 Reclined against a blighted tree, 
 
CANl'O II.] THE ISLAND. " ( 
 
 As wasted gray, and worn as he. ' 
 
 To minstrel meditation given, 
 
 flis reverend brow was raised to heaven, 55 
 
 .\s from the rising sun to claim 
 
 A sparkle of inspiring flame. 
 
 His hand, reclined upon the wire. 
 
 Seemed watching the awakening fire ; 
 
 So still he sate, as those who wait 60 
 
 Till judgment speak the doom of fate ; 
 
 So still, as if no breeze might dare 
 
 To lift one lock of hoary hair ; 
 
 So still, as life itself were fled, 
 
 In the last sound his harp had sped. 65 
 
 Upon a rock with lichens wild, 
 
 Beside him Ellen sate and smiled ; . ' 
 
 Smiled she to see the stately drake 
 
 Lead forth his fleet upon the lake. 
 
 While her vexed spaniel, from the beecii» 70 
 
 Bayed at the prize beyond his reach ; 
 
 Yet tell me then, the maid who knows. 
 
 Why deepened on her cheek the rose ?— 
 
 Forgive, forgive, Fidelity ! 
 
 Perchance the maiden smiled to see 75 
 
 Yon parting lingerer wave adieu, 
 
 Vnd stop and turn to wave anew ; 
 
 \nd, lovely ladies, ere your ire 
 
 Condemn the heroine of my lyre, 
 
 Shew me the fair would scorn co spy, ' 80 
 
 And prize such conquest of her eye I 
 
 VI. 
 
 While yet he loitered on the spot. 
 
 It seemed as Ellen marked him not : 
 
 But when he turned him to the glade, 
 
 One courteous parting sign she made ; 85 
 
 And after oft the knight would say, 
 
 That not when prize of festal day 
 
THF LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO 11, 
 
 Wm dealt hira by the brightest fair 
 »Vho e're wore jewel in her hair, 
 So highly did his bosom swell, 90 
 
 As at that simple mute farewell. 
 Now with a trusty mountain guide, 
 And his dark stag-hounds by his side, 
 He parts — the maid, unconscious still. 
 Watched him wind slowly round the hill ; 95 
 
 But when his stately form was hid. 
 The guardian in her bosom chid — 
 " My Malcolm ! vain and selfish maid ! " 
 ' Iwas thus upbraiding conscience said, 
 *' Not so had Malcolm idly hung 100 
 
 On t)»e smooth phrase of southern tongue ; 
 Not 80 had Malcolm strained his eye 
 Another step than thine to spy. — 
 •Wake, Allan-bane," aloud she cried, 
 To the old Minstrel by her side, 105 
 
 Arouse thee from thy moody dream I 
 I'll give thy harp heroic theme. 
 And warm thee with a nobler name ; 
 Ponr forth the glory of the Graeme." 
 Scarce from her lip the word had rushed, 110 
 
 When deep the conscious maiden blushed ; 
 For of his clan, in hall and bower, 
 Y'oung Malcelm Graeme was held the flower. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Minstrel waked his harp — three times 
 
 Arose the well-known martial chimes, 115 
 
 And thi'ice their hifda. heroic pride 
 
 In melancholy murmurs died. 
 
 — " Vainly thou bidst, noble maid." 
 
 Clasping his withered hands, he said, 
 
 " Vainly thou bidst me wake the strain, 120 
 
 1'hough all unwont to bid in vain ; 
 
 Alas ! than mine a mightier hand 
 
 Has tuned my harp, my strings has spanned ! 
 
 I touch the cords of joy, but low ^ 
 
 And mournful answer note? of woe ; . • 125 
 
CANTO II.1 THE ISLAND. f 
 
 A.nd the proud march which victors tread, 
 
 Sinks in the wailing for the dead. — 
 
 well for me, if mine alone 
 
 That dirge's deep prophetic tone I 
 
 If, as my tuneful father said, 130 
 
 This harp, which erst Saint Modan swayed, 
 
 Can thus its master's fate foretel. 
 
 Then welcome be the minstrel's knell I 
 
 vm. 
 
 ' • But ah ! dear lady, thus it sighed 
 
 The eve thy sainted mother died ; 
 
 And such the sounds which, while I strove IS 5 
 
 To wake a lay of war or love, 
 
 Came marring all the festal mirth, 
 
 Appalling me who gave them birth. 
 
 And, disobedient to my ciiU, 
 
 Wailed loud through Bothwell's bannered hall, HO 
 
 Ere Douglasses, to ruin driven, 
 
 Were exiled from their native heaven. — 
 
 Oh ! if yet worse mishap and woe 
 
 My master's house must undergo, 
 
 Or aught but weal to Ellen fair, 145 
 
 .T3rood in these accents of despair. 
 
 No future bard, sad haip ! shall fling 
 
 Triumph or rapture from thy string ; 
 
 One short, one final strain shall flow, 
 
 Fraught with unutterable woe, 160 
 
 Then shivered shall thy fragments lie, 
 
 Thy master cast him down and die." — 
 
 IX. 
 
 Soothing she answered him, ♦* Aesuoge, 
 
 Mine honoured friend, the fears of age ; 
 
 A'l melodies to thee are known, 155 
 
 'ihfit harp has rung, or pipe has blown, , 
 
 In lowland vale, or highland glen, 
 
 From Tweed to Spey — what marvel t: n, 
 
 At times, unbidden notes should li.- ,, 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO II. 
 
 Confus'dly bound in memory's tic.«, 1 60 
 
 Entangling as they rush along, 
 The war-march with the funeral song ? — 
 Small ground is now for boding fear ; 
 Obscure but safe, we rest us here. 
 My sire in native virtue great, 165 
 
 Kesigning lordship, lands, and stafo, 
 Not then to fortune more resigned, 
 Than yonder oak might give the wind ; 
 The graceful foliage storms may reave, 
 The noble stem they cannot grieve, 170 
 
 For me,*' — she stooped, and, looking round, 
 Plucked a blue harebell from the ground, 
 ff For me, whose memory scarce conveys 
 An image of more splendid days. 
 This little flower who loves the lea, 175 
 
 May well my simple emblem be ; 
 It drinks heaven's due as blythe as rose 
 That in the king's own garden grows, 
 And when I place it in my hair, 
 Allan, a bard is bound to swear, 180 
 
 He ne'er saw coronet so fair." 
 Then playfully the chaplet wild 
 She wreathed in her dark locks, and smiled. 
 
 X. 
 
 Her smile, her speech, with winning sway, 
 
 Wiled the old harper's mood away ; 135 
 
 With such a look as hermits throw 
 
 When angels stoop to soothe their woe, 
 
 He gazed, till fond regret and pride 
 
 Thrilled to a tear, then thus replied : 
 
 " Loveliest and best ! thou Httle know'st 190 
 
 The rank, the honours thou hast lost I 
 
 might I live to see thee grace, 
 
 In Scotland's court, thy birthright place, 
 
 To see my favourite's step advance, 
 
 The Hghtest in the courtly dance, 195 
 
 The cause of every galLuit's sigh. 
 
 And leading star of every eye, 
 
CANTO II.] THE ISLAND. ^ 
 
 And theme of every minstrers art, 
 The lady of the Bleeding Heart ! "* 
 
 XI. 
 
 "7air dreams are these," the maiden cried, 200 
 
 (Light was her accent, yet she sighed,) 
 
 " Yet is this mossy rock to me 
 
 Worth splendid chair and canopy ; 
 
 Nor would my footstep spring more gay 
 
 In courtly dance than blithe strathspey, 205 
 
 Nor half so pleased mine ear incline 
 
 To royal minstrel's lay as thine ; 
 
 And then for suitors proud and high. 
 
 To bend before my conquering eye, 
 
 Thou, flattering bard ! thyself wilt say, 210 
 
 That grim Su* Roderick owns its sway ; 
 
 The Saxon scourge, Clan-Alpine's pride, 
 
 The terror of Loch-Lomond's side, 
 
 Would, at my suit, thou know'st, delft'' 
 
 A Lennox foray — for a day,"— , 216 
 
 XIL 
 
 The ancient bard his glee repressed : 
 
 •*I11 hast thou chosen theme for jest. 
 
 For who, through all this western wild, 
 
 Named Black Sir Roderick e'er/ and smiled ? 
 
 In Holy-Rood a knight he slew ; 220 
 
 I saw, when back the dirk he drew. 
 
 Courtiers give place before the stride 
 
 Of the undaunted homicide ; 
 
 And since, though outlawed, hath his hand 
 
 Full sternly kept his mountain land. 225 
 
 Who else dared give, — ah ! woe the day, 
 
 That I such hated truth should say — '^ 
 
 The Douglas, like a stricken deer, 
 
 Disowned by every noble peer, * 
 
 Ev'n the rude refuge we have here ? 230 
 
 * The well-known cognizance of the Pouglas family, 
 
10 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO II 
 
 Alas, this wild maranding chief, 
 
 Alone might hazard our relief, 
 
 And now thy maiden charms expand. 
 
 Looks for his guerdon in thy hand ; 
 
 Full soon may dispensation sought, 23o 
 
 To hack his suit, from Rome be brought : 
 
 Then, ttiough an exile on the hill. 
 
 Thy Father, as the Douglas, still 
 
 Be held in reverence and fear ; 
 
 And though to Roderick thou'rt so dear, 240 
 
 Tliat thou might'st guide with silken thread, 
 
 Slave of thy will, this chieftain dread ; 
 
 Yet, loved maid, thy mirth refrain I 
 
 Thy hand is on the Hon'g mane." 
 
 xm. 
 
 " Minstrel," the maid replied, and high 245 
 
 Her father's soul glanced from her eye, 
 ♦' My debts to Roderick's house I know : 
 All that a mother could bestow, 
 To Lady Margaret's care I owe, 
 Since first an orphan in the wild 250 
 
 She sorrowed o'er her sister's child ; 
 To her brave chieftain son, from ire 
 Of Scotland's king who shrouds my sire, 
 A deeper, holier debt is owed ; 
 And, could I pay it with my blood, 255 
 
 Allan, Sir Roderick should command 
 My blood, my life,— but not mv hand, 
 Hather will Ellen Douglas dwell 
 * A votaress in Maronnan's cell ; 
 Rather through realms beyond the i?ca, 260 
 
 Seeking the world's cold charity, 
 \Vhere ne'er was spoke a Scottish word, . 
 And ne'er the name of Douglas heard, 
 An outcast pilgrim will she rove, 
 Tiiftu wed the man she cannot love. 865 
 
OAMtO II.] THE ISLAND. • 11 
 
 XIV. 
 
 •* Thou shak'st, good friend, thy tresses graj,— 
 
 That pleading look, what can it say 
 
 But what I own ? — I grant him brr«-¥«' 
 
 But wild as Bracklinn's thundering wave ; 
 
 And generous — save vindictive mood, 270 
 
 Or jealous transport, chafe his blood j 
 
 I grant him true to friendly band, 
 
 As his claymore is to his hand ; 
 
 But ! that very blade of steel 
 
 More mercy for a foe would feel ; 275 
 
 I grant him liberal, to fling 
 
 Among his clan the wealth they bring, 
 
 When backed by lake and glen they wind, 
 
 And in the Lowland leave behind. 
 
 Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 280 
 
 A mass of ashes slaked with blood. 
 
 The hand that for my father fought, 
 
 I honour, as his daughter ought ; 
 
 But can I clasp it, reeking red, 
 
 From peasants slaughtered in their shed ? 285 
 
 No ! wildly while his virtues gleam, - '- 
 
 They make his passions darker seem, 
 
 And flash along his spirit high, 
 
 Like lightening o'er the midnight sky. 
 
 While yet a child,— and children know, ^ 290 
 
 Instinctive taught, the friend and foe, — - 
 
 I shuddered at his brow of gloom. 
 
 His shadowy plaid, and sable plume ; • - 
 
 A maiden grown, I ill could bear 
 
 His haughty mien and lordly air ; 295 
 
 But, if thou join'st a suitor's claim. 
 
 In serious mood, to Eoderick's name 
 
 I thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er 
 
 A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 
 
 To change such odtous theme were best. — SOO 
 
 What think'st thou of our stranger guest ?"— 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO ll. 
 
 XV. 
 
 •'What think I of him ? — woe the while 
 
 That brought such wanderer to our isle I 
 
 Thy father's battle-brand, of yore 
 
 For Tine-man forged by fairy lore, 305 
 
 What time he leagued, no longer foes, 
 
 His Border spears with Hotspur's bows, 
 
 Did, self-unscabbaided, foreshow ;; 
 
 The footstep of a secret foe. 
 
 If courtley spy, and harboured hero, 310 
 
 What may we for the Douglas fear ? 
 
 What for this island, deemed of old 
 
 Clan-Alpine's last and surest hold ? 
 
 If neither spy nor foe, I pray 
 
 What yet may jealous Roderick say ? 315 
 
 — Nay, wave not thy disdainful head I 
 
 Bethink thee of the discord dread 
 
 That kindled, when at Beltane game 
 
 Thou led'st the dance with Malcolm Graeme. 
 
 Still, through thy sire the peace renewed, 320 
 
 Smoulders in Roderick's breast the feud; 
 
 Beware ! — But hark, what sounds are these? 
 
 My dull ears catch no faltering breeze, -= 
 
 No weeping birch, nor aspens wake, . 
 
 Nor breath is dimpling in the lake, 325 
 
 Still is the canna's* hoary beard. 
 
 Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard — 
 
 And hark again ! some pipe of war 
 
 Sends the bold pibroch from afar." 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Far up the lengthened lake were spied SbO 
 
 Four darkening specks upon the tide, 
 
 That, slow enlarging on the view, ■ 
 
 Four manned and masted barges grew, • ""' " 
 
 And bearing downwards from Glen gyle, 
 
 Steered full upon the lonely isle ; * 835 
 
 • Cotton-grass. 
 
Canto ii.J the island. 18 
 
 The point of Brlanclioil they passed, 
 
 And, to the windward as they cast, 
 
 Against the sun they gave to shine 
 
 The bold Sir Roderick's bannered pine, - 
 
 Nearer and nearer as they bear, 840 
 
 Spears, pikes, and axes flash in air. 
 
 Now might you see the tartans brave, 
 
 And plaids and plumage dance and wave ; 
 
 Now see the bonnets sink und rise, 
 
 As his tough oar the rower plies : 84§ 
 
 See, flashing at each sturdy stroko, 
 
 The wave ascending into smoke ; 
 
 See the proud pipers on the bow. 
 
 And mark the gaudy streamers flow 
 
 From their loud chanters* down, and sweep 350 
 
 The furrowed bosom of the deep, 
 
 As, rushing through the lake amain, ^ 
 
 They plied the ancient highland strain. 
 
 xvn. 
 
 Ever, as on they bore, more loud 
 And louder rung the pibroch proud. 855 
 
 At first the sound, by distance tame, 
 Mellowed along the waters came, t 
 
 And, lingering long by cape and bay, 
 , Wailed every harsher note away; 
 
 Then bursting bolder on the ear, - 860 
 
 The clan's shrill gathering they could hear ; 
 
 Those thrilling sounds, that call the might 
 
 Of old Clan- Alpine to the fight. 
 
 Thick beat the rapid notes, as when 
 
 The mustering hundreds shake the glen, 305 
 
 And, hurrying at the signal dread. 
 
 The battered earth returns their tread, ^^ f ; 
 
 Then prelude light, of liveUer tone, . ; ^ ■ 
 
 Expressed their merry marching on. 
 
 Ere peal of closing battle rose, 370 
 
 * The drone of the bagpipe. 
 
14 frtt ihr>r OT TH« LAKB. [canto II. 
 
 With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows ; 
 
 And mimic din of stroke and ward, 
 
 As broadswords upon target jarred ; i 
 
 And groaning pause, ere yet again, 
 
 Condensed, the battle yelled amain ; S75 
 
 The rapid charge, and rallying shout, 
 
 Eetreat borne headlong into rout, 
 
 And bursts of triumph, to declare 
 
 Clan-Alpine's conquest — all were there. 
 
 Nor ended thus the sti*ain ; but slow, 880 
 
 Sunk in a moan prolonged and low. 
 
 And changed the conquering clarion swell, 
 
 For wild lament o'er those that fell. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The war-pipes ceased ; but lake and hill 
 
 Were busy with their echoes still ; 885 
 
 And, when they slept, a vocal strain 
 
 Bade their hoarse chorus wake again, 
 
 While loud a hundred clansmen raise 
 
 Their voices in their Chieftain's praise. 
 
 Each boatman, bending to his oar, 890 
 
 With measured sweep the burden bore, 
 
 In such wild cadence, as the breeze 
 
 Make's through December's leafless trees. 
 
 " The chorus first could Allan know, 
 
 •* Roderigh Vich Alpine, ho ! iro ! " 895 
 
 And near and nearer as they rowed, 
 
 Distinct the martial ditty flowed. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 BOAT SONO 
 
 Mail to the chief who in triumph advances ! 
 
 Honoured and bless'd be the ever-green 1 isie ! 
 rjv)ug may the tree in his banner that glances, 400 
 
 Flourish, the shelter and grace of our kue ! 
 Heaven send it happy dew, , ' 
 
 Earth lend it sap anew, ■* 
 
CANTO II.] THE ISLAND. . 15. 
 
 Gaily to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, 
 
 While every highland glen, 405 
 
 Sends our shout back agen, 
 Koderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !'* 
 
 Durs is no saplin, chance-sown by the fountain, 
 
 Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; 
 When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the 
 
 mountain, -ilO 
 
 The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade. 
 Moored in the rifted rock. 
 Proof to the tempest's shock. 
 Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 
 
 Menteith and Breadalbane, then, 415 
 
 Echo his praise agen, 
 " Koderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 
 
 XX. 
 
 Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Frmn, 
 And Banocbar's groans to our slogan replied; 
 Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, 420 
 And the best of Loch-Lomond lie dead on her side. 
 
 Widow and Saxon maid . 
 
 Long shall lament our raid. 
 Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe ; 
 
 Lennox and Leven-glen, 425 
 
 Shake when they hear agen, 
 *' Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 
 
 Row, vassals row, for the pride of the Highlands ! 
 
 Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green Pine ! 
 ! that the rosebud that graces yon islands, 430 
 
 Were wi-eathed in a garland around him to twine ! 
 
 O that some seedling gem ^. ...... .. 
 
 Worthy such noble stem. 
 Honoured and bless'a in their shadow might grow ! 
 
 Loud should Clan-Alpine then 435 
 
 Ring from her deepest glen, " ; *: 
 
 " Boderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe | " ^^^ , : 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE« | CANTO 11. 
 XXI. 
 
 With all her joyful female band, 
 
 Had Lady Margaret sought the strand ; 
 
 Loose on the breeze their tresses flew, 410 
 
 And high their snowy arms they threw. 
 
 As echoing back, with shrill acclaim, 
 
 And chorus wild, the chieftain's name ; 
 
 While, prompt to please, with mother's art, 
 
 The darling passion of his heart, 445 
 
 The Dame called Ellen to the strand, 
 
 To greet her kinsman ere he land : 
 
 " Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou, 
 
 And shun to wreathe a victor's brow ? " 
 
 Reluctantly and slow the maid 450 
 
 Th' unwelcome summoning obeyed, 
 
 And, when a distant bugle rung, 
 
 In the mid-path aside she sprung : — 
 
 "List, Allan-bane ! From main-land cast, 
 
 I hear my father's signal blast ; 455 
 
 Be ours," she cried, " the skiff to guide, 
 
 And waft him from the mountain side.'* 
 
 Then, like a sunbeam, swift, and bright, 
 
 She darted to her shallop light. 
 
 And eagerly while Roderick scanned, 460 
 
 For her dear form, his mother's baud, 
 
 The islet far behind her lay, 
 
 And she had landeS in the bay. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Some feelings are to mortals given, 
 
 With less of earth in them than heaven ; 46 
 
 And if there be a human tear . ^ . . 
 
 From passion's dross refined and clear, 
 
 A tear so limpid and so meek, 
 
 It would not stain an angel's cheek, 
 
 'Tis that which pious fathers shed 470 
 
 Upon a duteous daughter's head 1 
 
 /.nd as the Douglas to his breast 
 
 His darling Ellen closely pressed, 
 
 I 
 
CANTO II.l THE ISLAND. 17 
 
 Such holy drops her tresses steep*c[ 
 
 Though 'twas a hero's eye that woep'd. 476 
 
 Nor, while on Ellen's faltering tongiia 
 
 Her filial welcomes crowded hung, 
 
 Harked she that fear (affection's proof ) 
 
 Still held a graceful youth aloof ; 
 
 No! not till Douglas named his name, 480 
 
 Although the youth was Malcolm Graeme. 
 
 . XXIII. 
 
 Allan, with wistful look the while, 
 
 Marked Boderick landing on the isle ; 
 
 His master piteously he eyed, » 
 
 Then gazed upon the chieftain's pride, 485 
 
 Then dashed, with hasiy hand, away 
 
 From his dimmed eye the gathering spray ; 
 
 And Douglas, as his hand he laid 
 
 On Malcolm's shoulder, kindly said 
 
 " Canst thou, young friend, no meaning spy 490 
 
 In my poor follower's gUstening eye ? 
 
 I'll tell thee : — he recalls the day, 
 
 *' When in my praise he led the lay 
 
 O'er the arched gate of Bothwell proud, 
 
 While many a minstrel answered loud, 95 
 
 When Percy's Norman pennon, won 
 
 In bloody field, before me shone, 
 
 And twice ten knights, the least a name 
 
 As mighty as yon chief may claim, - 
 
 Gracing my pomp, behind me came ; - ' 600 
 
 Yet, trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 
 
 Was I of all that marshalled crowd. 
 
 Though the waned crescent owned my might, 
 
 And in my train trooped lord and knight. 
 
 Though Blantyre hymned her holiest lays, 505 
 
 And Bothwell's bards flung back my j^raise, 
 
 As when this old man's silent tear. 
 
 And this poor maid's affection dear, 
 
 A welcome give more kind and true, 
 
 Than on^ht m^ better fortunes kn^w. 61Q 
 
 ■■*;' 
 
18 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE [CANTO II« 
 
 Forgi\o, my friend, a father's boast 
 I it out-beggars all I lost 1 " — 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Delightful praise ! — like summer rose, 
 The brighter in the dew-drop glows, 
 The bashful maiden's cheek appeared, 
 For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. 
 The flush of shamefaced joy to hide, 
 The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide ; 
 The loved cai-esses of the maid 
 The dogs with crouch and whimper paid ; 
 And, at her whistle, on her hand 
 The falcon took his favourite stand, 
 Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye, 
 Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly. 
 And trust., while in such guise she stood, 
 Like fabled Goddess of the Wood 
 That if a father's partial thought 
 O'erweighed her worth and beauty aught, 
 Well might the lover's judgment fail 
 To balance with a juster scale ; * 
 For with each secret glance he stole, 
 The fond enthusiast sent his soul. 
 
 515 
 
 520 
 
 525 
 
 530 
 
 X\Y. 
 
 Of stature fair, and slender fiame, 
 
 But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme : 
 
 The belted plaid and tartan hose . . ,^ 533 
 
 Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ; : 
 
 His flaxen hair, of sunny hue, 
 
 Curled closely round his bonnet blue ; 
 
 Trained to the chase, his eagle eye 
 
 The ptarmigan in snow could spy ; • 540 
 
 Each pass,, by mountain, lake and heath. 
 
 He knew, through Lennox and Monteith ; 
 
 Vain was the bound of dark-brown doe, ., 
 
 When Malcolm bent his sounding bow, 
 
 And scarce that doe, though winged with fear, 545 
 
CAKTO n.J THE ISTAN©. 19 
 
 Outstripped in speed the mountaineer ; 
 
 Bight up Ben-Lomond could he press. 
 
 And not a sob his toil confess; 
 
 His form accorded with a mind, 
 
 Lively and ardent, frank and kind ; 650 
 
 A blither heart, till Ellen came,. 
 
 Did never love nor sorrow tame ; 
 
 It danced as hghtsome in his breast, 
 
 As played the feather on his crest. 
 
 Yet friends, who nearest know the youth, 655 
 
 His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth. 
 
 And bards, who saw his features bold. 
 
 When kindled by the tales of old ; 
 
 Said, were that youth to manhood grown, 
 
 Not long should Boderick Dhu's renown, 660 
 
 Be foremoat voiced by mountain fame, ^ 
 
 But quail to that of Malcolm Graeme. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Now back they wend their watery way, 
 And, *' my sire ! " did Ellen say, 
 "Why urge thy chase so far astray ? 665 
 
 And why so late returned ? And why" — 
 The rest was in her speaking eye. 
 *' My child, the chase I follow far, 
 'Tis mimicry of noble war, 
 
 And with that gallant pastime 'ref fc 670 
 
 Were all of Douglas I have left. 
 I met young Malcolm as I strayed 
 Far eastward, in Glenfinlas' shade, : 
 Nor strayed I safe ; for, all around, . 
 Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground 575 
 This youth, though still a royal ward, 
 Bisked life and land to be my guard, 
 And through the passes of the wood 
 Guided my steps, not unpursued ; 
 And Boderick shall his welcome make, 6S0 
 
 . , Despite old spleen, for Douglas' sake. 
 
 Then must he seek Strath-Endrick glen . , 
 Nor peril ought for me agen." — 
 
20 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [cANTO II. 
 
 xxvn. * . 
 
 Sir Eoderick, who to meet them came, 
 
 Reddened at sight of Malcolm Graeme, ft 
 
 Yet, not in action, word, or eye. 
 
 Failed aught in hospitality. 
 
 In talk and sport they whiled away 
 
 The morning of that summer day ; 
 
 But at high noon a courier light 593 
 
 Held secret parley with the knight, 
 
 Whose moody aspect soon declared. 
 
 That evil were the news he heard. 
 
 Deep thought seemed toiling in his head ; 
 
 Yet was the evening banquet made, 695 
 
 Ere he assembled, round the flame 
 
 His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, 
 
 And Ellen, too; then cast around 
 
 His eyes, then fixed them on the ground, 
 
 As studying phrase that might avail 600 
 
 Best to convey unpleasant tale. 
 
 Long with his dagger's hilt he playf d, 
 
 Then raised his haughty brow, and said : 
 
 xxvin. 
 
 ** Short be my speech ; — ^nor time affords, 
 
 Nor my plain temper, glozing words. 605 
 
 Kinsman and father, — if such name 
 
 Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's claim ; 
 
 Mine honoured mother ; Ellen — ^why, 
 
 My cousin, turn away thine eye ? 
 
 And Graeme ; in whom I hope to know 610 
 
 Full soon a noble friend or foe, 
 
 When age shall give thee thy command 
 
 And leading in thy native land : — 
 
 List all ! — the King's vindictive pride f ; 
 
 Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, 615 
 
 Where chiefs, with hound and hawk who came 
 
 To share their monarch's slyvan game, ...^- ,4 
 
 Themselves in bloody toils were snared, 
 
 And when the banquet they prepared I 
 
CANTO II.] THE ISLAND. ' 21 
 
 And wide their loyal portals fl'^jig, 620 
 
 O'er their own gateway struggling hung ; 
 
 Loud cries their blood from Meggat's mead, 
 
 From Yarrow braes, and banks of Tweed 
 
 Where the lone streams of Ettricke glide, 
 
 And from the silver Teviot's side ; 625 
 
 The dales, where martial clans did ride. 
 
 Are now one sheep-walk, waste and wide. 
 
 This tyrant of the Scottish throne. 
 
 So faithless and so ruthless known. 
 
 Now hither comes; his end the same, 6C0 
 
 The same pretext of sylvan game, 
 
 What grace for Highland chiefs judge ye, 
 
 By fate of Border chivalry. 
 
 Yet more ; amid Glenfinlas green, 
 
 Douglas, thy stately form was seen. 635 
 
 This by espial sure I knew : 
 
 Your counsel in the streight I show."— 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Ellen and Margaret fearfully 
 
 Sought comfort in each other's eye, 
 
 Then turned their ghastly look, each one, 6iO 
 
 This to her sire, that to her son. , 
 
 The hasty colour went and came -i ^ 
 
 In the bold cheek of Malcolm Graeme : 
 
 But from his glance it well appeared, 
 
 'Twas but for Ellen that he feared ; — ^ 645 
 
 While sorrowful, but imdismay'd. 
 
 The Douglas thus his counsel said : 
 
 "Brave Koderick, though the tempest roar, ^ 
 
 It may but thunder and pass o'er ; ^.. 
 
 Nor will I here remain an hour, T .' GoO 
 
 To draw the lightning on thy bower ; 
 
 For well thou know'st, at this gray head 
 
 The royal bolt were fiercest sped ; 
 
 For thee, who, at thy King's command, ": 
 
 Canst aid him with a gallant band, - J'^. > 655 
 
 Submission, homage, humbled pride, 
 
 Shall turn the Monarch's wrath aside. 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO It* 
 
 Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, 
 
 Ellen and I will seek, apart, 
 
 The refuge of some forest cell ; 660 
 
 There, like the hunted quai ly, dwell, 
 
 Till on the mountain and the moor 
 
 The stem pursuit be passed and o'er."— 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " No, by mine honour," Roderick said, 
 
 " So help me, heaven, and my good blad* ! 6C5 
 
 No, never I Blasted be yon pine, 
 
 My fathers' ancient crest and mine. 
 
 If from its shade in danger part 
 
 The lineage of the Bleeding Heart ! 
 
 Hear my blunt speech ; grant me this maid 670 
 
 To wife, thy counsel to mine aid ; 
 
 To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu, 
 
 Will friends and allies flock enow ; 
 
 Like cause of doubt, distrust and grief. 
 
 Will bind to us each western chief. 675 
 
 When the loud pipes my bridal tell. 
 
 The links of Forth shall hear the kncll, 
 
 The guards shall start in Stirling porch ; 
 
 And when I light the nuptial torch, 
 
 A thousand villages in flames 680 
 
 Shall scare the slumbers of King James I 
 
 — Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away, 
 
 And, mother, cease these signs I pray ; 
 
 I meant not all my heat might say. — 
 
 Small need of inroad, or of fight, 685 
 
 When the sage Douglas may unite 
 
 Each mountain clan in friendly band. 
 
 To guard the passes of their land, * 
 
 Till the foiled King, from pathless glen, 
 
 Shall bootless turn him home agen." C90 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 fhere are, who have, at midnight hour, 
 In slumber scaled a dizzy tower, 
 
( .wNTO ir] rilii ISLAND. '26 
 
 Aud, on the vcrpje that beetl'd o'er 
 
 The oceau tidc-'tj incessant roar, 
 
 Dreamed calmly out their dangerous dream, 695 
 
 Till wakened by the morning beam ; 
 
 When, dazzled by the eastern glow, 
 
 Such startler cast his glance below. 
 
 And saw unmeasured depth around, 
 
 And heard unintermitted sound, 700 
 
 Aud thought the battled fence so frail, 
 
 It waved hke cobweb in the gale ; — 
 
 Amid his senses' giddy wheel, 
 
 Did he not desperate impulse feel. 
 
 Headlong to piunge himself below, 705 
 
 And meet the worst his fears foreshow ? — 
 
 Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound. 
 
 As sudden ruin yawned around^ 
 
 By crossing terrors wildly tossed. 
 
 Still for the Douglas fearing most, 710 
 
 Could scarcely the desperate thought w'thstnn i 
 
 To buy his safety with her hand. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy 
 In Ellen's quivering lip and eye. 
 And eager rose to speai — but ere 715 
 
 His tongue could hurry forth his fear, 
 Had Douglas marked the hectic strife. 
 Where death seemed combating with life ; 
 For to her cheek, in feverish flood, 
 One instant rushed the throbbing blood, ' 720 
 Then ebbing back, with sudden sway, 
 Left its domain as wan as clay. 
 " Roderick, enough ! enough ! " he cried, 
 *' My daughter cannot be thy bride : - 
 
 Not that the blush to wooer dear, 725 
 
 Nor paleness that of maiden fear ; 
 It may not be, — forgive her chief, 
 Nor hazard aught for onr relief ; 7 -- 
 
 Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er 
 .^: Will level a rebellious spear ; - . ^. 1 j- ^ 7SQ 
 
24 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO II. 
 
 'Twas I that taught his youthful hand 
 
 To rein a steed and wield a brand ; 
 
 I see him yet, the princely boy ! 
 
 Not Ellen more my pride and joy ; 
 
 I love him still, despite my wrongs, 735 
 
 By hasty wrath and slanderous tongues. 
 
 seek the grace you well may find, 
 
 Without a cause to mine combined !"— 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode : 
 
 The waving of his tartans broad, 740 
 
 And darkened brow, where wounded pride 
 
 With ire and disappointment vied, 
 
 Seemed by the torch's gloomy light, 
 
 Like the ill demon of the night. 
 
 Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway 745 
 
 Upon the 'nighted pilgrim's way ; 
 
 But, unrequited Love I thy dart 
 
 Plunged deepest its envenomed smart, 
 
 And Koderick, with thine anguish stung, 
 
 At length the hand of Douglas wrung, 750 
 
 While eyes, that mocked at tears be|orG, 
 
 With bitter drops were running o'er. 
 
 The death-pangs of long cherished hope 
 
 Scarce in that ample breast had scope, 
 
 But, struggling with his spirit proud 755 
 
 Convulsive heaved its chequered shroud, 
 
 While every sob — so mute were all — 
 
 Was heard distinctly through the hall. 
 
 The son's despair, the mother's look 
 
 111 might the gentle Ellen brook ; 760 
 
 She rose, and to her side there came, 
 
 To aid her parting steps, the Grseme. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Then Roderick from the Douglas broke — - 
 
 As flashes flame through sable smoke, 
 
 Kindling its wreaths, long, dark and low, * ' 705 
 
;'■•' /■- 
 
 CAiJtO TI.] THE COMBAt. 2ft 
 
 * 
 
 To one broad blaze of ruddy glow, 
 
 So the deep anguish of despaur 
 
 Burst in fierce jealousy, to air, * 
 
 "With stalwart grasp his hand ht laid 
 
 On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : 770 
 
 " Back, beardless boy ! " he sternly said, \, 
 
 *' Back, minion ! hold'st thou thus at naught 
 
 The lesson I so lately taught ? 
 
 This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, 
 
 Thank you for punishment delayed." 775 
 
 Eager as greyhound on his game, 
 
 Fiercely with Eoderick grappled Graeme. 
 
 " Perish my name, if aught afford 
 
 Its chieftain safety, save his sword ! '* — 
 
 Thus as they strove, their desperate hand "80 
 
 Griped to the dagger or the brand, 
 
 And death had been — but Douglas rose, - 
 
 And thrust between the struggling foes 
 
 His giant strength : — Chieftains, forego I 
 
 I hold the first who strikes, my foe. — 785 
 
 Madmen, forbear your frantic jar I 
 
 What ! is the Douglas fall'n so far, 
 
 His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil 
 
 Of such dishonourable broil ! " — 
 
 Sullen and slowly, they unclasp, 790 
 
 As struck with shame, their desperate grasp, 
 
 .And each upon his rival glared, ? 
 
 With foot advanced, and blade half bared. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, 
 
 Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung, ^ 759 
 
 And Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream, : * 
 
 As faltered through terrific dream. 
 
 Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, 
 
 And veiled his wrath in scornful word. 
 
 " Rest safe till morning ; pity 'twere 800 
 
 Such cheek should feel the midnight air ! 
 
 Then mayst thou to James Stuart tell, ! ^ '\ 
 
 Roderick will keep the lake and fell, r'~ - ~^. 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO 11. 
 
 Nor lackey, with his free-born clan, 
 
 The pageant pomp of earthly man. 805 
 
 More would he of CJan-Alpine know, 
 
 Thou can'st our strength and passes show.— 
 
 Malise, what ho!" — ^hiR henchman came ; 
 
 •* Give our safe conduct to the Graeme." 
 
 Young Malcolm answered, calm and bold, 810 
 
 *' Fear nothing for thy favourite hold ; 
 
 The spot an angel deigned to grace, 
 
 Is blessed, though robbers haunt the place : 
 
 Thy churlish courtesy for those 
 
 Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. 816 
 
 As safe to me the mountain way 
 
 At midnight, as in blaze of day, 
 
 Though, with his boldest at his back, 
 
 Ev'n Ehoderick Dhu beset the track. — 
 
 Brave Douglas, — lovely Ellen,— nay, 820 
 
 Nought here of parting will I say. 
 
 Earth does not hold a lonesome glen, 
 
 So secret, but we meet again. — 
 
 Chieftain ! we too shall find an hour," 
 
 He said, and left the sylvan bower. 825 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Old Allan followed to the strand, 
 
 (Such was the Douglas's command.) 
 
 And anxious told, how, on the morn. 
 
 The stern Sir Roderic deep had sworn. 
 
 The Fiery Cross should circle o'er 830 
 
 Dale, glen, and valley, down, and moor. 
 
 Much were the peril to the Groeme, 
 
 From those who to the signal came ; 
 
 Far up the lake 'twere safest land. 
 
 Himself would row him to the strand. 835 
 
 He gave his counsel to the wind, 
 
 While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind, 
 
 Round dirk and pouch and broadsword rolled, 
 
 His ample plaid in tightened fold. 
 
 And stripped his limbs to such array, 840 
 
 As best might suit the watery way. 
 
CANTO II.J THE ISLAND. 27 
 
 4 
 
 xxxvn. 
 
 Then spoke abrupt : " Farewell to thee, 
 Pattern of old fidelity ! "— 
 ^ l^e minstrel's hand he kindly pressed,— - 
 
 '' ! could I point a place of rest ! 8i5 
 
 My sovereign holds in ward my land, 
 
 My uncle leads my vassal band ; 
 
 To tame his foes, his friends to aid, 
 
 Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade ; 
 
 Yet, if there be one faithful, Graeme, 850 
 
 Who loves the chieftain of his name. 
 
 Not long shall honoured Douglas dwell 
 
 Like hunted stag in mountain cell ; 
 
 Nor, ere yon pride-swoll'n robber dare, — 
 
 I may not give the rest to air ! — 865 
 
 Tell Eoderick Dhu, I owed him nought, 
 
 Not the poor service of a boat, 
 
 To waft me to yon mountain side." 
 
 Then plunged he in the flashing tide. 
 
 Bold o'er the flood his head he bore, 860 
 
 And stoutly steered him from the shore ; 
 
 And Allan strained his anxious eye. 
 
 Far 'mid the lake his form to spy. 
 
 Darkening across each puny wave. 
 
 To which the moon her silver gave, 865 
 
 Fast as the cormorant could skim, 
 
 The swimmer plied each active limb ; 
 
 Then, landing in the moonlight dell, 
 
 Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 
 
 The Minstrel heard the far halloo, 870 
 
 And joyful from the shore withdrew. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 VHE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 SIXTH CANTO. 
 
 These dr«w not for their fields the sword, 
 
 ■>.., , ,5„„. , . — ^ . Canto 6, Stanza Hi. 
 
 The Scottish armies consisted chiefly of the nobility and 
 barons, with their vassals, who held lands under them, for 
 military service by themselves and their tenants. 
 
 Indifferent as to archer wight, 
 
 The Monarch gave the arrow bright. 
 
 ,Kf Canto 6, Stanza xzii. 
 
 The Douglas of the story is an imaginary person, a 8up> 
 posed uncle of the Earl of Angus. 
 
 Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp. 
 
 Canto 6, Stanza vl. 
 
 The jongleurs, or jugglers, as we learn from the elaborate 
 work of the late Mr. Stnitt, on the sports and pastimes of the 
 People of England, used to call in the aid of various assist- 
 ants, to render these performanc_es as captivating as prasible. 
 The glee-maiden was a necessary attendant. Her duty was 
 tumbling and dancing. 
 
 That stirring air which peals on high, 
 
 -T ; ' • Canto 6, Stanza xiv. 
 
 There are several instances, at least in tradition, of per- 
 sons so much attached to particular tunes, as to require to 
 hear them on their death-bed. 
 
 ' Battle of BeaV an Duine, 
 
 Canto 6, Stanza xv. 
 
 A skirmish actually took place at a pass thus called in the 
 Trosachs, and closed with the remarkable incident mentioned 
 in the text. It was greatly posterior in date to the reiga o| 
 James V. 
 
80 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO II. 
 
 The Douglas like a stricken deer, 
 Disoivn'd by every noble peer. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza zii. 
 
 The exiled state of this powerful race is not exaggerated 
 in tbis and subsequent passages. 
 
 Maronnan'8 cell. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xiii. 
 
 The parish of Kilmarnock, at the eastern extremity of 
 Loch-Lomond, derives its name from a cell or chapel, dedi- 
 cated to Saint Maronoch. or Mamoch, or Maronen, about 
 whose sanctity very little is now remembered. There is a 
 fountain devoted to him in the same parish ; but its virtues, 
 like the merits of its patron, have fallen into oblivion. 
 
 Bracklin^s thundering ivave. 
 
 . Canto 2, Stanza xiii. 
 
 This is a beautiful cascade made at a place called the Bridge 
 of Bracklinn, by a mountain stream called the Keltie, about 
 a mile from the village of Callender, in Monteith. 
 
 For Tine-man forged by fairy lore. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xv. 
 
 Archibald, tke third Earl of Douglas, wag so unfortunate 
 in all his enterprises, that he acquired the epithet of Tive- 
 man, because he tined, or .lost, his followers in every bfittlc 
 he fought. 
 
 Did self-unscabbarded fm-eshow 
 The footstep of a secret foe. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xv. 
 
 The ancient warriors, whose hope and confidence rested 
 chiefly in their blades, were accustomed to T.educe omens 
 from them, especially from such as were supposed to have 
 been fabricated by enchanted skill, of which we have various 
 instaiices in the romances and legends of the time. 
 
 The pibroch proud. 
 
 ' Canto 2, Stanza xvii. 
 
 The connoisseurs in pipe-music affect to discover, in a well 
 composed pibroch, the imitative sounds of march, conflict, 
 flight, pursuit, and all the " current of a heady fight." 
 
 Roderigh vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ierce I 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xix. 
 
 Black Roderick, the descendant of Alpine. Besides his 
 ordinary name and sm*name, which were chiefly used in the 
 intercourse with the Lowlands, eveiy Highland chief had 
 an epithet expressive of his patriarchal dignity as head of 
 
CANTO II.] NOTES. 81 
 
 his clan, and which was common to all his predecessors and 
 Buccessors, as Pharaoh to the kings of Egypt, or Arsaces to 
 those of Parthia, 
 
 ^Iht best of Loch-Lomond lie dead on her side. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xx. 
 
 The Lennox, as the district is called which encircles the 
 lower extremity of Loch-Lomond, was peculiarly exposed to 
 the incursions of the mountaineers, who inhabited the inac- 
 cessible fastnesses at the upjier end of the lake, and the 
 neighbouring district of Loch-Katrine. 
 
 The Icing's vindictive pride 
 
 Boasts to have tamed the border aide. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xxviii. 
 
 In 1529, James V. made a couveution at Edinburgh, for the 
 purpose of considering the best mode of quelling the Border 
 robbers. 
 
 What grace for Highland chiefs judge ye, 
 By fate of Border chivah-y. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xxviii. 
 
 , Jam.9s was in fact, equally attentive 'to res1bi*ain rapine 
 and feudal oppression in ^ very part of his dominions. 
 
 Best safe till morning: pity 'tiuere 
 Snch cheek should feel the midnight air. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xxxv. 
 
 Hardihood was in every respect so essential to the charac- 
 ter of a Highlander, that the reproach ojf effeminacy was 
 the most bitter which could be thrown upon him. 
 
 His henchman came. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza xxxv. 
 
 This officer is a sort of secretary, and is to be ready, upon 
 all occasions to venture his life in defence of his master ; 
 and at drinking-bouts he stands behind his seat, at his 
 haunch, from whence his title is derived, and watches his 
 conversation, to see if any one offends his patron. 
 
 END OF SECOND CANTO. 
 
I 
 
 I 
 I 
 
®Ite Jaflg ri iU P^lie^ 
 
 WITH NOTES. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 THE GATHERING. 
 
 TORONTO: 
 
 W. WABWICK, ^VBLLINGTON STRJBKT BAST. 
 
 1876. * 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 THE a-.^TI3CE3I^IITa-. 
 
 I. 
 
 Time rolls his ceaseless course. The ra^e of yore, 
 
 Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 
 And told our marvelling boyhood legends store, 
 
 Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea, 
 How are they blotted from the things that be I tf 
 
 How few, all weak and withered of their force, 
 Wait on the verge of dark eternity. 
 
 Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse, 
 To sweep them from our sight ! Time rolls his cease- 
 less course. 
 
 > -_ 
 Yet live there still who can remember well, 10 
 
 How when a mountain chief his bugle blew. 
 Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell, 
 
 And solitary heath, the signal knew ; 
 And fast the faithful clan around him drew, 
 
 What time the warning note was keenly wound, 16 
 What time aloft their kindred banner flew, 
 
 While clamorous war-pipes yelled the gathering sound, 
 And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor round. 
 
 The summer dawn's reflected hue 
 
 To purple changed Loch Katrine blue ; 20 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO III. 
 
 Mildly and soft the western breeze 
 
 Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees, , 
 
 And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, 
 
 Trembled but dimpled not for joy ; 
 
 The mountain- shadows on her breast 25 
 
 Were neither broken nor at rest ; 
 
 In bright uncertainty they lie, 
 
 Like future joys to Fancy's eye. 
 
 The water-lily to the light 
 
 Her chalice reared of silver bright ; 80 
 
 The doe awoke, and to the lawn, 
 
 Begemmed with dewdrops, led her fawn ; 
 
 The gray mist left the mountain side, 
 
 The torrent shewed its glistening pride ; 
 
 Invisible in flecked sky, 35 
 
 The lark sent down her revelry ; 
 
 The blackbird and the speckled thrush 
 
 Good-morrow gave from brake and bubli ; 
 
 In answer cooed the cushat dove 
 
 Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. 40 
 
 UL 
 
 No thought of peace, no thought of rest. 
 
 Assuaged the storm in Koderick's breast. 
 
 With sheathed broadsword in his hand, 
 
 Abrupt he paced the islet strand. 
 
 And eyed the rising sun, and laid 45 
 
 His hand on his impatient blade. 
 
 Beneath a rock, his vassals' care 
 
 Was prompt the ritual to prepare. 
 
 With deep and deathful meaning fraught ; 
 
 For such Antiquity had taught 50 
 
 Was preface meet, ere yet abroad 
 
 The Cross of Fire should take its road. 
 
 The shrinking band stood oft aghast 
 
 At the impatient glance he cast ; — 
 
 Such glance the mountain eagle threw, 55 
 
 As, from the cliffs of Benvenue, 
 
 She spread her dark sails on the wind, 
 
 And, high in middle heaven reclined. 
 
CANTO in.] THR OATHEBINO. S H 
 
 With her broad shadow on the lake, ,:,, 
 
 Silenced the warblers of the brake. i§ 
 
 rv. 
 
 A heap of withered boughs was piled, 
 
 Of juniper and rowan wild, 
 
 Mingled with shivers from the oak, 
 
 Rent by the lightning's recent stroke. 
 
 Brian, the Hermit, by it stood, M 
 
 Barefooted, in his frock and hood. 
 
 His grisled beard and matted hair 
 
 Obscured a visage of despair ; 
 
 His naked arms and legs, seamed o'er, 
 
 The scars of frantic pennance bore. fi 
 
 That monk, of savage form and face, 
 
 The impending danger of his race - . 
 
 Had drawn from deepest sohtude. 
 
 Far in Benharrow's bosom rude. 
 
 Not his the mien of Christian priest, ff 
 
 But Druid's, from the grave released, 
 
 Whose hardened heart and eye might brook 
 
 On human sacrifice to look ; 
 
 And much, 'twas said> of heathen lore 
 
 Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er. 80 
 
 The hallowed creed gave only worse 
 
 A deadlier emphasis of curse ; ^ 
 
 No peasant sought that Hermit's prayer, 
 
 His cave the pilgrim shunned with care, 4. 
 
 The eager huntsman knew his bound, 6S 
 
 And in mid chase called off his hound ; 
 
 Or if, in lonely glen or strath, 
 
 The desert- dweller met his path. 
 
 He prayed, and signed the cross between. 
 
 While terror took devotion's mien 
 
 V. 
 
 Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. 
 His mother watched a midnight fold, 
 Built deep within a dreary glen, 
 
TBB LADY Of TBB L%KB. [OANTO m. 
 
 Where scattered lay the bones of men, 
 
 In some forgotten battle slain, 95 
 
 And bleached by drifting wind and rain. 
 
 It might have tamed a warrior's heart, 
 
 To view such mockery of his art ! 
 
 The ^ot-grass fettered there the hand, 
 
 Which once could burst an iron band ; 100 
 
 Beneath the broad and ample bone, 
 
 That bucklered heart to fear unknown, 
 
 A feeble and a timorous guest, 
 
 The field-fare framed her lowly nest ; 
 
 There the slow blind-worm left his slime 105 
 
 On the fleet limbs that mocked at time : 
 
 And there, too, lay the leader's skull. 
 
 Still wreathed with chaplet, flushed and full, 
 
 For heath-bell, with her purple bloom, 
 
 Supplied the bonnet and the plume. 110 
 
 All night, in this sad glen, the maid 
 
 Sate, shrouded in her mantle's shade ; 
 
 — She said, no shepherd sought her side, 
 
 No hunter's hand her snpod untied. 
 
 Yet ne'er again to braid her hair 115 
 
 The virgin snood did Alice wear ; 
 
 Gone was her maiden glee and sport. 
 
 Her maiden girdle all too short. 
 
 Nor sought she, from that fatal night, 
 
 Or holy church or blessed rite, 120 
 
 But locked her secret in her breast, 
 
 And died in travail, unconfessed. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Alone, among his young compeers, 
 
 Was Brian from his infant years ; 
 
 A moody and heart-broken boy, 126 
 
 Estranged from sympathy and joy, 
 
 Bearing each taunt with careless tongue 
 
 On his mysterious lineage flung. 
 
 Whole nights he spent by moonUght pale. 
 
 To wood and stream his hap to wail, 130 
 
 Till, frantio, he as truth received 
 
CANTO III.] THE GATHEBINa. % 
 
 What of his birth the crowd believed, 
 
 And sought, in mist and meteor fire, 
 
 To meet and know his Phantom Sire t 
 
 In vain, to soothe his wayward fate, 186 
 
 The cloister oped her pitying gate ; 
 
 In vain, the learning of the age 
 
 Unclasped the sable-lettered page ; 
 
 Even in its treasures he could find 
 
 Food for the fever of his mind. 140 
 
 Eager he read whatever tells 
 
 Of magic, cabala, and spells. 
 
 And every dark pursuit allied 
 
 To curious and presumptuous pride ; 
 
 Till with fired brain and nerves o'erstrung, 146 
 
 And heart with mystic horrors wrung, 
 
 Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, 
 
 And hid him from the haunts of men. 
 
 vn. 
 
 The desert gave him visions wild, 
 
 Such as might suit the Spectre's child. 150 
 
 Where with black cliffs the torrents toil, 
 
 He watched the wheeling eddies boil. 
 
 Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes 
 
 Beheld the river Demon rise ; 
 
 The mountain mist took form and limb, 155 
 
 Of noontide hag, or gobUn grim ; 
 
 The midnight wind came wild and dread, 
 
 Swelled with the voices of the dead ; 
 
 Far on the future battle-heath 
 
 His eye beheld the ranks of death : 160 
 
 Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurled, 
 
 Shaped forth a disembodied world. 
 
 One lingering sympathy of mind 
 
 Still bound him to the mortal kind ; 
 
 The only parent he could claim 165 
 
 Of ancient Alpine's lineage came. 
 
 Late had he heard, in prophet's dream, 
 
 The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream ; 
 
 Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, 
 
B THE LADY OP THE LAKE. [OANTO 111. 
 
 Of Charging steeds, careering fast 170 
 
 Along Benharrow's shingly side, 
 
 Where mortal horsemen ne'er might ride ; 
 
 The thunderbolt had split the pine — 
 
 All augured ill to Alpine's Une. 
 
 He girt his loins, and came to shew 175 
 
 The signals of impending woe, 
 
 And now stood prompt to bless or ban, 
 
 As bade the chieftain of his clan. 
 
 vni. 
 
 'Twas all prepared ; and from the rock 
 
 A goat, the patriarch of the flock, 180 
 
 Before the kindling pile was laid. 
 
 And pierced by Roderick's ready blade. 
 
 Patient the sickening victim eyed 
 
 The life-blood ebb in crimson tide, 
 
 Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb, 185 
 
 Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. 
 
 The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, 
 
 A slender crosslet formed with care, 
 
 A cubit's length in measure due : 
 
 The shaft and limbs were rods of yew, 190 
 
 Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave 
 
 Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave. 
 
 And, answering Lomond's breezes deep. 
 
 Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep, 
 
 The Cross, thus formed, he held on high, 195 
 
 With wasted hand, and haggard eye. 
 
 And strange and mingled feelings woke, 
 
 While his anathema he spoke. 
 
 IX. 
 
 I Woe to the clansman, who shall view 
 This symbol of sepulchral yew, 200 
 
 Forgetful that its branches grew 
 Where weep the heavens their holiest dew 
 
 On Alpine's dwelling low I 
 Deserter of his Chieftain's trust, 
 
CANTO III.] THE GATHERING* W 
 
 He ne'er shall mingle with their dust, 806 
 
 But, from his sires and kindred thrust, 
 Each clansman's execration just 
 
 Shall doom him wrath and woe.' 
 He paused ; the word the vassals took, 
 With forward step and fiery look, 210 
 
 On high their naked brands they shook, 
 Their clattering targets wildly stook ; 
 
 And first in murmur low, 
 Then, like the billow in his course, 
 That far to seaward finds his source, SIT 
 
 And flings to shore his mustered force, 
 Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarse, 
 
 *Woe to the traitor, woe !* 
 Ben-an's gray scalp the accents knew, 
 The joyous wolf from covert drew, £20 
 
 The exulting eagle screamed afar — 
 They knew the voice of Alpine's war. 
 
 X 
 
 The shout was hushed on lake and fell, 
 
 The monk resumed his muttered spell : 
 
 Dismal and low its accents came, 226 
 
 The while he scathed the Cross with flame, 
 
 And the few words that reached the air. 
 
 Although the holiest name was there, 
 
 Had more of blasphemy than prayer. 
 
 But when he shook above the crowd 230 
 
 Its kindled points, he spoke aloud: 
 
 * Woe to the wretch, who fails to rear 
 
 At this dread sign tlae ready spear I 
 
 For, as the flames this symbol sear, 
 
 His home, the refuge of his fear, 235 
 
 A kindred fate shall Know. 
 Far o'er its roof the volumed flame 
 tJIan- Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim, 
 While maids and matrons on his name 
 Shall call down wretchednes;^ ;v ^ «hame, ^ 240 
 
 And infamy and woe.' 
 Then rose the cry of females, shiili 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO III. 
 
 As gosfi-hawk's whistle on the hill, 
 
 Denotmoing misery and ill, 
 
 Mingled with chil&ood's babbling trill 245 
 
 Of curses stammered slow ; 
 Answering, with imprecation dread, 
 ' Sunk be his home in embers red ! 
 And cursed be the meanest shed 
 That e'er shall hide the houseless head 250 
 
 We doom to want and woe ! ' 
 A sharp and shrieking echo gave, 
 Coir-Uriskin, thy Goblin cave ! 
 And the grav pass where birches wave, 
 
 On £eala-nam-bo. 255 
 
 XI. 
 
 Then deeper paused the priest anew. 
 
 And hard his labouring breath he drew, 
 
 While with set teeth and clenched hand, 
 
 And eyes that glowed like fiery brand, 
 
 He meditated curse more dread, 260 
 
 And deadlier, on the clansman's head, 
 
 Who, summoned to his Chieftain's aid. 
 
 The signal saw and disobeyed. 
 
 The crosslet's points of sparkling wood, 
 
 He quenched among the bubbling blood, 265 
 
 And, as again the sign he reared. 
 
 Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard : 
 
 ' When flits this Gross from man to man, 
 
 Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan, 
 
 Burst be the ear tha« fails to heed ! 270 
 
 Palsied the foot that shuns to speed ! 
 
 May ravens tear the careless eyes, 
 
 Wolves make the coward heart their prize t 
 
 As sinks that blood-stream in the earth. 
 
 So may his heart'»-blood drench his hearth ! 275 
 
 As dies in hissing gore the spark. 
 
 Quench thou his hght. Destruction dark I 
 
 And be the grace to him denied, 
 
 Bought bv this sign to all beside ! ' 
 
CANTO ni.] THE OATHEBING. II 
 
 He ceased ; no echo gave agen 280 
 
 The murmur of the deep Amen. 
 
 xn. 
 
 Then Roderick, with impatient look, 
 
 From Brian's hand the symbol took : 
 
 ' Speed, Malise, speed ! ' he said, and gave 
 
 The crosslet to his henchman bravo. ?85 
 
 ' The muster-place be Lanrick mead — 
 
 Instant the time — speed, Malise, speed ! " 
 
 Like heath-bird, when the hawks pursue, 
 
 A barge across Loch Katrine flew ; 
 
 High stood the henchmen on the prow ; 290 
 
 So rapidly the barge-men row. 
 
 The bubbles, where they launched the boat, 
 
 Were all unbroken and afloat, ^ 
 
 Dancing in foam and ripple still. 
 
 When it had neared the mainland hill : 295 
 
 And from the silver beach's side 
 
 Still was the prew three fathom wide, 
 
 When hghtly bounded to the land 
 
 The messenger of blood and brand. 
 
 xin. 
 
 Speed Malise, speed ! the dun-deer's hide 300 
 
 On fleeter foot was never tied. 
 
 Speed, Malise, speed ! such cause of haste 
 
 Thine active sinews never braced. 
 
 Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast, 
 
 Burst down like torrent from its crest ; 305 
 
 With short and springing footstep pass 
 
 The trembling bog and false morass ; 
 
 Across the brook like roebuck bound, 
 
 And thread the brake like questing hound : 
 
 The crag is high, the scaur is deep, 810 
 
 Yet shrink not from the desperate leap ; 
 
 Parched are thy burning lips and brow, 
 
 Yet by the fountain pause not now ; 
 
 Herald of battle, fate, and fear, 
 
12 THE LADY OF THE LAKE- [CANTO III. 
 
 Stretch onward in thy fleet career ! 315 
 
 The wounded hind thou track'st not now, 
 
 Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough, 
 
 Nor pHest thou now thy flying pace, 
 
 With rivals in the mount n in race ; 
 
 But danger, death, and warrior deed, 320 
 
 Are in thy coui'se — speed, Malise, speed I 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Fast as the fatal symbol flies. 
 
 In arms the huts and hamlets rise ; 
 
 From winding glen, from upland brown, 
 
 They poured each hardy tenant down. 325 
 
 Nor slacked the messenger his pace ; 
 
 He shewed the sign, he named the place, 
 
 And, pressing forward like the wind, 
 
 Left clamour and suprise behind. 
 
 The fisherman forsook the strand, 330 
 
 The swarthy smith took dirk and brand ; 
 
 With changed cheer, the mower blithe 
 
 Left in the half -cut swathe the scythe ; 
 
 The herds without a keeper strayed, 
 
 The plough was in mid-furrow staid, 835 
 
 The falc'ner tossed his hawk away, 
 
 The hunter left the stag at bay ; 
 
 Prompt at the signal of alarms, 
 
 Each son of Alpine rushed to arms ; 
 
 So swept the tumult and affray 840 
 
 Along the margin of Achray. 
 
 Alas, thou lovely lake ! that e'er 
 
 Thy banks should echo sounds of fear I 
 
 The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep 
 
 So stilly on thy bosom deep, 345 
 
 The lark's blithe carol, from the cloud. 
 
 Seems for the scene too gaily loud. 
 
 AV. 
 
 Speed, MaliRe, speed ! the lake is past, 
 Duncraggan's huts appear at last, 
 
CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. 
 
 Aud peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, B50 
 
 Half hidden in the copse so green ; 
 
 There mayst thou rest, thy Ipbour done, 
 
 Their Lord shall speed the sigLal on. — 
 
 As stoops thd hawk upon his prty, 
 
 The henchman shot him down the way. 865 
 
 — What woeful accents load the gale ? 
 
 The funeral yeU, the female wail I 
 
 A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, 
 
 A valiant warrior fights no more. 
 
 Who, in the battle or the chase, 360 
 
 At Roderick's side shall fill his place !— 
 
 Within the hall, where torches' ray 
 
 SuppUes the excluded beams of day, 
 
 Lies Duncan on his lowly bier. 
 
 And o'er him streams his widow's tear. 365 
 
 His stripling son stands mournful by, 
 
 His youngest weeps, but knows not why ; 
 
 The viUage maids and matrons round 
 
 The dismal coronach resound. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 CORONACH. 
 
 He is gone on the mountain, 870 
 
 He is lost to the forest, 
 Like a summer-dried fountain. 
 
 When our need was the sorest. 
 The font, reappearing. 
 
 From the rain-drops shall borrow, 375 
 
 But to us comes no creering. 
 
 To Duncan no morrow ! 
 
 The hand of the reaper 
 
 Takes the ears that are hoary, 
 But the Yoice of the weeper 880 
 
 Wails manhood in glory. 
 The autumn winds rushing 
 
 Waft the leaves that are searest 
 
14 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO IH. 
 
 But our flower was in flushing, 
 
 When blighting was nearest. 885 
 
 Fleet foot on the correi, 
 
 Sage counsel in cumber, 
 Bed hand in the foray, 
 
 Fow sound is thy slumber ! 
 Like the dew on the mountain, 390 
 
 Like the foam on the river, 
 Like the bubble on the fountain. 
 
 Thou are gone, and for ever ! 
 
 XVII. 
 
 See Stumah, who, the bier beside. 
 
 His master's corpse with wonder eyed, 395 
 
 Poor Stumah ! whom his least halloo 
 
 Could send like lightning o'er the dew. 
 
 Bristles his crest, and points his ears. 
 
 As if some stranger step he hears. 
 
 'Us not a mourner's muffled : -ad, 400 
 
 Who comes to sorrow o'er tuf dead. 
 
 But headlong haste, or deadly fear, 
 
 Urge the precipitate career. 
 
 All stand aghast : unheeding all. 
 
 The henchman bursts into the hall ; 405 
 
 Before the dead man's bier he stood ; 
 
 Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood ; 
 
 * The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; 
 
 Speed forth the signal ! clansmen speed V 
 
 xvni. 
 
 Angus, the heir of Duncan's line, 410 
 
 Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. 
 
 In haste the stripling to his side 
 
 His father's dirk and broadsword tied ; 
 
 But when he saw his mother's eye 
 
 Watch him in speechless agony, 415 
 
 Back to her opened arms he flew, 
 
 Pressed on her lips a fond adieu — 
 
CANTO III.J THE GATHERING. 15 
 
 Alas 1* she sobbed — ' and yet be gone, 
 And speed thee forth, hke Duncan's son !' 
 One look he cast upon the bier, 420 
 
 Dashed from his eye the gathering tear, 
 Breathed deep to clear his labouring breast, 
 And tossed aloft his bonnet crest, 
 Then, like the high-bred colt, when, freed, 
 First he essays his fire and speed, 425 
 
 He vanished, and o'er moor and moss 
 Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. 
 Suspended was the widow's tear, 
 While yet his footsteps she could hear ; 
 And when she marked the henchman's eye, 430 
 Wet with unwonted sympathy, 
 • Kinsman,' she said, 'his race is run. 
 That should have sped thine errand on ; 
 The oak has fallen — the sapling bough 
 Is all Duncraggan's shelter now. 435 
 
 Yet trust I well, his duty done, 
 The orphan's God will guard my son. — 
 And you, in many a danger true, 
 At Duncan's best your blades that drew, 
 To arms, and guard that orphan's head I 440 
 
 Let babes and women wail the dead.* 
 Then weapon-clang, and martial call. 
 Resounded tlirough the funeral hall, 
 While from the walls the attendant band 
 Snatched sword and targe, with hurried hand ; 445 
 And short and flitting energy 
 Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye, 
 As if the sounds to warrior dear 
 Might rouse her Duncan from his bier. 
 But faded soon that borrowed force ; 450 
 
 Grief claimed his right, and tears their course. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, 
 
 It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. 
 
 O'er dale and hill the summons flew, 
 
 Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew ; 455 
 
16 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO III. 
 
 The tear that gathered in his eye 
 
 He left the mountain breeze to dry ; 
 
 Until, where Teith's young waters roll, 
 
 Betwixt him and a wooded knoll, 
 
 That graced the sable strath with green, 4G0 
 
 The chapel of Saint Bride was seen, 
 
 Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge, 
 
 But Angus paused not on the edge ; 
 
 Though the dark waves danced dizzily, 
 
 Though reeled his sympathetic eye, 466 
 
 He dashed amid the torrent's roar : 
 
 His right hand high the crosslet bore. 
 
 His left the pole-axe grasped, to guide 
 
 And stay his footing in the tide. 
 
 He stumbled twice — the foam splashed high, 470 
 
 With hoarser swell the stream raced by ; 
 
 And had he fallen — for ever there, 
 
 Farewell Duncraggan's orphan heir 1 
 
 But still, as if in parting life, 
 
 Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife, 475 
 
 Until the opposing bank he gained, 
 
 And up the chapel pathway strained. 
 
 XX. 
 
 A blithesome rout, that morning tide, 
 
 Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride, 
 
 Her troth Tombea's Mary gave 480 
 
 To Norman, heir of Armandave, 
 
 And, issuing from the Gothic arch, 
 
 The bridal now resumed their march. 
 
 In rude, but glad procession, came 
 
 Bonneted sire and coif-clad dame ; 485 
 
 And plaided youth, with jest and jeer, 
 
 Which snooded maiden would not hear : 
 
 And children, that, unwitting why. 
 
 Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry; 
 
 And minstrels that in measures vied 490 
 
 Before the young and bonny bride. 
 
 Whose downcast eye and cheek di.sclose 
 
 The tear and blush ol morning rose. 
 
CANTO III. I THE OATHKRINO. 17 
 
 With virgin step, and bashful hand, 
 
 She held the 'kerchief's snowy band ; 495 
 
 The gallant bridegroom, by her side. 
 
 Beheld his prize with victor's pride, 
 
 And the glad mother in her ear 
 
 Was closely whispering word of cheer. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Who meets them at the churchyai'd gate ? 600 
 
 The messenger of fear and fate ! 
 
 Haste in his hurried accent lies, 
 
 And grief is swdmming in his eyes. 
 
 All dripping from the recent flood, 
 
 Panting and travel-soiled he stood, 605 
 
 The fatal sign of fire and sword 
 
 Held forth, and spoke the appointed word: 
 
 ' The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; 
 
 Speed forth the signal ! Norman, speed ! ' 
 
 And must he change so Boon the hand, 510 
 
 Just linked to his by holy band, 
 
 For the fell Cross of blood and brand ? 
 
 And must the day, so blithe that rose, 
 
 And promised rapture in the close. 
 
 Before its setting hour, divide 515 
 
 The bridegroom from the plighted bride? 
 
 O fatal doom ! — it must ! it must I 
 
 Clan-Alpine's cause, her Chieftain's trust, 
 
 Her summons dread, brook no delay ; 
 
 Stretch to the race — away ! away I 520 
 
 xxn. 
 
 Yet slow he laid his plaid aside, 
 
 And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride, 
 
 Until he saw the starting tear 
 
 Speak woe he might not stop to cheer ; 
 
 Then, trusting not a second look, 625 
 
 In haste he sped him up the brook, 
 
 Nor backward glanced, till on the heath 
 
 Where Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teitii* 
 
18 THE LADY Or THE LAKE. [CANTO III. 
 
 — What in the racer's bosom stirred ? 
 
 The sickening pang of hope deferred, 530 
 
 And memory, with a torturing train 
 
 Of all his morning visions vain. 
 
 Mingled with love's impatience, came 
 
 The manly thirst for martial fame ; 
 
 The stormy joy of mountaineers, 535 
 
 Ere yet they rush upon the spears ; 
 
 And zeal for Clan and Chieftain burning. 
 
 And hope, from well-fought field returning, 
 
 With war's red honours oi^ his crest, 
 
 To clasp his Mary to his breast. 540 
 
 Stung by such thoughts, o'er bank and brae, 
 
 Like fire from flint he glanced away. 
 
 While high resolve, and feeling strong, 
 
 Burst into voluntary song. 
 
 xxin. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 The heath this night must be my bed, 545 
 
 The bracken curtain for my head, 
 My lullaby the warder's tread, 
 
 Far, far, from love and thee, Mary ; 
 To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, 
 My couch may be my bloody plaid, 550 
 
 My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid t 
 
 It will not waken me, Mary I 
 I may not, dare not, fancy now, 
 The grief that clouds thy lovely brow, 
 I dare not think upon thy vow, 555 
 
 And all it promised me, Mary. 
 No fond regret must Norman know ; 
 When bursts Clan- Alpine on the foe, 
 His heart must be like bended bow, 
 
 His foot like arrow free, Mary. 5C0 
 
 A time will come with feeling fraught, 
 For, if I fall in battle fought, 
 Thy hapless lover's dying thought 
 
 Shall be a thougbt on thee, Mary. 
 
CANTO in. J THE GATHERING. 19 
 
 And if returned from conquered foes, 665 
 
 How blithly will the evening close, 
 How sweet the linnet sing repose, 
 
 To my young bride and me, Mary I 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, 
 
 Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze, 670 
 
 Rushing, in conflagration strong, 
 
 Thy deep ravines and dells along, 
 
 Wrapping thy cliffs in purple glow, 
 
 And reddening the dark lakes below ; 
 
 Nor faster speeds it, nor so far, 67o 
 
 As o'er thy heaths the voice of war. 
 
 The signal roused to martial coil. 
 
 The sullen margin of Loch Voil, 
 
 Waked still Loch Doine, and to the source, 
 
 Alarmed Balvaig, thy swampy course ; 580 
 
 Thence southward turned its rapid road 
 
 Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad, 
 
 Till rose in arms each man might claim 
 
 A portion in Clan-Alpine's name. 
 
 From the gray sire whose trembling hand 585 
 
 Could hardly buckle on his brand. 
 
 To the raw boy, whose shaft and bow 
 
 Were yet scarce terror to the crow. 
 
 Each valley, each sequestered glen, 
 
 Mustered its little horde of men, 690 
 
 That met as torrents from the height 
 
 In Highland dales their streams unite, 
 
 Still gathering as they pour along, 
 
 A voice more loud, a tide more strong, 
 
 Till at the rendezvous they stood 695 
 
 By hundreds, prompt for blows and blood : 
 
 Each trained to arms since life began, 
 
 Owing no tie but to his clan. 
 
 No oath, but by his chieftain's hand, 
 
 No law, but Roderick Dhu's command, 60Q 
 
20 THB LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO III. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 That summer morn had Koderick Dhn 
 
 Surveyed the skirts of Benvenue, 
 
 And sent his scouts o'er hill and lieath, 
 
 To view the frontiers of Menteith. 
 
 All backward came with news of trnce ; 605 
 
 Still lay each martial Grasme and Bruce, 
 
 In Rednock courtj no horsemen wait, 
 
 No banner waved on Cardross gate, 
 
 On Duchray's towers no beacon shone, 
 
 Nor scared the herons from Loch Con ; 610 
 
 All seemed at peace. — Now, wot ye why 
 
 The Chieftain, with such anxious eye, 
 
 Ere to the muster he repair, 
 
 This western frontier scanned with care ? — 
 
 In Benvenue's most darksome cleft, 
 
 A fair, though cruel, pledge was left : 
 
 For Douglas, to his promise true, 
 
 That morning from the isle withdrev^. 
 
 And in a deep sequestered dell 
 
 Had sought a low and lonely cell. 620 
 
 By many a bard, in Celtic tongue, 
 
 Has Coir-nan-Uriskin been sung ; 
 
 A softer name the Saxons gu,ve, 
 
 And called the grot the Goblin-cave. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 It was a wild and strange retreat, 625 
 
 As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. 
 
 The dell, upon the mountain's crest, 
 
 Yawned like a gash on warrior's breust ; 
 
 Its trench had staid full many a rock, 
 
 Hurled by primeval earthquake shock 630 
 
 From Benvenue's gray summit wild, 
 
 And here, in random ruin piled, 
 
 They frowned Incumbent o'er the spot, 
 
 And formed the rugged silvan grot. 
 
 The oak and birch, with mingled shade, 636 
 
 At noontide there a twilight made. 
 
CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. ^2l 
 
 Unless when short and sudden shone 
 
 Some straggling beam on cliff or stone, 
 
 With such a glimpse as prophet's eye 
 
 Gains on thy depth, Futurity. 640 
 
 No murmur waked the solemn still, 
 
 Save tinkling of a fountain rill. 
 
 But when the wind chafed with the lake, 
 
 A sullen sound would upward break, 
 
 With dashing hollow voice, that spoke G16 
 
 The incessant war of wave and rock. 
 
 Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway, 
 
 Seemed nodding o'er the cavern gray. 
 
 From such a den the wolf had sprung, 
 
 In such the wild-cat leaves her young ; ' 650 
 
 Yet Douglas and his daughter fair 
 
 Sought for a space their safety there. 
 
 Gray Superstition's whisper dread 
 
 Debarred the spot to vulgar tread ; 
 
 For there, she said, did fays resort, 655 
 
 And satyrs hold their sylvan court, 
 
 By moonlight treat their mystic maze. 
 
 And blast the rash beholder's gaze. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Now eve, with wentorn shadows long. 
 
 Floated on Katrine bright and strong, 660 
 
 When Eoderick, with a chosen few. 
 
 Repassed the heights of Benvenue. 
 
 Above the Goblin-cave they go. 
 
 Through the wild pass of Beal-nam-bo ; 
 
 The prompt retainers speed before, 665 
 
 To launch the shallop from the shore, 
 
 For cross Loch Katrine Hes his way 
 
 To view the passes of Achray, 
 
 And place his clansmen in array. 
 
 Yet lags the chief in musing mind, 670 
 
 Unwonted sight, his men behind. 
 
 A single page, to bear his sword, 
 
 'cue attended on his lord ; 
 ihe rest their way through thickets break, 
 
 A 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [cANTO m. 
 
 And soon awake him by the lake. 676 
 
 It was a fair and gallant sight, 
 
 To view them from the neighbonriig height, 
 
 ^y the low-leveUed sunbeam's light ! 
 
 For strength and stature, from the clan 
 
 Each warrior was a chosen man, 680 
 
 As even afar might well be seen. 
 
 By their proud step and martial mien. 
 
 Their feathers dance, their tartans float, 
 
 Their targets gleam, as by the boat 
 
 A wild and warlike group they stand, 685 
 
 That well became such mountain strand. 
 
 xxvm. 
 
 Their Chief, with step reluctant, still 
 
 Was lingering on the craggy hill, 
 
 Hard by where turned apart the road 
 
 To Douglas's obscure abode. 690 
 
 It was but with that dawning morn. 
 
 That Boderick Dhu had proudly sworn, 
 
 To drown his love in war's wild roar. 
 
 Nor think of Ellen Douglas more ; 
 
 But he who stems a stream with sand, 696 
 
 And fetters flame with flaxen band, 
 
 Has yet a harder task to prove — 
 
 By firm resolve to conquer love I 
 
 Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost, 
 
 Still hovering near his treasure lost ; 700 
 
 For though his haughty heart deny 
 
 A parting meeting to his eye. 
 
 Still fondly strains his anxious ear, 
 
 The accents of her voice to hear. 
 
 And "nly did he curse the breeze 705 
 
 That waked to sound the rustling trees. 
 
 But hark ! what mingles in the strain? 
 
 It is the harp of Allan-bane, 
 
 That wakes its measure slow and high 
 
 Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 710 
 
 What melting voice attends the strings? 
 
 'Tis EUen, or an angel, sings, 
 
INTO ni.] THE GATHEBINd. 
 
 XXTX. 
 
 HYMN TO THE YXBGIlf* 
 
 Ave Maria i maiden mild ! 
 
 Listen to a maiden's pra^^er ! 
 Thon canst hear though irom the wild, 716 
 
 Thon canst save amid despair. 
 Safe may wo sleep beneath thy care, 
 
 Though banished, outcast, and reviled — 
 Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer ; 
 
 Mother, hear a suppliant child ! 
 
 Ave Maria / 
 
 Ave Maria ! undefiled ! 
 
 The flinty couch we now must share 
 Shall seem with down of eider piled, 
 
 If thy protection hover there. 
 The murky cavern's heavy air 
 
 Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled ; 
 Then, Maiden I hear a maiden's prayer, 
 
 Mother, list a suppUant child ! 
 
 Ave Maria t 730 
 
 Ave Maria ! Stainless styled ! 
 
 Foul demons of the earth and air. 
 From this their wonted haunt exiled, 
 
 Shall flee before thy presence fair. ^ 
 
 We bow us to our lot of care, 735 
 
 Beneath thy guidance reeonciled ; . i 
 
 Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer. 
 
 And for a father hear a child ! 
 
 Ave Maria ! 
 
 XXX. * j 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 Died on the harp the closing hymn — • 740 ! 
 
 Unmoved in attitude and Umb, j 
 
 As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lord 
 
 Stood leaning on his heavy sword. 
 
 Until the page, with humble sign. 
 
 Twice pointed to the sun's decUne. 
 
 Then while his plaid he round him casti 
 
24 ^ THE LADY OP THE LAKE. [OANTO HI. 
 
 ' It is the last time — 'tis the last,' 
 
 He muttered thrice — ' the last time e'er 
 
 That angel-voice shall Roderick hearl' 
 
 It was a goading thought — his stride 750 
 
 Hied hastier down the mountain-side ; 
 
 Sullen he flung him in the boat, 
 
 And instant 'cross the lak6 it shot. 
 
 They landed in that silvery bay. 
 
 And eastward held their hasty way, 755 
 
 Till, with the latest beams of light, 
 
 The band arrived on Lanrick height, 
 
 Where mustered, in the vale below, 
 
 Clan-Alpine's men in martial show. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 A various scene the clansmen made, 760 
 
 Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed; 
 
 But most, with mantles folded round, 
 
 Were crouched to rest upon the ground, 
 
 Scarce to be known by curious eye. 
 
 From the deep heather where they he, 765 
 
 So well was matched the tartan screen 
 
 With heath-bell dark and brackens green ; 
 
 Unless where, here and there, a blade, 
 
 Or lance's point, a glimmer made. 
 
 Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade. 770 
 
 But when, advancing through the gloom, 
 
 They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume, 
 
 Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 
 
 Shook the steep mountain's steady side. 
 
 Thrice it arose, and l^e and fell 775 
 
 Three times returned the martial yell ; 
 
 It died upon Bochastle's plain, 
 
 And silence claimed h&x evening reign. 
 
NOTES 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKU 
 
 THIRD CANTO. 
 
 And tvMle the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor, round. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza i. 
 
 When a chieftain designed to summon his clan, upon any 
 sudden or important emergency, he slew a goat, and making 
 a cross of any light wood, seared its extremities in the fire, 
 and extinguished them in the blood of the animal. This 
 was called the Fiery Cross, also Crean Tarigh, or the Gross 
 of Shame, because disobedience to what the symbol implied 
 inferred infamy. 
 
 Yet ne'er again, to braid her hair. 
 The virgin snood did Alice wear. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza v. 
 
 The snood, or riband, with which a Scottish lass braided 
 her hair, had an emblematical signification, and applied to 
 her maiden character. It was exchanged for the curch, toy, 
 or coif, when she passed by marriage, into the matron state. 
 
 The fatal Ben-shie's bodin{j scream. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza viii. 
 
 Most great families in the Highlands were supposed to 
 have a tutelar, or rather a domestic spirit, attached to them, 
 who took an interest in prosperity, and intimated, by their 
 wailings, any approaching disaster. That of Grant wa? 
 called May Moullach, and appeared in the form of a girl 
 who had her arm covered with hair. 
 
 Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, 
 Of charging steeds, careering fast. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza vii. 
 
 A presage of the kind alluded to in the text, is still be- 
 lieved to announce death to the ancient Highland family of 
 M'Lean of Lochbuy 
 
THE LADT OF THE LAKE. | CANTO in. 
 
 Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave 
 Their shadows o'er CUm- Alpine's grave, t 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza viii. 
 
 lyvch-Oaillia^h, the Isle of Nuns, or of Old Women, is a 
 most beautiful island at the lower extremity of Loch- 
 Lomond. 
 
 The dun deer's hide 
 
 On fleeter foot was never tied. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza ziii. 
 
 The present brogue of the Highlanders is made of half- 
 dried leather, with holes to admit and let out the water : 
 for walking the moors dry-shod is a matter altogether out 
 of the question. The ancient buskin was still ruder, being 
 made of the undressed deer's hide, with the hair outwards, 
 a circumstance which procured for the Highlanders the 
 well-known epithet of Bed-shanks. 
 
 The dismal Coronach. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza xiv. 
 
 The Coronach of the Highlanders, like the Ubdatus of the 
 Bomans, and the Ululoo of the Irish, was a wild expression 
 of lamentation poured forth by the mourners over the body 
 of a departed friend. 
 
 Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, 
 
 It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza xix. 
 
 A glc«nce at the provincial map of Perthshire, or at any 
 large map of Scotland, will trace the progress of the signal 
 through the small district of lakes and mountains, which, 
 in exercise of my poetical privilege, I have subjected to the 
 imaginary chieftain ; and which, at the period of my 
 romance, was really occupied by a clan who claimed a 
 descent from Alpine, a cl8,n the most unfortunate, and most 
 persecuted, but neither the least distinguished, less power- 
 lol, or least brave, of the tribes of the Gael. 
 
 Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, 
 Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza xxiv. 
 
 It may be necessary to info i the southern reader, that 
 the heauh on the Scottish moor-lands is often set Are to, 
 that the sheep may have the advantage of the young her- 
 bage produced in room of the tough old heather plants. 
 
 By his Chieftain's hand. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza xxiv. 
 
 The deep and implicit respect paid by the Highland clans- 
 men to th^ chief, rendered thii both a common and a 
 •oleum oftth. 
 
CANTO m.] NOTES. 
 
 — -'Coir-nan Uriakin. 
 
 Canto 8, Stanza xxv. 
 
 This is a very steep and most romantic hollow in the moun- 
 tain of Ben-venue. ^ 
 
 The wild pass of Beal-nam-Bo. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza zzvii. 
 
 Bealach-nam-Bo, or the pass of cattle, is a most magnifi- 
 cent glade» overhung with ancient birch-trees. The whole 
 compoeris ^e most sublime piece of scenery that imagina- 
 tion can conceive. 
 
 A single page, to bear his sword, 
 Alone attended on his lord. 
 
 Canto 3, Stanza xxvil. 
 
 A Highland chief being as absolute in his patriarchal 
 authority as any prince, had a corre8i>onding number of 
 officers attached to his person. 
 
f Re SJiidir of the %iXh. 
 
 WITH NOTES. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 THE PROPHECY. 
 
 TOEONTO: 
 
 W. WARWICK, WELLINGTON STREET EAST. 
 
 1876. 
 
THE LADY OF THE UKE. 
 
 CANTO FOUETH. 
 
 I. 
 
 *The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new, 
 
 And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears : 
 trhe rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, 
 
 And love is loveUest when embalmed in tears, 
 O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, 5 
 
 I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave, . - 
 Emblem of hope and love through future years !' — 
 
 Thus spoke young Norman, heii* of Armandave, 
 What time the sun arose on Veunachar's broad wave. 
 
 n. 
 
 Such fond conceit, half said, haK sung, 10 
 
 Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue. 
 
 All while he stripped the wild-rose spray, 
 
 His axe and bow beside him lay, 
 
 For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood, 
 
 A wakeful sentenel he stood. 15 
 
 Hark ! — on the rock a footstep rung, 
 
 And instant to his arms he sprung. 
 
 'Stand, or thou diest; — What, Malise? — soon 
 
 Art thou returned from Braes of Doune. 
 
 By thy keen step and glance I know 
 
 Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe,-- 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO IV. 
 
 (For while the Fiery Cross hied on, 
 On distant scout had Malise gone.) 
 Where sleeps the Chief ?' the henchman said. 
 
 • Apart, in yonder misty glade ; 25 
 To his lone couch I'll be your guide.' — 
 
 Then called a slumberer by his side. 
 And stirred him with his slakened bow — 
 
 • Up, up, Glentarkin ! rouse thee, ho ! 
 
 We seek the Chieftain ; on the track, 30 
 
 Keep eagle watch till I come back.' 
 
 m. 
 
 Together up the pass they sped : 
 
 ' What of the foemen ?' Norman said. — 
 
 • Varying reports from near and far ; 
 
 This certain — that a band of war 35 
 
 Has for two days been ready boune, 
 
 At prompt command, to march from Doune ; 
 
 King James, the while, with princely powers, 
 
 Holds revelry in Stirling towers. 
 
 Soon will this dark and gathering cloud 40 
 
 Speak on our glens in thunder loud. 
 
 Inured to bide such bitter bout. 
 
 The warrior's plaid may bear it out ; 
 
 But, Norman, how wilt thou provide 
 
 A shelter for thy bonny bride ?' — 45 
 
 'What ! know ye not that Koderick's care 
 
 To the lone isle hath caused repair 
 
 Each maid and matron of the clan, 
 
 And every child and aged man 
 
 Unfit for arms ; and given his charge, 50 
 
 Nor skitf nor shallop, boat nor barge, 
 
 Up^ai these lakes shall float at large, 
 
 But all beside the islet moor, 
 
 That such dear pledge may rest secure ?' — 
 
 IV. 
 
 • 'Tis well advised — the Chieftain's plan 56 
 Bespeaks the father of his clan. 
 
CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. ( 
 
 But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu 
 
 Apart from all his followers true V — 
 
 ' It is, because last evening-tide 
 
 Brian an augury hath tried, 60 
 
 Of that dread kind which must not be 
 
 Unless in dread extremity, 
 
 The Taghairm called ; by which, afar, 
 
 Our sires foresaw the events of war. 
 
 Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew/ — 65 
 
 MALISE. 
 
 ' Ah V well the gallant brute I knew I 
 
 The choicest of the prey we had, 
 
 When swept our merry-men Gallangad. 
 
 His hide was snow, his horns were dark, 
 
 His red eye glowed like fiery spark ; 70 
 
 So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, 
 
 Sore did he cuiaber our retreat, 
 
 And kept our stoutest kernes in awe, 
 
 Even at the pass of Beal 'maha. 
 
 But steep and flinty was the ro-i-d, 76 
 
 And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad, 
 
 And when we came to Dennan's Row, 
 
 A child might scatheless stroke his brow.' — 
 
 V. 
 
 NOBMAN. 
 
 ' That bull was slain : his reeking hide 
 
 They stretched the cataract beside, 80 
 
 Whose waters their wild tumult toss 
 
 Adown tbe black and craggy boss 
 
 Of that huge cliff, whose ample verge 
 
 Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. 
 
 Couched on a shelve beneath its brink, 85 
 
 Close where the thundering torrents aink, 
 
 Rocking beneath their headlong swr y, 
 
 And drizzled by the ceaseless spray. 
 
 Midst groan of rook, and roar of stream, 
 
6 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO IV. 
 
 The wizard waits prophetic dream. 90 
 
 Nor distant rests the Chief ; — but hush ! 
 
 See, gliding slow through mist and bush, 
 
 The hermit gains yon rock, and stands 
 
 To gaze upon our slumbering bands. 
 
 Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost, 95 
 
 That hovers o'er a slaughtered host ? 
 
 Or raven on the blasted oak. 
 
 That, watching while the deer is broke,' 
 
 His morsel claims with sullen croak?' 
 
 MALISE. 
 
 — * Peace ! peace ! to other than to me, 100 
 
 Thy words were evil augury ; 
 
 Cut still I hold Sir Roderick's blade 
 
 Clan- Alpine's omen and her aid, 
 
 Not aught that, gleaned from heaven or hell. 
 
 Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell. 105 
 
 The Chieftain joins him, see — and now, 
 
 Together they descend the brow.' 
 
 VI. 
 
 And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord 
 
 The Hermit Monk held solemn word : 
 
 ' Roderick ! it is a fearful strife, 110 
 
 For man endowed with mortal life, 
 
 Whose shroud of sentient clay can still 
 
 Feel feverish pang and fainting chill, 
 
 Whose eye can stare in stony trance, 
 
 Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance — 115 
 
 'Tis hard for such to view, unfurled, 
 
 Tlie curtain of the future world. 
 
 Yet, witness every quaking limb, 
 
 ?.Iy sunken pulse, mine eyeballs dim, 
 
 !^^y soul with harrowing anguish torn, 120 
 
 "^liis for my Chieftain have I borne ! 
 
 Tiie shapes that sought my fearful couch: 
 
 A human tongue may ne'er avouch ; 
 
 No mortal man — save he, who, bred 
 
NTO IV.] THE PROPHFCY. 7 
 
 Between the living and tho dead, 125 
 
 Is gifted beyond nature's law — 
 
 Had e'er survived to say he saw. 
 
 At length the fateful answer came, 
 
 In characters of living flame ! 
 
 Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll, 130 
 
 But borne and branded on my soul ; — 
 
 Which spills the foremost foeman's life, 
 
 That party conquers in the strife.' — 
 
 vn. 
 
 ' Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care ! 
 Good is thine augury, and fair. 135 
 
 Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood. 
 But first our broadswords tasted blood. 
 A surer victim still I know. 
 Self-offered to the auspicious blow : 
 A spy has sought my land this morn — 140 
 
 No eve shall witness his return ! 
 My followers guard each pass's mouth, 
 To east, to westward, and to south ; 
 Red Murdonk, bribed to be his guide, 
 Has charge to lead his steps aside, 145 
 
 Till, in deep path or dingle Vrown, 
 He light on those shall bring him down. 
 — But see, who comes his news to shew ; 
 " Malise ! what tidings of the foe ?'— 
 
 VIII. 
 
 At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive, 150 
 
 Two Barons proud their banners wave. 
 I saw the Moray's silver star. 
 And marked the sable pale of Mar.' 
 ' By Alpine's soul, high tidings those ! 
 I love to hear of worthy foes. 155 
 
 When move they on ?' — ' To-morrow's noon 
 Will see them here for battle boune.' — 
 ' Then shall it see a meeting stern ! — 
 But, for the place — say, coulJot thLii Icarn 
 
8 TUbl LADY OF THE LAKE. fcANTO IV. 
 
 Nought of the friendly clans of Earn ? 160 
 
 Strengthened by them, we well might bide 
 The battle on Benledi's side, 
 Thou couldst not ? — well ! Clan- Alpine's men 
 Shall man the Trosachs' shaggy glen ; 
 Within Loch Katrine's gorge we'll fight, 165 
 
 All in our maids and matron's sight, 
 Each for his hearth and household fire, 
 Father for child, and son for sire — 
 Lover for maid beloved ! — But why — 
 Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 170 
 
 Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear ! 
 A messenger of doubt and fear ? 
 No ! sooner may the Saxon lance 
 Unfix Benledi from his stance, 
 Than doubt or terror can pierce through 175 
 
 The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu ! 
 'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe. — 
 - Each to their post ! — all know their charge.' 
 The pibroch sounds, the bands advance. 
 The broadswords gleam, the banners dance, 180 
 Obedient to the Chieftain's glanoe. 
 — I turn me from the martial roar, 
 And seek Coir-Uriskin once more. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Where is the Douglas ? — he is gone, 
 
 And Ellen sits on the gray stone 186 
 
 Fast by the cave, and makes her moan ; 
 
 AVhile vainly Allan's words of cheer 
 
 Are poured on her unheeding ear. — 
 
 ♦ He will return — Dear lady, trust ! — 
 
 With joy return ; — he will — he must. ll*0 
 
 Weil was it time to seek, afar. 
 
 Some refuge from impending war. 
 
 When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm 
 
 Are cowed by the approaching storm. 
 
 I baw their boats with many a Ught, 195 
 
 Floating the live-long yesternight, 
 
 Gliif ting like flashes darted forth 
 
CANTO IV. I THi: PnOPHECY. 9 
 
 By the red streamers of the north ; 
 
 I marked at morn how close they rido, 
 
 Thick moored by the lone islet's side, 200 
 
 Like wild-ducks couching in the fen, 
 
 When stoops the hawk upon the glen. 
 
 Since this rude race dare not abide 
 
 The peril on the mainland side, 
 
 Shall not thy noble father's care 205 
 
 Some safe retreat for thee prepare V — 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 ' No, Allan, no ! Pretext so kind 
 
 My wakeful terrors could not blind. 
 
 When in such tender tone, yet grave, 
 
 Douglass a parting blessing gave, 210 
 
 The tear that glistened in his eye 
 
 Drowned not his purpose fixed on high. 
 
 My soul, though feminine and weak, 
 
 Can image his ; e'en as the lake, 
 
 Itself disturbed by slightest stroke, 215 
 
 Keflects the invulnerable rock. 
 
 He hears report of battle rife, 
 
 He deems himself the cause of strife. 
 
 I saw him redden, when the theme 
 
 Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream 220 
 
 Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bound, 
 
 Which I, thou saidst, about him wound. 
 
 Think'st thou he trowed thine omen aught ? 
 
 Oh no ! 'twas apprehensive thought 
 
 For ihe kind youth — for Eoderiek too — 225 
 
 (Let me be just) that friend so true ; 
 
 In danger both, and in our cause ! 
 
 Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. 
 
 Why else that solemn warning given, 
 
 " If not on earth, we meet in heaven !" 230 
 
 Why else, to Cambus-kennetL's- foyie, 
 
 If eve return him not again. 
 
 Am I to hie, and make me known ? 
 
10 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO IV. 
 
 Alas I he goes to Scotland's throne, 
 
 Buys his friend's safety with his own ; — **35 
 
 He goes to do — what I had done, 
 
 Had Douglas' daughter been his son !' — 
 
 XI. 
 
 • Nay, lovely Ellen ! — dearest, nay I 
 
 If aught should his return delay, 
 
 He only named yon holy fane 210 
 
 As fittiijg place to meet again. 
 
 Be sure he's safe ; and for the Graeme — 
 
 Heaven's blessing on his gallant name ! — 
 
 My visioned sight may yet prove true, 
 
 !v: or bode of ill to him or you. 215 
 
 When did my gifted dream beguile ? 
 
 Think of the stranger at the isle, 
 
 And think upon the harpings slow. 
 
 That presaged this approaching woe I 
 
 Sooth was my prophecy of fear ; 250 
 
 Believe it when it augurs cheer. 
 
 Would we had left this dismal spot ! 
 
 Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot. 
 
 Of such a wondrous tale I know — 
 
 Dear lady, change that look of woe, 255 
 
 My harp was wont thy grief to cheer.' — 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 ' Well, be it as thon wilt ; I hear, 
 
 But cannot stop the bursting tear.* 
 
 The Minstrel tried his simple art. 
 
 But distant far was Ellen's heart. 260 
 
 XII. 
 
 Ballad. 
 
 alice brand. 
 
 Merry it is in the good greenwood, 
 When the mavis and merle are singing, 
 
CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. 11 
 
 When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry. 
 And the hunter's horn is ringing. 
 
 * Alice Brand, my native land 265 
 
 Is lost for lovo of you 
 And we must hold by wood and wold, 
 As outlaws wont to do. 
 
 * Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright, 
 
 And 'Twas al! for thine eyes so blue, 270 
 
 That on the night of our luckless flight, 
 Thy brother bold I slew. 
 
 * Now must I teach to hew the beech, 
 
 The hand that held the glaive, 
 For leaves to spread our lowly bed, 275 
 
 And stakes to fence our cave. 
 
 ' And for vest of pall, thy fingers small, 
 
 That wont on harp to stray, 
 A cloak must sheer from the slaughtered deer 
 
 To keep the cold away.' — 280 
 
 * O Richard ! if my brother died, 
 
 'Twas but a fatal chance ; 
 For darkling was the battle tried, 
 And fortune sped the lance. 
 
 ' If pall and vair no more I wear, 285 
 
 Nor thou the crimson sheen. 
 As warm, we'll say, is the russet gray, 
 
 As gay the forest -green. 
 
 * And, Richard, if our lot be hard, 
 
 And lost thy native land, 290 
 
 Still Alice has her own Richard, 
 And he his Alice Brand.* 
 
13 THE LADY OF THE L\KE. [CANTO IV. 
 
 xin. 
 
 Ballad Continued. 
 
 'Tia merry, 'tis merry, in good ^eenwood. 
 
 So blithe Lady Alice is sinp-hig ; 
 On the beech's pride, and oak s brown side, 205 
 
 Lord Bichard's axe is ringing. 
 
 Up spoke the moody Ellin King, 
 
 Who wonned within the hill — 
 Like wind in the porch of a ruined church. 
 
 His voice was ghostly shrill. 300 
 
 * Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak. 
 
 Our moonlight circle's screen ? 
 Or who comes here to chase the deei-, 
 
 Beloved of our Eltin Queen? 
 Or who may dare on wold to wear 305 
 
 The faries' fatal green ? 
 
 ' Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie, 
 
 For thou wert christened man ; 
 For cross or sign thou wilt not fly, 
 
 For muttered word or ban. 310 
 
 'Lay on him the curse of the withered heart, 
 
 The curse of the sleepless eye ; 
 Till he wish and pray that his life would part, 
 
 Nor yot find leave to die.' 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Ballad Continued. 
 
 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood, 315 
 
 Though the birds have stilled their singing ; 
 
 The evening blaze doth Alice raise, 
 And Bichard is faggots bringing. 
 
 Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, 
 Before Lord Richard stands, 880 
 
CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. 18 
 
 And, as he crossed and blessed himself, 
 ' I fear not sign,' quoth the grisly elf, 
 ' That is made with bloody hands.' 
 
 But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 
 
 That woman void of fear — B25 
 
 * And if there's blood upon his hand, 
 
 'Tis but the blood of deer ' — 
 
 • Now loud thou Uest, thou bold of mood 1 
 
 It cleaves unto his hand, 
 The stain of thine own kindly blood, 330 
 
 The blood of Ethert Brand.' 
 
 Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand, 
 And made the holy sign — 
 
 * And if there's blood on Richard's hand, 
 
 A spotless hand is mine. 335 
 
 • And I conjure thee. Demon elf, 
 
 By Him whom Demons fear, 
 To shew us whence thou art thyself, 
 And what thine errand here ? ' 
 
 XV. 
 
 Ballad Continued. 
 
 • 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairy-land, 3 10 
 
 When fairy birds are singing, 
 When the court doth ride by their monarch's sile, 
 With bit and bridle ringing : 
 
 ♦ And gaily shines the Fairy-land — 
 
 But a] 1 is glistening show, Sio 
 
 Like the idle gleam that December's beam 
 Can dart on ice and snow. 
 
 * And fading, like that varied gleam. 
 
 Is our inconstant shape, 
 W^ho now like knii^fht and lady seem, 350 
 
 And now like dwarf apd ape. 
 
14 THE I.ADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO IV. 
 
 • It was between the night and day, 
 
 When the Fahy King has power, 
 That I sunk down in a sinful fray, 
 And, 'twixt Ufe and death, was snatched away 
 
 To the joyless Elfin bower. 35G 
 
 • But wist I of a woman bold, 
 
 Who thrice my brow durst sign, 
 I might regain my mortal mold, 
 As fair a form as thine.' 3G0 
 
 She crossed him once — she crossed him twice — 
 
 That lady was so brave ; 
 The fouler grew his goblin hue, 
 
 The darker grew the cave. 
 
 She crossed him thrice, that lady bold ; .305 
 
 He rose beneath her hand 
 The fairest knight on Scottish mold, 
 
 Her brother, Etheri Brand I 
 
 Merry it is in the good greenwood. 
 
 When the mavis and merle are singing, 370 
 
 But merrier were they in Dunfermline gray 
 
 When all the bells were ringing. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Just as the Mfnstrel sounds were staid, 
 
 A stranger climbed the steepy glade ; 
 
 His martial step, his stately mein, 375 
 
 His hunting suit of Lincoln green, 
 
 His eagle glance, remembrance claims—* 
 
 'Tis Snowdown's Knight, 'tis James Fitz-JamcR. 
 
 Ellen beheld as in a drearn, 
 
 Tiien, starting, scarce suppressed a scream : 380 
 
 ' O stranger ! in such hour of fear, 
 
 What evil hap has brought thee here ? ' — 
 
 ' An evil hap how can it be, 
 
 That bids me look again on thee ? 
 
 By promise bound, my former guide 385 
 
o'ANTO IV. I THE PROPHICY. 16 
 
 Met me betimes this morning tide, 
 
 And marshalled, over bank and bourno, 
 
 The happy path of my return.' — 
 
 ' The happy path ! — what ! said he nought 
 
 Of war, of battle to be fought, 390 
 
 Of guarded pass ? ' — ' No, by my faith I 
 
 Nor saw I aught could augur scathe.' — 
 
 ' O haste thee, Allan, to the kem, 
 
 — Yonder his tartans I discern ; 
 
 Learn thou his purpose, and conjure 395 
 
 That he will guide the stranger buio ! — 
 
 What prompted thee, unhappy man ? 
 
 The meanest serf in Roderick's clan 
 
 Had not been bribed by love or fear, 
 
 Unknown to him to guide thee here. ' — 400 
 
 XVII. 
 
 • Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be, 
 
 Since it is worthy care from thee ; 
 
 Yet life I hold but idle breath, 
 
 When love or honour's weighed with death. 
 
 Then let me profit by my chance, 405 
 
 And speak my purpose bold at once. 
 
 I come to bear thee from a wild, 
 
 Where ne'er before such blossom smiled ; 
 
 By this soft hand to lead thee far 
 
 From frantic scenes of feud and war. 410 
 
 Near Bochastle my horses wait ; 
 
 They bear us soon to Stirling gate. 
 
 I'll place thee in a lovely bower, 
 
 I'U guard thee like a tender flower' — 
 
 'O ! hush, Sir Knight ! ' twere female art, 415 
 
 To say I do not read thy heart ; 
 
 Too much, before, my selfish ear 
 
 Was idly soothed my praise to hear. 
 
 That fatal bait hath lured thee back, 
 
 In deathful hour, o'er dangerous track : 120 
 
 And how, how, can I atone 
 
 The wreck my vanity brought on 1 — 
 
 One way remains — I'll tell him all — 
 
16 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. f CANTO IV. 
 
 Yes I struggling bosom, forth it shall ! 
 
 Thou, whose light folly bears the blame, 425 
 
 Buy thine own pardon with thy shame I 
 
 But first — my father is a man 
 
 Outlawed and exiled, under ban ; 
 
 The price of blood is on his head, 
 
 With me 'twere infamy to wed. — 430 
 
 Still wouldst thou speak ? — then hear the truth ! 
 
 Fitz-James, there is a noble youth*— 
 
 If yet he is I — exposed for me 
 
 And mine to dread extremity — 
 
 Thou hast the secret of my heart ; 435 
 
 Forgive, be generous, and depart !' 
 
 xvin. 
 
 Fitz-James knew every wily train 
 
 A lady's fickle heart to gain, 
 
 But here he knew and felt them vain. 
 
 There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, -llO 
 
 To give her steadfast speech the lie ; 
 
 In maiden confidence she stood. 
 
 Though mantled in her cheek the blood, 
 
 And told her love with such a sigh 
 
 Of deep and hopeless agony, 445 
 
 As death had sealed her Malcolm's doom, 
 
 And she sat sorrowing on his tomb. 
 
 Hope vanished from Fitz- James's eye, 
 
 But not with hope fled smpathy. 
 
 He proffered to attend her side, 4^0 
 
 As brother would a sister guide. — 
 
 * ! little know'st thou Koderick's heart 1 
 
 Safer for both we go apart. 
 
 haste thee, ai Ji from Allan learn, 
 
 If thou mayst ti^ist yon wily kern.' 455 
 
 With hand upon his forehead laid, 
 
 The conflict of his mind to shade, 
 
 A parting step or two he made ; 
 
 Then, as some thought had crossed his brain. 
 
 He paused, and turmd, and came again. 4G0 
 
CANTO iv.j tht: prophecy. - 17 
 
 XIX. 
 
 ' Hear, lady, yet, a parting word ! — 
 
 It chanced in fight thal^niy poor sword 
 
 Preserved the life of Scotland's lord. 
 
 This ring the grateful Monarch gave, 
 
 And bade, when I had boon to crave, 465 
 
 To bring it back, and boldly claim 
 
 The recompense that I would name. 
 
 Ellen, I am no courtly lord. 
 
 But one who lives by lance and sword, 
 
 Whose castle is his helm and shield, 470 
 
 His lordship the embattled field. 
 
 What from a prince can I demand, 
 
 Wlio neither reck of state nor land ? 
 
 Ellen, thy hand — the ring is thine ; 
 
 Each guard and usher knows the sign. 
 
 Seek thou the king without delay ; 
 
 This signet shall secure thy way ; 
 
 And claim thy suit, whate'er it be, 
 
 As ransom of his pledge to me.' 
 
 He placed the'golden circlet on, 480 
 
 Paused — kissed her hand — and then_was gone. 
 
 The aged Minstrel stood aghast, 
 
 So hasily Fitz- James shot past. 
 
 He joined his guide, and wending down 
 
 The ridges of the mountain brown, 485 
 
 Across the stream they took their way, 
 
 That joins Loch Katrine to Achray. 
 
 XX. 
 
 All in the Trosachs' glen was still, 
 
 Noontide was sleeping on the hill : 
 
 Sudden his guide whooped loud and high — 490 
 
 * Murdoch ! was that a signal cry ?' — 
 
 He stammered forth — ' I shout to scare 
 
 Yon raven from his dainty fare.' 
 
 He looked — he knew the raven's prey, 
 
 His own brave steed : — * Ah, gallant gray ! 496 
 
 For the© — for me, perohanoe— 'twere weU 
 
18 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO IV. 
 
 We ne'er had seen the Trosachs' dell. — 
 
 Murdoch, move first— but silently ; 
 
 Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die ! ' 
 
 Jealous and sullen on they fared, 600 
 
 Each silent, each upon his guard. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Now wound the path its dizzy ledge 
 
 Around a precipice's edge, 
 
 When lo ! a wasted female form, 
 
 Blighted by wrath of sun and storm, 505 
 
 In tattered weeds and wild array, 
 
 Stood on a cUfi: beside the way. 
 
 And glancing round her restless eye, 
 
 Upon the wood, the rock, the sky, 
 
 Seemed nought to mark, yet all to spy. 510 
 
 Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom ; 
 
 With gesture wild she waved a plume 
 
 Of feathers, which the eagles fling 
 
 To crag and cU£f from dusky wing ; 
 
 Such spoils her desperate step had sought, 515 
 
 Where scarce was footing for the goat. 
 
 The tartan plaid she first descried, 
 
 And shrieked till all the rocks replied ; 
 
 As loud she laughed when near they drew. 
 
 For then the Lowland garb she knew ; 520 
 
 And then her hands she wildly wrung, 
 
 And then she wept, and then she sung — 
 
 She sung ! — the voice, in better time. 
 
 Perchance to harp or lute might chime ; 
 
 And now, though strained and roughened, still 
 
 Kung wildly sweet to dale and hill. 526 
 
 XXIL 
 
 SONG. 
 
 They bid me sleep, they bid me pray, 
 
 They say my brain is warped and wrung — 
 I cannot sleep on Higliland brae, 
 
CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. 19 
 
 I cannot pray in Highland tongue. ^ 630 
 But were I now where Allan glides, * 
 
 Or heard my native Devan's tides, 
 So sweetly would I rest, and pray 
 That Heaven would close my wintry day. 
 
 'Twas thus my hair they bade me braid, 535 
 
 They made me to the church repair ; 
 
 It was my bridal morn, they said, 
 
 And my true love would meet me there. 
 
 But woe betide the cruel guile. 
 
 That drowned in blood the morning smile ! 540 
 
 And woe betide the fany dream ! 
 
 I only waked to sob and scream. 
 
 xxm. 
 
 ' Who is this maid ? what means her lay ? 
 
 She hovers o'er the hollow way, 
 
 And flutters wide her mantle gray, 546 
 
 As the lone heron spreads his wing, 
 
 By twihght, o'er a haunted spring.' — 
 
 * 'Tis Blanche of Devan,' Murdoch said, 
 
 * A crazed and captive Lowland maid,' 
 
 Ta'en on the morn she was a bride, 560 
 
 Vvhen Roderick forayed Devan-side. 
 
 The gay bridegroom resistance made, 
 
 And felt our Chief's unconquered blade. 
 
 I marvel she is now at large, 
 
 But oft she 'scapes fron: Mrudlin's charge. — 555 
 
 Hence, brain-sick fool !' — He raised his bow : — 
 
 ' Now, if thoii strik'st her but one blow, 
 
 I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far 
 
 As ever peasant pitched a bar ! ' 
 
 * Thanks, champion, thanks !' the Maniac cried. 
 And pressed her to Fitz-James's side. 561 
 
 * See the gray pennons I prepare, 
 
 To seek my true-love through the air ! 
 
 I will not lend that savage groom, 
 
 To break his fall, one downy phime t 565 
 
 No ! — deep amid disjointed stones, 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO IV. 
 
 The wolves shall batten on his bones, 
 
 And then shall his detested plaid» 
 
 By bush and brier in mid air staid, 
 
 Wave forth a banner fair and free, 670 
 
 Meet signal for their revelry,' — 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 • Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still I' — 
 
 • ! thou look'st kindly, and I will. — 
 Mine eye has dried and wasted been. 
 
 But still it loves the Lincoln green ; 575 
 
 And, though mine ear is all unstrung, 
 Still, still it loves the Lowland tongue. 
 
 ' For my sweet William was forester true. 
 He stole poor Blanche's heart away ! 
 
 His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, 580 
 
 And so bhthely he trilled the Lowland lay ! 
 
 ' It was not that I meant to tell . . . 
 
 But thou art wise, and guessest well.' 
 
 Then, in a low and broken tone. 
 
 And hurried note, the song went on. 585 
 
 Still on the Clansman, fearfully. 
 
 She hxcd her apprehensive eye ; 
 
 Then turned it on tho Knight, and then 
 
 Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 • The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, 
 
 Ever sing merrily, merrily ; 501 
 
 The bows they bend, and the knives they wbet, 
 Hunters live so cheerily. 
 
 ' It was a stag, a stag of ten, 
 
 Bearing his branches sturdily ; 595 
 
 He came stately down the glen, 
 
 Ever sing hardily, hardily. 
 
CANTO IV.J THE PROPHECY. tt 
 
 ' It was there he met with a wounded doe, 
 
 She was bleeding deathfuUy ; 
 She warned hinfK)f the toils below, 600 
 
 0, so faithfully, faithfully ! 
 
 • He had an eye, and he could heed, 
 
 Ever sing warily, warily ; 
 He had a foot, and he could speed — 
 
 Hunters watch so narrowly.' 606 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Fitz-James's mind was passion-tossed, 
 
 When Ellen's hints and fears were lost ; 
 
 But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought. 
 
 And Blanche's song conviction brought. — 
 
 Not liLe a stag that spies the snare, 610 
 
 But lion of the hunt aware, 
 
 He waved at once his blade on high, 
 
 ' Disclose thy treachery, or die !' 
 
 Forth at full speed the Clansman flew. 
 
 But ill his race his bow he drew. 615 
 
 The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest, 
 
 And thrilled in Blanche's faded breast — 
 
 Murdoch of Alpine ! prove ihy speed. 
 
 For ne'er had Alpine's son such need ! 
 
 With heart of lire, and foot of wind, 620 
 
 The fierce avenger is behind ! 
 
 Fate judges of the rapid strife — 
 
 The forfeit death — the prize is life ! 
 
 Thy kindred ambush lies before. 
 
 Close couched upon the heathery moor ; 625 
 
 Them could'st thou reach ! — it may not be — 
 
 Thine ambushed kin thou ne'er shalt see. 
 
 The fiery Saxon gains on thee ! 
 
 — Eesistless speeds the deadly thrust, 
 
 As lightning strikes the pine to dust ; ^30 
 
 With foot and hand Bitz- James must strain. 
 
 Ere he can win his blade again. 
 
 Bent o'er the fall'n, with falcon eye, 
 
 He grimly smiled to see him die ; 
 
22 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. j CANTO IV. 
 
 Then slower wended back his way. 635 
 
 Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 She sate beneath the birchen tree, 
 
 Her elbow resting on hcff knee ; 
 
 She had withdrawn the fatal shaft, 
 
 And gazed on it, and feebly laughed ; 640 
 
 Her wreath of broom and feathers gray 
 
 Daggled with blood, beside her lay. 
 
 The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried — 
 
 ' Stranger, it is in vain !' she cried. 
 
 ' This hour of death has given me more 645 
 
 Of reason's power than years before ; 
 
 For, as these ebbing veins decay, 
 
 My frenzied visions fade away. 
 
 A helpless injured wretch I die, 
 
 And somethin^^tells me in thine eye, 650 
 
 That thou wert mine avenger born. — 
 
 Seest thou this tress ? — ! still I've worn 
 
 This little tress of yellow hair. 
 
 Through danger, frenzy, and despair ! 
 
 It once was bright and clear as thine, 655 
 
 But blood and tears have dimmed its shine. 
 
 I will not tell thee when 'twas shred. 
 
 Nor from what guiltless victim's head — 
 
 My brain would turn ! — but it shall wave 
 
 Like plumage on thy helmet brave, r»(<t 
 
 Till sun and wind shall bleach and stain. 
 
 And thou wilt bring it me again. — 
 
 I waver still. — God ! more bright 
 
 Let reason beam her parting light ! — 
 
 ! by thy knighthood's honoured sign, G; "> 
 
 And for thy life preserved by mine, 
 
 When thou shalf see a darksome mao, 
 
 Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's clan, 
 
 With tartans broad and shadowy plume, 
 
 And hand of blood, and brow of gloom, 570 
 
 Be thy heart hold, thy weapon strong, 
 
 And Nvi-eak poor Blanche of Devan's wrong 1 — 
 
CANTO IV.] THE PBOPHECY. 28 
 
 They watch for thee by pess and fell . . . 
 Avoid the path . . . O God 1 . . . farewell.' 
 
 XXVIU. 
 
 A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James ; 676 
 
 Fast poured his eyes at pity's claims, 
 
 And now, with mingled grief and ire, 
 
 He saw the murdered maid expire. 
 
 ' God, in my need, be my relief. 
 
 As I wreak this on yonder Chief 1* 680 
 
 A lock from Blanche's tresses fair 
 
 He blended with her bridegroom's hair ; 
 
 The mingled braid in blood he dyed, 
 
 And placed it on his bonnet-side : 
 
 • By Him, whose word is truth ! I swear, 685 
 
 No other favour will I wear, 
 
 Till this sad token I imbrue 
 
 In the best blood of Roderick Dhu ! 
 
 — But hark ! what means yor faint halloo ? 
 
 The chase is up — but they shall know, 690 
 
 The stag at bay's a dangerous foe.' 
 
 Barred from the known but guarded way, 
 
 Through copse and cliffs Fitz-James must stray, 
 
 And oft must change his desperate track. 
 
 By stream aad precipice turned back. 695 
 
 Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length, 
 
 From lack of food and loss of strength. 
 
 He couched him in a thicket hoar, 
 
 And thought his toils and perils o'er : — 
 
 ' Of all my rash adventures past, 700 
 
 This frantic feat must prove the last ! 
 
 Who o'er so mad but might have guassed, 
 
 That all this Highland hornet's nest 
 
 Would muster up in swarms so soon 
 
 As e'er they heard of bands at Doune ? — 706 
 
 Like bloodhounds now they search me out — 
 
 Hark, to the whistle and the shout ! — 
 
 If farther through the wilds I go, 
 
 I only fall upon the foe : 
 
24 THE LADY OF THE LAKK [cANTO IV. 
 
 I'll couch me here till evening gray, 710 
 
 Then darkling try my dangerous way.' 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The shades of eve come slowly down, 
 
 The woods are wrapt in deeper brown, 
 
 The owl awakens from her dell. 
 
 The fox is heard upon the fell ; 715 
 
 Enough remains of glimmering light 
 
 To guide the wanderer's steps aright. 
 
 Yet not enough from far to shew 
 
 His figure to the watchful foe. 
 
 With cautious step, and ear awake, 720 
 
 He climbs the crag and threads the brake ; 
 
 And not the summer solstice, there, 
 
 Tempered the midnight mountain air, 
 
 But every breeze that swept the wold, 
 
 Benumbed his drenched limbs with cold. 725 
 
 In dread, in danger, and alone. 
 
 Famished and chilled, through ways unknown. 
 
 Tangled and steep, he journeyed on ; 
 
 Till, as a rock's huge point he turned, 
 
 A watch-fire close before him burned. 730 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Beside its embers red and clear, 
 
 Basked, in his plaid, a mountaineer ; 
 
 And up he sprung with sword in hand — 
 
 ' Thy name and purpose ! Saxon, stand 1* — 
 
 ' A stranger.' — * What dost thou require ?' — 735 
 
 * Rest and a guide, and food and fire. 
 My life's beset, my path is lost. 
 
 The gale has chilled my limbs with frost.' — 
 
 ' Art thou a friend to Roderick ?' — ' No. ' — 
 
 ' Thou darest not call thyself a foe ?' — 740 
 
 *I dare ! to him and all the band 
 
 He brings to aid his murderous hand.' — 
 
 * Bold words ! — but, though the beast of gam« 
 The privilege of chase may claim, 
 
CANTO IV.J THE PROPHECY. 
 
 Though space and law the stag we lend, 745 
 
 Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, 
 
 Who ever recked, where, how, or when, 
 
 The prowling fox vras trapped or slain ? 
 
 Thus treacherous scouts — yet sure they lie. 
 
 Who say thou earnest a secret spy !' 750 
 
 ' They do, by Heaven ! — Come lloderick Dhu, 
 
 And of his clan the boldest two. 
 
 And let me but till morning rest, 
 
 I write the falsehood on their crest.' — 
 
 * If by the blaze I mark aright, 755 
 Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight.' — 
 
 * Then by these tok( ns mayst thou know 
 Each proud opprc? or's mortal foe.' — 
 
 * Enough, enough ; sit down and share 
 
 A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare.' 760 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 He gave him of his Highland cheer, 
 
 The hardened flesh of mountain deer ; 
 
 Dry fuel on the fire he laid, 
 
 And bade the Saxon share his plaid. 
 
 He tended him Uke welcome guest, 766 
 
 Then thus his further speech addressed: — 
 
 ' Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu, 
 
 A clansman born, a kinsman true ; 
 
 Each word against his honour spoke, 
 
 Demands of me avenging stroke ; 770 
 
 Yet more — upon my fate, 'tis said, 
 
 A mighty augury is laid. 
 
 It rests with me to wind my horn — 
 
 Thou art with numbers overborne ; 
 
 It rests with me, here, brand to brand, 776 
 
 Worn as thou ait, to bid thee stand: 
 
 But, not for clan, nor kindred cause, 
 
 Will I depart ixom honour's laws ; 
 
 To assail a wearied man were shame, 
 
 And stranger is a holy name ; 780 
 
 Guidance and rest, and food and fire. 
 
 In vain he never must require. 
 
26 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [OANTO !▼• 
 
 Then rest thee here till dawn oi Jay ; 
 
 Myself will guide thee on the way, 
 
 O'er stock and stone, through watch and ward, 
 
 rill past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard, 786 
 
 As far as Coilantogle's ford; 
 
 From thence thy warrant is thy sword.' — 
 
 ' I take thy courtesy, by Heaven, 
 
 As freely as 'tis nobly given !' — 790 
 
 ♦ Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry 
 
 Sings us the lake's wild lullaby.' 
 
 With that he shook the gathered heath. 
 
 And spread his plaid upon the wreath ; 
 
 And the brave foemen, side by side, 796 
 
 Lay peaceful down like brothers tried. 
 
 And slept until the dawning beam 
 
 I'urpled the mountain and the stream. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 FORTH CANTO. 
 
 The Taghairm called; by which, afar, 
 Our sires foresaw the evmits v/ war. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza iv. 
 
 The Highlanders, like all rude people, had various super- 
 Bt-tious modes of inquiriut; into fntnritj'. 
 
 The choicest of the prey we had, 
 When swept our merry-men Gallangad, 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza iv. 
 
 I know not if it be worth observing, that this passage is 
 taken almost litv rally from the mouth of an old Highland 
 Kern, or Ketteron. as they were called. He used to narrate 
 the merry doings of the good old time when he was a fol- 
 lower of Rob Roy Macgregor. 
 
 that huge cliff, ivhose ample verge 
 
 Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza v. 
 
 There is a rock so named in the forest of Glenfinlas, by 
 which a tumultuous cataract takes its course. 
 
 That, watching while the deer is broke. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza v. 
 
 Everything belonging to the chase was a matter of solem- 
 nity among our ancestors, but nothing was more so than 
 cutting up, or, as it was technically called, breaking, the 
 slaughtered stag. 
 
 Which spills the foremost foetnan's life, 
 The party conquers in the strife. 
 
 Canto 4, Stauza vi 
 
 Though this be in the text described as the response of tho 
 Taghairm, or Oracle of the Hide, it was of itself an augury 
 frequently attended to. 
 
28 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO IV. 
 
 Alice Brand. 
 
 Canto I, Stanza xii. 
 
 Tliis little fairytale is founded upon a very curious Danish 
 ballad, which occurs in the Kkmi'K Viski;, a collection of 
 heroic tion^js, first published in ir/.>l, and reprinted in 1G05, 
 inscribed by Anders .Solrensen, the collector and editor, to 
 Sophia, Queen of Denmark. 
 
 Up spoke the moody Elfin Kinfj. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza xiii. 
 The Daoine Shi', or Men of peace, of the Highlanders, 
 though not absolutely malevolent, are believed to be a 
 peevish, repining race of beings, who, possessing themselves 
 but a scanty portion of happiness, are supposed to envy 
 mankind their more complete and substantial enjoyment. 
 They are supposed to enjoy, in their subterraneous recesses, 
 a sort of shadowy happiness, — a tinsel grandeur; which, 
 however, they would willingly exchange for the more solid 
 joys of mortality. 
 
 Why soimds yon stroke on heech and oak. 
 Our moonlight circle screen ? 
 
 Canto 4. Stanza xiii. 
 
 It has been already observed that fairies, if not positively 
 malevolent, were capricious, and easily offended. 
 
 Or who may dare 07i wold to wear, 
 Tlie fairies' fatal green. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza xiii. 
 
 As the Daoine ShV, or Men of Peace, wore green habits, 
 they were supposed to take offence when any mortals ven- 
 tured to assume their favourite colour. 
 
 jPor tlioy wert christened man. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza xiii. 
 
 The elves were supposed greatly to envy the privileges 
 acquired by Christian initiation, and they gave to those 
 mortals who had fallen into their power, a certain prece- 
 dence, founded upon this advantageous distinction. 
 
 And gaily shines the fairy land, 
 But all is glistening shoiv. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza xv. 
 
 No fact respecting fairy land seems to be better ascer- 
 tained than the fantastic and illusory nature of their 
 apparent pleasure and splendour. 
 
 1 sunk down in a sinful fray, 
 
 And 'twixt life "nd death it icas snatched away 
 To the joyless elfin power. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza xv. 
 
CANTO IV ] NOTES. 2^' 
 
 The subjects of fairy land were recruited from the rogioii-> 
 of humanity by a sort of crimping system, which extended 
 to adults as well as to infants. Many of those who wore in 
 this world supposed to have discharged the debt of nature, 
 had only become denizens of the " Londe of Faery." 
 
 Though space aiid law the stag we lend. 
 
 IVhoever reclc'd where, how, and when 
 The proivling fox was trap2yd and slain ? 
 
 • Canto 4, Stanza xxx. 
 
 St. John aatually used this illu' iration when engaged in 
 confuting the plea of law proposed for the unfortunate Kavi 
 of Strafford. 
 
 -his Highland cheer, 
 
 The harden' d flesh of mountain deer. 
 
 Canto 4, Stanza xxxi. 
 The Scottish Highlanders, in former times, had a concise 
 mode of cooking tlieir venison, or rather of dispensing witli 
 cooking it, which appears greatly to hnve surprised thv 
 French, whom chance made actiuuiiitcd with it. 
 
 ■ND OF rOUBTH CANTO, 
 

 WITH NOTES. 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 THE COMBAT. 
 
 ^ 
 
 TORONTO : 
 
 W. WARWICK, WELLINGTON STREET EAST. 
 
 1876. 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 THE 003i^B.A-T. 
 
 I. 
 
 Fair as the earliest beam of eastern liglit, 
 
 "When hrst, by the bewildered pilgrim spied. 
 It smiles upon the dreary brow of night, 
 
 And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide, 
 And lights the fearful path on mountain side ; — 5 
 
 Fair as that beam, although the fairest far, 
 Giving to horror grace, to danger pride, 
 
 Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star, 
 Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow 
 of war. 
 
 n. 
 
 That early beam, so fair and sheen, 10 
 
 Was twinkling through the hazel screen, 
 
 When rousing at its glimmer red, 
 
 The warriorfe*left their lowly bed, 
 
 Looked out upon the dappled sky, 
 
 Muttered their soldier matins by, 15 
 
 And then awaked their fire, to steal. 
 
 As short and rude, their soldier meal. 
 
 That o'er, the Gael* around him threw 
 
 * The Scottish Highlander calls himself Oa^l, or Gaul, and 
 terms the Lowlanders, Sassenacht or Saxons. 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. fCANTO V. 
 
 His graceful plaid of varied hue, 
 
 And, true to promise, led the way, SO 
 
 By tliicket green and mountain gray ; 
 
 A "wildering path ! — they winded now 
 
 Along the precipice's brow, 
 
 Commanding the rich scenes beneath, 
 
 The windings of the Forth and Teith, 25 
 
 And all the vales between that lie, 
 
 Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky ; 
 
 Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance 
 
 Gained not the length of horseman's lance, 
 
 'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 30 
 
 Assistance from the hand to gain ; 
 
 So tangled oft, that, bursting through, 
 
 Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew, — 
 
 That diamond dew, so pure and clear, 
 
 It rivals all but Beauty's tear ! • 35 
 
 m. 
 
 At lengtli they came where, stern and steep, 
 
 The hill sinks down upon the deep ; 
 
 Here Vennachar in silver flows, 
 
 There, ridge on ridge, Benlodi rose ; 
 
 Ever the hollow path twined on, 40 
 
 Beneath steep bunk and threatening stone ; 
 
 A hundred men might hold the post 
 
 With hardihood against a host ; 
 
 The rugged mountain's scanty cloak 
 
 Was dwarlish shrubs of birch and oak, 45 
 
 With shingles bare, and cliii's between. 
 
 And patches bright of bracken green, 
 
 And heather black that waved so high, 
 
 It held the copse in rivalry ; 
 
 But where the lake slept deep and still, 60 
 
 Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill ; 
 
 And oft both path and hill were torn, 
 
 Where wintry torrent down had borne, 
 
 And heaped upon the cumbered land 
 
 Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and spnd. 05 
 
 So toilsome was the road to trace, 
 
CANTO v.] THE COMBAT. tf 
 
 The gnide abating of his pace, 
 
 Led slowly through the pass's jaws, 
 
 And asked Fitz-James, by what strange cnnso 
 
 He sought these wilds ? traversed by few, 60 
 
 Without a pass from Eoderick Dhu. 
 
 IV. 
 
 "Brave Gael, my "-^.ss, in danger tried, 
 
 Hangs in my belt, and by my side ; 
 
 Yet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said, 
 
 " I dreamed not now to claim its aid. 65 
 
 When here, but three days since, I came, 
 
 Bewildered in pursuit of game, 
 
 All seemed as peaceful and as still, 
 
 As the mist slumbering on yon hill ; 
 
 Thy dangerous Chief was then afar, 70 
 
 Nor soon expected back from war. 
 
 Thus said, at least, my mountain guide, 
 
 Though deep, perchance, the villain Ued." 
 
 "Yet why a second venture try ? " 
 
 " A warrior thou, and ask me why? 76 
 
 troves our free course bv such fixed cause 
 
 As gives the poor mechanic laws ? 
 
 Enough, I sought to drive away 
 
 The lazy hours of peaceful day ; 
 
 Slight cause will then suffice to guide 80 
 
 A knight's free footsteps far and wide, — 
 
 A falcon flown, a gi'cyhound strayed, 
 
 The merry glance of mountain maid ; 
 
 Or, if a path be dangerous known. 
 
 The danger's self is lure alone." — 85 
 
 V. 
 
 *• Thy secret keep, I urge thee not : — 
 
 Yet, ere again ye sought this spot. 
 
 Say, heard ye not of lowland war, 
 
 Against Clan- Alpine raised by Mar ? " 
 
 " — No, by my word ; of bands prepared 9Q 
 
 To guard King James's sports I heard ; 
 
6 THE LADY OP THE LAKE. [CANTO V. 
 
 Nor doubt I anght, but, when they hear 
 
 This muster of the mountaineer, 
 
 Their pennons will abroad be flung, 
 
 Which else in Doune had peaceful hung." 95 
 
 " Free be they flung ! for we were loth 
 
 Their silken folds should feast the moth. 
 
 Free be they flung ! — as free shall wave 
 
 Clan Alpine's pine in banner brave. 
 
 But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, 100 
 
 Bewildered in the mountain game, 
 
 Wlience the bold boast by which you show 
 
 Vich-Alpine's vowed and mortal foe ? " 
 
 '* Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew 
 
 Nought of the Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 105 
 
 Save as an outlaw'd desperate man, 
 
 The chief of a rebellious clan. 
 
 Who, in the RegenVs court and sight, 
 
 With rufiian dagger stabbed a knight ; 
 
 Yet this alone might from his part 110 
 
 Sever each true and loyal heart." 
 
 VI. 
 
 Wrathful at such arraignment foul. 
 
 Dark lowered the Clansman's sable scowl ; 
 
 A space he paused, then sternly said, — 
 
 " And heard' st thou why he drew his blade ? 115 
 
 Heard 'st thou that shameful word and blow 
 
 Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe ? 
 
 What reck'd the Chieftain, if he stood 
 
 On Highland heath, or Holy-Rood ? 
 
 He rights such wrong where it is given, 120 
 
 If it were in the court of heaven ! " 
 
 " Still was it outrage ; — yet, 'tis true. 
 
 Not then claimed sovereignty his due ; 
 
 While Albany, with feeble hand. 
 
 Held borrowed truncheon of command, 125 
 
 The young King, mew'd in Stirling tower 
 
 Was stranger to respect and power. 
 
 But then, thy Chieftain's robber-life ! — 
 
 Winning mean prey by causeless strife, 
 
OANTO v.] THE COMBAT. % 
 
 Wrenching from mined lowland swain, j 3(. 
 
 His herds and harvest reared in vain — 
 Methinks a soul like thine, should pcorn 
 The spoils from such foul foray borne." 
 
 vn. 
 
 The Gael beheld him grim the while, 
 
 And answered with disdaiufiil smile, — 131 
 
 *' Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
 
 I marked thee send delighted eye, 
 
 Far to the south and east, where lay, 
 
 Extended in succi . sion gay, 
 
 Deep waving fields and pastures green, 140 
 
 With gentle slopes and groves between l — 
 
 These fertile plains, that softened vale, 
 
 Were once the birthright of the Gael ; 
 
 The stranger came with iron hand. 
 
 And from our fathers reft the land. 145 
 
 Where dwell we now ! See, rudely swell 
 
 Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell* 
 
 Ask we this savage hill we tread. 
 
 For fattened steer or household bread ; 
 
 Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, l50 
 
 And well the mountain might reply — 
 
 •' To you as to your sires of yore. 
 
 Belong the target and claymore ! 
 
 I give you shelter in my breast, 
 
 Your own good blades must win the rest.*' 156 
 
 Pent in the fortress of the North, 
 
 Think'st thou we will not sally forth. 
 
 To spoil the spoiler as we may. 
 
 And from the robl or rend the prey ? 
 
 Aye, by my soul !— ^hile on yon plain IGO 
 
 The Saxon rears one shock of grain ; 
 
 While, of ten thousand herds, there strays 
 
 But one along yon river's maze, — 
 
 The Gael, of plain and river heir, 
 
 Shall with strong hand, redeem his share. 165 
 
 Where lives the mountain chiefs wlh. In. 1.1, 
 
 That plundering Lowland Held and loli 
 
8 THE LADY OF THE LAKE [CANTO V. 
 
 Is aught but retribution true ? 
 
 Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Answered Fitz- James, — " And, if I sought, 170 
 
 Think'st thou no other could be brought ? 
 
 "What deem ye of my path way-laid, 
 
 My life given o'er to ambuscade ? " 
 
 " As of a need to rashness due : 
 
 Hadst thou sent warning fair and true, — 176 
 
 I seek my hound, or falcon strayed, 
 
 I seek, good faith, a Highland maid, 
 
 Free hadst thou been to come and go, 
 
 l>ut secret path marks secret foe. 
 
 Nor yet, for this, even as a spy, 180 
 
 Hadst thou, unheard, being doomed to die. 
 
 Save to fulfill an augiu'y," — 
 
 *' Well, let it pass ; nor will I now 
 
 Fresh cause of enmity avow. 
 
 To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow : 186 
 
 Enough, I am by promise tied 
 
 To match me with this man of pride : 
 
 Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glon 
 
 In peace ; but when I come agen, 
 
 I come with banner, brand and bow, 190 
 
 As leader seeks his mortal foe ! 
 
 For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower. 
 
 Ne'er panted for th' appointed hour. 
 
 As I, until before me stand 
 
 This rebel Chieftain and his band." — 195 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Have, then, thy wish !" — he whistled shrill, 
 
 And he was answered from the hill ; 
 
 Wild as the scream of the curfew, 
 
 From crag to crag the signal flew ; 
 
 Instant, through copse and heath, arose 200 
 
 Bonnets, and spears, and bended bows ; 
 
 On right, on left, above, below, 
 
CANTO v.] THE COMBAT. 9 
 
 Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 
 
 From shingles gray their lances stmt, 
 
 The bracken bush sends forth the dart, 205 
 
 The rushes and the willow wand 
 
 Are bristling into axe and brand, 
 
 And every tuft of broom gives Ufe 
 
 To plaided warrior armed for strife. 
 
 That whistle garrison'd the glen 210 
 
 At once with full five hundred men, 
 
 As if the yawning hill to heaven 
 
 A subterranean hcyt had given, 
 
 "NVatching their leader's beck and will. 
 
 All silent there they stood and still ; 215 
 
 Like the loose crags whose threatening mass 
 
 Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, 
 
 As if an infant's touch could urge 
 
 Their headlong passage down the verge, 
 
 With step and weapon forward flung, 220 
 
 Upon the mountain side they hung. 
 
 The mountaineer cast glance of pride 
 
 Along Benledi's living side, 
 
 Til en fixed his eye and sable brow 
 
 Full on Fitz-James — "How say'st thou now? 225 
 
 These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true ; 
 
 And, Saxon, — I am Roderick Dhu ! " — 
 
 X. 
 
 Fitz-James was brave ; — Though to his heart 
 
 The life-blood thrilled with sudden start : 
 
 He mann'd himself with dauntless air, 230 
 
 Returned the Chief his haughty stare, 
 
 His back against a rock he bore. 
 
 And firmly placed his foot before : — 
 
 " Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly 
 
 From its firm base as soon as L" — 235 
 
 Sir Roderick marked — and in his eyes 
 
 Respect was mingled with surprise, 
 
 And the stern joy which warriors feel 
 
 In foemen worthy of their steel. 
 
 Short space he stood — then waved his hand : 240 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE [CANTO V. 
 
 Down Bunk the disappearing band ; 
 
 Each warrior vanished where he stood, 
 
 In broom and bracken, heath or wood ; 
 
 Sunk brand and spear and bended bow, 
 
 In osiers pale and copses low ; 245 
 
 It seemed as if their mother Earth 
 
 Had swallowed up her warlike birth ; 
 
 The wind's last breath had tossed in air, 
 
 Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair, — 
 
 The next but swept the lone hUl-side, 250 
 
 Where heath and fern were waving wide ; 
 
 The sun's last glance were glinted back, 
 
 From spear and glaive, from targe and jack, — 
 
 The next, all unreflected, shone 
 
 On bracken green, and cold gray stone. 255 
 
 XI. 
 
 Fitz-James looked round — yet scarce believed 
 
 The witness that his sight received ; 
 
 Such apparition well might seem 
 
 Delusion of a dreadful dream ; 
 
 Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, 260 
 
 And to his look the Chief replied, 
 
 " Fear nought — nay, that I need not say — 
 
 But — doubt not aught from mine array. 
 
 Thou art my guest ; — 1 pledged my word 
 
 As far as Coilantogle ford : 265 
 
 Nor would 1 call a clansman's brand 
 
 For aid against one valient hand. 
 
 Though on our strife lay every vale 
 
 Rent by the Saxon from the Gael ; 
 
 So move we on ; — I only meant 270 
 
 To show the reed on which you leant, 
 
 Deeming this path you might pursue 
 
 Without a pass from Roderick Dhu." — 
 
 They moved : — I said Fitz-James was brave. 
 
 As ever knight that belted glaive ; 275 
 
 Yet dare not say, that now his blood 
 
 Kept on its wont and tempered flood, 
 
 ASi lollowing iiodeiiok's stride he drew 
 
CANTO V.j THE COMBAT. H 
 
 Tliat seeming lonesome pathway through, 
 
 Which yet, by fearful proof was rife 280 
 
 With lances that, to take his life 
 
 Waited but signal from a guide, 
 
 So late dishonoured and defied ; 
 
 Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round 
 
 The "vanished guardians of the ground, 285 
 
 And still from copse and heather deep, 
 
 Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep, 
 
 And in the plover's shrilly strain. 
 
 The signal whistle heard again ; 
 
 Nor breathed he free till far behind 290 
 
 The pass was left; for then they wind 
 
 Along a wild and level green. 
 
 Where neither tree nor tuft was seen. 
 
 Nor rush, nor bush of broom was near, 
 
 To hide a bonnet or a spear. 205 
 
 XII. 
 
 The Chief in silence strode before, 
 
 And reached the torrent's sounding shore, 
 
 Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, 
 
 From Vennachar in silver breaks. 
 
 Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 300 
 
 On Bochastle the mouldering lines. 
 
 Where Eome, the Empress of the world, 
 
 Of yore her eagle wings uufurl'd. 
 
 And here his course, the Chieftain staid. 
 
 Threw down his target and his inlaid, 305 
 
 And to the Lowland warrior said: — 
 
 '' Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, 
 
 Vich-Alpuie has discharged his trust ; 
 
 This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, 
 
 This head of a rebellious clan, 310 
 
 Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward. 
 
 Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard ; 
 
 Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 
 
 A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel; 
 
 See here, all vantageless I stand, 315 
 
 Armed like tl: /self, with single Irauu ; 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO V. 
 
 For this is Coilantogle ford, 
 
 And thou must keep thee with thy sword." — 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Tlie Saxon paused: — "I ne'er delayed, 
 
 When foeman bade mo draw my blade ; 320 
 
 Nay more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death : 
 
 Yet sure thy fair and ^f^nerous faith, 
 
 And my deep debt for life preserved, 
 
 A better meed have well deserved : — 
 
 Can nought but blood our feud atone? 325 
 
 Are there no means" — "No, Stranger, none! 
 
 And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — 
 
 The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; 
 
 For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred 
 
 Between the liviug and the dead ; 330 
 
 *Who spills the foremost foeman's life, 
 
 His party conquers in the strife.'" — 
 
 "Then, by my word," the Saxon said, 
 
 " The riddle is already read ; 
 
 Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — 335 
 
 There lies Eed Murdock, stark and stiff ; 
 
 Thus Fate has solved her prophecy. 
 
 Then vield to Fate, and not to me ; 
 
 To James, at Stirling, let us go, 
 
 When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 810 
 
 Or if the King shall not agree 
 
 To grant thee grace and favour free, 
 
 I plight mine honour, oath and word. 
 
 That, to thy native strengths restored, 
 
 With each advantage shalt thou stand, ?lo 
 
 That aids thee now to guard thy land," — 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Dark lightning flashed from Pvodc-rick's eye, 
 
 " Soars thy presumption then so high, 
 
 Because a wretched kern ye slew, 
 
 Homage to name to Roderick Dhu ? 3-^0 
 
 He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ? 
 
CANTO v.] THE COMBAT. 13 
 
 Tliou add'st but fuel to my hate : — 
 
 My clansman's blood demands revenge. — 
 
 Not yet prepared ? — By heaven, I change 
 
 My thou<,'ht, and hold thy valour light 355 
 
 As that of some vain carpet-knight, 
 
 Who ill deserved my courteous care, 
 
 And whose best boast is but to wear 
 
 A braid of his fair lady's hair." — 
 
 " I thank thee, Koderick, for the word ! 360 
 
 It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; 
 
 For I have sworn this braid to stain 
 
 In the best blood that warms thy vein. 
 
 Now, truce, farewell ! and ruth, begone! 
 
 Yet think not that by thee alone, 36.0 
 
 Proud Chief ! can couriesy be shewn; 
 
 Though not from coi)se, or heath, or cairn, 
 
 Start at my whistle clansmen stern, 
 
 Of this small horn one feeble blast 
 
 Would fearful odds against tlioe cast. 370 
 
 Bat fear not — Jt»ubt not — which tl^ou wilt — 
 
 We try this quarrel hilt to hilt." — 
 
 Then each at once his falchion drew, 
 
 Each on the ground his scabbard threw, 
 
 Each looked to sun, and stream and plain 37") 
 
 As what they ne'er might see ag.iin : 
 
 Then. foot, and point, and eyt- opposed, 
 
 In dubious strife they darkly closed. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu, 
 
 That on the field his targe he threw, 380 
 
 Whose brazen studs and tough buU-hidG 
 
 Had death so often dashed aside ; 
 
 For, trained abroad his arms to wield, 
 
 Fitz- James's blade was sword and shield ; 
 
 He practised every pass and ward, o8.' 
 
 To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard ; 
 
 While less expert, though stronger far, 
 
 'the Gael maintained une<pial v.-ar. 
 
 Three times iu closing strife they stood, 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO V. 
 
 And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood ; 390 
 
 No stinted draught, no scanty tide, 
 
 Tlie gushing floods the tartans dyed. 
 
 Vierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, 
 
 And showered his blows like wintry rain ; 
 
 And, as firm rock, or castle-roof, 395 
 
 Against the winter shower is proof, 
 
 The foe, invulnerable still, 
 
 Foiled his wild rage by steady skill ; 
 
 Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand 
 
 Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, 400 
 
 And, backwards borne upon the lea. 
 
 Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 "Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made 
 
 The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade !" — 
 
 " T]iy threats, thy mercy, 1 defy ! 405 
 
 Let recreant yield, who fears to die." — 
 
 Like adder darting from his coil. 
 
 Like wolf that dashes through the toil. 
 
 Like mountain-cat who guards her young, 
 
 Full at Fitz-James's throat he sprung, 410 
 
 Received, but reck'd not of a wound. 
 
 And locked his arms his foeman round. — 
 
 Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own ! 
 
 No maiden's hand is round thee thrown ! 
 
 That desperate grasp thy frame might feci, 415 
 
 Through bars of brass and triple steel ! — 
 
 They tug, they strain ! down, down, they go, 
 
 The Gael above, Fitz- James beiow. 
 
 The Chieftain's gripe his throat compress'd, 
 
 His knee was planted in his breast ; 420 
 
 IMt clotted locks he backward threw, 
 
 Across his brow his hand he drew. 
 
 From blood and mist to clear his sight. 
 
 Til en gleam'd aloft his dagger bright ! — 
 
 — But hate and fury ill supphed 425 
 
 Thy stream of life's exausted tide, 
 
 And all too late th' advantage came, 
 
CANTO v.] THE COMBAT. 16 
 
 To turn the odds of deadly game ; 
 
 For, tcrhile the dagger gleam'd on high, 
 
 Reeled soul and sense, reeled brain and oyo. -130 
 
 Down came the blow ! but in the heath 
 
 The erring blade found bloodless sheath. 
 
 The struggling foe may now uncU.sp 
 
 The fainting Chief's relaxing grapp; 
 
 Unwounded from the dreadful close, 435 
 
 But breathless all, Fitz James arose. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 He faltered thanks to Heaven for life, 
 
 Redeemed, unhoped, from desp'rato stiife ; 
 
 Next on his foe his look he cast, 
 
 "Whose every gasp appeared his last ; 440 
 
 In lloderick's gore he dipp'd the braid, — 
 
 " Poor Blanche! thy wrongs are dearly paid; 
 
 Yet ^Yith thy foe must die or live. 
 
 The praise that Faith and Valour give." — 
 
 "With that he blew a bugle-note, 445 
 
 Undid the collar from his throat, 
 
 Unbonnetted, and by the wave 
 
 Sate down, his brow and bauds to lave. 
 
 Then faint afar are heard tbe feet 
 
 Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet ; 450 
 
 The sounds increase, and now are seen 
 
 Four mounted squires in Lincoln green ; 
 
 Two who bear lance, and two who lead, 
 
 By loosened rein, a saddled steed ; 
 
 Each onward held his headlong course, 455 
 
 And by Fitz-James rein'd up his hort;e, — 
 
 With wonder view'd the bloody spot — 
 
 — "Exclaim not, gallants ! question not.— 
 
 You, Herbert and Luffncss, aUght, 
 
 And bind the wounds of yonder knight ; 460 
 
 liOt the gray palfrey bear his weight, 
 
 V/e destined for a fairer freight. 
 
 And bring him on to Stirling straight -* 
 
 I wuU before at better speed, 
 
 To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 465 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO V 
 
 The sun rides high ; — I must he houne 
 To see the archer-game at noon ; 
 But lightly Bayard clears the lea — 
 De Vaux and Herries, follow me. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " Stand, Bayard, stand !" — the steed oheyed -K*) 
 
 With arching neck and hended liead, 
 
 And glancing eye and quiv'ring ear, 
 
 As if he loved his lord to hear. 
 
 No foot Fitz-James in sthrup staid, 
 
 No grasp upon the saddle laid, 47.'> 
 
 But wreathed his left hand in the mane, 
 
 And lightly bounded from the plain, 
 
 Turned on the horse his armed heol. 
 
 And stirred his courage with the steel. 
 
 Bounded the fiery steed in air, 480 
 
 The rider sat erect and fair. 
 
 Then, like a holt from steel cross bow 
 
 Forth launched, along the plain they go. 
 
 They dashed that rapid torrent througli, 
 
 And up Carhonie's hill they flew ; 485 
 
 Htill at the gallop pricked the Knight, 
 
 His merry men follow as they might. 
 
 Along thy banks, swift Teith ! they ride, 
 
 And in the race they mock thy tide ; 
 
 Torry and Lendrick now are past, 490 
 
 And Deanstown lies behind them cast ; 
 
 They rise, the bannered towers of Doune, 
 
 T liey sink in distant woodland soon ; 
 
 Blair-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire, 
 
 They sweep like breeze throngli Ochtoii^ie ; 495 
 
 They mark, just glance and disappear, 
 
 The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; 
 
 Tliey bathe their coursers' sweltering sides 
 
 ])ark Forth ! amid thy sluggish tides. 
 
 And on th' opposing shore take ground, 6(>i) 
 
 ^Vith splash, with scramble, and with bound. 
 
 light-hand they leave the cliffs, Craig-Foi th f 
 
 And soon the bulwark of the North, 
 
Canto v.] the combat. 17 
 
 Gray Stirling, with her towers and town, 
 
 Upon their fleet career looked down. 605 
 
 XIX. 
 
 As up the flinty path they strained, 
 
 Sudden his steed" the leader reined ; 
 
 A signal to his squire he flung, 
 
 Who instant to his stirrup sprung : 
 
 " Seest thou, De Yaux, yon woodsman gray 510 
 
 Who townwards holds the rocky way, 
 
 Of stature tall and poor array ? 
 
 Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride, 
 
 With which he scales the mountain side? 
 
 Know'st thou from whence he comes, or w^hom ?"515 
 
 " No, by my word ; — a burly groom 
 
 He seems, who in the field or chase 
 
 A Baron's train would nobly grace." — 
 
 " Out, out, De Vaux! can fear supply, 
 
 And jealousy, no sharper eye? 520 
 
 Afar, ere to the hill he drew. 
 
 That stately form and step I knew; 
 
 Like form in Scotland is not seen. 
 
 Treads not such step on Scottish green. 
 
 'Tis James of Douglas, by Saint Serle ! 625 
 
 The uncle of thi banished Earl. 
 
 Aw^ay, away, to court, to show 
 
 The near approach of dreaded foe : 
 
 The King must stand upon his guard ; 
 
 Douglas and he must meet prepared." — 530 
 
 Then right-hand wheeled their steeds, and 
 
 straight 
 They won the castle's postern gate. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Douglas who had bent his way 
 
 From Cambus-Kenneth's abbey gray, 
 
 Now, as he clin>bed the rocky shelf, C35 
 
 Held sad communion with himself : — • 
 
 " ^ es ! all is true my fears could frame ; 
 
18 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO V. 
 
 A prisoner lies the noble Grneme, 
 
 Aud fiery Boderick soon will feel 
 
 The vengeance of the royal steel. 540 
 
 I, only I, can ward their fate, — 
 
 God grant the ransom come not late ! 
 
 The Abbess hath her promise given, 
 
 My child shall be the bride of Heaven ; 
 
 — Be pardoned one repining tear ! 545 
 
 For He who gave her, knows how dear, 
 
 How excellent — but that is by, 
 
 And now my business is to die. 
 
 — Ye Towers ! within whose circuit dread 
 
 A Douglas by his sovereign bled, 550 
 
 And thou, sad and fatal mound!* 
 
 That oft hast heard the death-axe sound, 
 
 As on the noblest of the land 
 
 Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand,— 
 
 The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb 555 
 
 Prepare, — for Douglas seeks his doom ! 
 
 — But hark! what blithe and jolly peal 
 
 Makes the Franciscan steeple reel ? 
 
 And see ! upon the crowded street, 
 
 In motly groups what maskers meet ! 560 
 
 Banner and pageant, pipe and drum, 
 
 And merry morris-dancers come. 
 
 I guess by all this qua'nt array. 
 
 The burghers hold their sport to-day ; 
 
 James will be there ; he loves such show, 565 
 
 Where the good yeoman bends his bow. 
 
 And the tough wrestler foils his foe, 
 
 As well as where in proud career. 
 
 The high-born tilter shivers spear. 
 
 I'll follow to the Castle-park, 570 
 
 And play my prize ; — King James shall mark. 
 
 If age has changed these sinews stark, 
 
 Whose force so oft in happier days. 
 
 His boyish wonder loved to praise." — 
 
 *An eminence on the north-east of the castle, wheic stat9 
 cviiiiinals were executed. See Note. 
 
CANTO v.] THE COMBAT. 19 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Castle gates were open flung, 675 
 
 The quiv'ring drawbridge rocked and rung, 
 
 And echoed loud the flinty street 
 
 Beneath the coursers' clattering feet, 
 
 As slowly down the steep descent 
 
 Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 680 
 
 Willie aU along the crowded way 
 
 Was jublilee and loud huzza. 
 
 And ever James was bending low, 
 
 To his white jennet's saddle-bow, 
 
 Dt>iling his cap to city dame, 585 
 
 Who smiled and blushed for pride and shame ; 
 
 And well the simperer might be vain, — 
 
 He chose the fairest of the train. 
 
 Gravely he greets each city sire, 
 
 Commends each pageant's quaint attire, 690 
 
 Gives to the dancers thanks aloud, 
 
 And smiles and nods upon the crowd, 
 
 Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, 
 
 " Long live the Commons' King, King James ! " 
 
 Behind the King thronged peer and knight, 595 
 
 And noble dame and damsel bright, 
 
 Whose fiery steeds ill brooked the stay 
 
 Of the steep street and crowded way. 
 
 — But in the train you might discern 
 
 Pnrk lowering brow and visage stern ; 600 
 
 There nobles mourned their pride restrained, 
 
 And the mean burgher's joys disdained ; 
 
 And chiefs who, hostage for their clan. 
 
 Were each from home a banished man, 
 
 'J here thought upon their own gray tower, C05 
 
 Their waving woods, their feudal power. 
 
 At id deemed themselves a shameful part 
 
 Of pageant which they cursed in heart. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Now, in the Castle-park, drew out 
 
 Their chequered bands the joyous route. 610 
 
20 THE LAP 7 OF THE LAKE. [cANTO V. 
 
 Thero morricers, with bell at heel, 
 
 And blade in hand, their mazes wlic^l ; 
 
 But chief, beside the butts, there stiuid 
 
 Bold Robin Hood and all his band, — 
 
 Friar Tuck with quarter-staff and cowl, 615 
 
 Old Scathelock with his surly scowl, 
 
 Maid Marian, fair as ivory-bone. 
 
 Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John ; 
 
 Their bugles challenge all that will, 
 
 In archery to prove their skill. 620 
 
 The Douglas bent a bow of might, — 
 
 His first shaft centered in the white, 
 
 And when in turn he shot again, 
 
 His second split the first in twain. 
 
 From the King's hand must Douglas take C25 
 
 A silver dart, the arclier's stake ; 
 
 Fondly he watch'd, with watery eye, 
 
 Some answ'ring glance of sympathy, — 
 
 No kind emotion made reply ! 
 
 Indifferent, as to archer wight, C"0 
 
 The Monarch gave the arrow bright. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Now, clear the ring ! for, hand to hand, 
 
 The manly wrestlers take their stand. 
 
 Two o'er the rest superior rose. 
 
 And proud demanded mightier foes, 635 
 
 Nor called in vain ; for Douglas came. 
 
 — For life is Hugh of Larbet lame, 
 
 Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. 
 
 Whom senseless home his comrades bear. 
 
 Prize of the wrestling match, the King 6 10 
 
 To Douglas gave a golden ring, 
 
 ■'r.'hile coldly glanced his eye of blue, 
 
 A.S frozen drop of wintry dew. 
 
 Douglas would speak, but in his breast 
 
 His struggling soul his words suppress'd : 645 
 
 Indignant then he turned him where 
 
 Their arms the brawny yeomen bare, 
 
 To hurl the massive bar in air. 
 
CANTO v.] THE COMBAT. 21 
 
 When each his utmost strength had shown, 
 • The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone 650 
 
 From its deep bed, then heaved it high, 
 And sent the fragment through the sky, 
 A rood beyond the furthest mark ; — 
 And still in Stirling's royal park, 
 The gray-haired sires, who know the past, 655 
 
 To strangers point the Douglast-cast, 
 And moralize on the decay 
 Of Scottish strength in m«dern day. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The vale with loud applauses rang, 
 
 The Ladies' Eock sent back the clang ; C60 
 
 The King, with look unmoved, bestowed 
 
 A purse well filled with pieces broad. 
 
 Indignant smiled the Douglas proud. 
 
 And threw the gold among the crowd, 
 
 Who now, with anxious wonder, scan, 6G5 
 
 And sharper glance, the dark gray man ; 
 
 Till whispers rose among the throng. 
 
 Must to the Douglas blood belong ; 
 
 The old men mark'd, and shook the head, 
 
 To see his hair with silver spread, G70 
 
 And winked aside, and told each son 
 
 Of feats upon the English done, 
 
 Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand 
 
 Was exiled from his native land. 
 
 The women praised his stately form, 075 
 
 Though wreck'd by many a winter's storm ; 
 
 The youth with awe and wonder saw 
 
 His strength surpassing Nature's law. 
 
 Thus judged, as is their wont, the crov.d, 
 
 Till murmur rose to clamours loud. 630 
 
 Lilt not a glance from that proud ring 
 
 Of peers who circled round the King, 
 
 With Douglas held communion kind, 
 
 Or called the banished man to mind : 
 
 No, not from those, who, at the chase, 686 
 
 Once held his side the honoured place, 
 
22 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [ CANTO V. 
 
 Begirt Lis board, and, in the field, 
 
 Found safety undcrneatli bis sbield ; f 
 
 For hfi, whom royal eyes disown, 
 
 When was his form to courtiers known? 690 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The Monarch saw the gambols flag, 
 
 And bade let loose a gallant stag. 
 
 Whose pride, the holiday to crown, 
 
 Two favourite greyhounds should pull down, 
 
 That venison free, and Bordeaux wine, C95 
 
 Vlight serve the archery to dine. 
 
 But Lufra, — whom from Douglas' side 
 
 Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide. 
 
 The fleetest hound in all the North, — 
 
 Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. 700 
 
 She left the royal hounds mid-way, 
 
 And, dashing on the antler'd prey. 
 
 Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank. 
 
 And deep the flowing life-blood di-ank. 
 
 The King's stout huntsman saw the sport 705 
 
 By strange intruder broken short, 
 
 Came up, and, with his leash unbound. 
 
 In anger struck the noble hound. 
 
 — The Douglas had endured, that morn, 
 
 The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn, 710 
 
 At last, and worst to spirit proud. 
 
 Had borne the pity of the crowd ; 
 
 But Lufra had been fondly bred 
 
 To share his board, to watch his bed. 
 
 And oft would Ellen, Lufra's neck, 715 
 
 In maiden glee, with garlands deck ; 
 
 They were such playmates, that with name 
 
 Of Lufra, Ellen's image came. 
 
 His stifled wrath is brimming high. 
 
 In darkened brow and flashing eye ; — 720 
 
 As waves before the bark divide. 
 
 The crowd gave way before his stride ; 
 
 Needs but a buffet and no more, 
 
 The groom lies senseless in his gore. 
 
CANTO v.] THE COMBAT. 23 
 
 Snch blow no other hand conld deal, 725 
 
 Though gauntleted in glove of steel. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then clamoured loud the royal train, 
 
 And brandished swords and staves amain. 
 
 But stern the Baron's warning — " Back I 
 
 Back, on your lives, ye menial pack ! 730 
 
 Beware the Douglas. — "^es ! behold, 
 
 King James, the Douglas, doomed of old, 
 
 And vainly sought for near and far, 
 
 A victim to atone the war, 
 
 A willing victim, now attends, 735 
 
 Nor craves thy grace but for his friends." 
 
 *' Thus is my clemency repaid ? 
 
 Presumptuous Lord I " .the Monarch said ; 
 
 *' Of this mis-proud ambitious clan. 
 
 Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man, 14J0 
 
 The only man, in whom a foe 
 
 My woman-mercy would not know ; 
 
 But shall a Monarch's presence brook 
 
 Injurious blow, and haughty look? — 
 
 What ho ! the Captain of our Guard ! 745 
 
 Give the offender fitting ward, — 
 
 " Break off the sports ; " — for tumult rose, 
 
 And yeomen 'gan to bend their bows, — 
 
 •' Break off the sports ! " — he said and frowned, 
 
 " And bid our horsemen clear the ground." — 750 
 
 xsvn. 
 
 Then uproar wild and misarray 
 
 Marr'd the fair form of festal day. 
 
 The horsemen pricked among the crowd, 
 
 Eepell'd by threats and insult loud ; 
 
 To earth are borne the old and weak, 755 
 
 The timorous fly, the women shriek ; 
 
 With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar. 
 
 The handier urge tumultuous war. 
 
 At once round Douglas darkly sweep 
 
24 THE LADY OF THE LAKK. [ CANTO V. 
 
 The royal spears in circle deep, 760 
 
 And slowly scale the pathway steep ; 
 
 While on the rear in thunder pour 
 
 The rahble with disordered roar. 
 
 With grief the noble Douglas saw 
 
 The coramons rise agninst the !aw, 7G5 
 
 And to the leading soldier said, — 
 
 " Sir John of Hyndford ! "twas my blade, 
 
 That knighthood on thy shoulder laid ; 
 
 i^'or that good deed, permit me then 
 
 A word with these misguided men. — 770 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 "Hear, gentle friends! ere yet, for me, 
 
 Ye break the bands of fealty. 
 
 My life, my honour, and my cause, 
 
 I tender free to Scotland's laws. 
 
 Are these so weak as must require 775 
 
 The aid of your misguided ire ? 
 
 Or, if I suffer causeless wrong, 
 
 Is then my selfish rage so strong, 
 
 My sense of public weal so low, 
 
 That, for mean vengeance on a foe, 780 
 
 Those cords of love I should unbind. 
 
 Which knit my country and my kind? 
 
 Oh no ! Believe, in yonder tower 
 
 It will not soothe my captive hour, 
 
 To know those spears our foes should dread, 785 
 
 For me in kindred gore are red ; 
 
 To know;, in fruitless brawl begun, 
 
 For me, that mother wails her son ; 
 
 For me, that widow's mate expires, 
 
 For me, that orphan's weep their sires, 790 
 
 That patriots mourn insulted laws, 
 
 And curse the Douglas for the cause. 
 
 Oil let your patience ward such ill, 
 
 And keep your right to love me still." — 
 
CANTO V.J THE COMBAT. 25 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The crowd's wdld fury sunk again 706 
 
 In tears, as tempest's melt in rain. 
 
 With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed 
 
 For blessings on his generous head. 
 
 Who for his country felt alone, 
 
 And prized her blood beyond his own. 800 
 
 Old men, upon the verge of life. 
 
 Blessed him who stayed the civil strife ; 
 
 The mothers held their babes on high, 
 
 The self-devoted Chief to spy, 
 
 Triumphant over wrong and ire, 805 
 
 To whom the prattlers owed a sire : 
 
 Ev'n the rough soldier's heart was moved ; 
 
 As if behind some bier beloved, 
 
 Wj'tli trailing arms and drooping head, 
 
 The Douglas up the hill he led, 810 
 
 And at the castle's battled verge, 
 
 With sighs, resigned his honoured charge. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Th' offended Monarch rode apart. 
 With bitter thought and swelling heart. 
 And would not now vouchsafe again, 815 
 
 Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 
 " Lennox, who would wish to rule 
 , This changling crowd, this common fool ? 
 Hear'st thou," he said, "the loud acclaim, 
 With which they shout the Douglas' name ? 820 
 W^ith like acclaim, the vulgar throat 
 Strained for King James their morning note : 
 With like acclaim they hailed the day 
 When first I broke the Douglas' sway ; 
 And like acclaim would Douglas greet, 825 
 
 If he could hurl me from my seat. 
 Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, 
 Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain ! 
 Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 
 And fickle as a changeful dream ; 830 
 
26 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTo V. 
 
 Fantaf?tic as a woman's mooJ, 
 And fierce as frenzy's fevered blood. 
 Thou many-headed monster thing, 
 Oh who would wish to be thy king ! — 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 •' But soft ! what messen^^er of speed G35 
 
 Spurs hitherward his panting steed 
 
 I guess his cognizance afar — 
 
 What from our cousin, John of Mar ?" — 
 
 •' He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 
 
 Within the safe and guarded ground : 8-10 
 
 From some foul purpose yet unknown, — 
 
 Most sure for evil to the throne, — 
 
 The outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 
 
 Has summoned his rebellious crew ; 
 
 'Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid 845 
 
 These loose banditti stand arrayed. 
 
 The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune, 
 
 To break their muster marelieJ, and scon 
 
 Your grace will hear of battle fought ; 
 
 But earnestly the Earl besought, 850 
 
 Till for such danger be provide, 
 
 With scanty train you will not ride." — 
 
 xxxn. 
 
 " Thou warn'st me I have done amiss, — 
 
 I should have earlier looked to this : 
 
 I lost it in this bustling day. 855 
 
 — Eetrace with speed your former way ; 
 
 Spare not for spoihng of thy steed, 
 
 The best of mine shall be thy meed, 
 
 Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, 
 
 We do forbid tli' intended war ; 8C0 
 
 Koderick, this morn, in single fight. 
 
 Was made our pririouer by a knight. 
 
 And Douglas hath himself and cause 
 
 Submitted to our kingdom's laws. 
 
 The tidings of their leaders lost 666 
 
CANTO v.] THE COMBAT. 27 
 
 Will soon dissolve the mountain host, 
 
 Nor would wo that the vulgar feel, 
 
 For their Chief's crimes nveujpn;.': steel. 
 
 Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly," — 
 
 He turned his steed, — "My liege, I hio, 870 
 
 Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn, 
 
 I fear the hroadsworda will be drawn."— 
 
 The turf the flying courser spurned. 
 
 And to his towers the King returned, 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Ill with King James's mood that day, 875 
 
 Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ; 
 
 Soon were dismissed the courtly throng, 
 
 And soon cut short the festal song. 
 
 Nor less upon the saddened town 
 
 The evening sunk in sorrow down ; 880 
 
 The burghers spoke of civil jar. 
 
 Of rumoured feuds and mountain war, 
 
 Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dim, 
 
 All up in arms : — the Douglas too, 
 
 They mourned him pent within the liold 885 
 
 "Where stout Earl William was of old,"* 
 
 And there his word the speaker staid. 
 
 And finger on his lip he laid, 
 
 Or pointed to his dagger Made. 
 
 But jaded horsemen, from the west, 800 
 
 At evening to the castle pressed ; 
 
 And busy talkers said they bore 
 
 Tiding of fight on Katrine's shore; 
 
 At noon the deadly fray begun. 
 
 And lasted till the set of sun. 895 
 
 Thus giddy rumour shook the town, 
 
 Till closed the night her pensions brown, 
 
 ♦Stabbed by James II. in Stirliug Custlo, 
 
NOTES. 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 FIFTH CANTO. 
 
 Nof then claimed sovereignty his due. 
 While Allan!/ with feeble hand, 
 Held horroiv'd truncheon of command. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza vi. 
 
 There is scarcely a more disorderly period in Scottish 
 history than that -which succeeded the buttle of Flodden, 
 and occupied the minority of Junies V. Fends of ancient 
 standing broke out like old wounds ; and every quarrel among 
 the independent nobility, which occurred daily, and almost 
 hourly, gave rise to fresh bloodshed. 
 
 The Gael, of plain and river heir, 
 Shall with strong hand redeem his share. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza vii. 
 
 So far, indeed, was a Creagh, or foray, from being held dis- 
 graceful, that a young chief was always expected to show 
 his talents for command, as soon as It- assumed it, by lead- 
 ini,' liis clan on a successful enterprise ol" tliis nature, either 
 against a neighbouring sept, for which constant feuds usually 
 furnislied an i!pol'~»7y, or a^^'ainst tlie Sassenach, H&xous, or 
 Lowlandcrs. for which no apology was necessary. 
 
 -I only meant 
 
 To show the rod on which you leant. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xi. 
 
 This incident, like some other passages in the poem, illus- 
 trative of the character of the ancient Gael, is not imagi- 
 nary, but borrowed from fact. 
 
 On Bochastle the mouldering lines. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xii. 
 
 The torrent which discharges itself from Loch Vennachar. 
 the lowest and eastmost of the three lakes which form the 
 Bcenery adjoining to the Trosachs, sweeps through a flat and 
 extensive moor, called Bochastle. 
 
80 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO V. 
 
 See, here, all vantageless Island, 
 Armed, like myself, ^vith single brand. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xii. 
 
 The duellists of former times did not always stand upon 
 these punctilios respecting equality of arms, which are now 
 judged essential to fair combat. It is true, that in formal 
 combats in the lists, the parties were, by the judges of the 
 field, put as nearly possible in the same circumstances. 
 But in private duels it was often otherwise. 
 
 nifar'd it, then, with Boderic Dhu, 
 That on the field his targe he threw. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xv 
 
 A round target of light wood, covered with <^trong leather' 
 and studded with brass or iron, was a necessary part of a 
 Highlander's equipment. 
 
 For, train'd abroad his arms to wield, 
 Fitz James's blade was sword and shield. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xv. 
 
 The use of defensive armour, and particularly of the buck- 
 ler or target, was general in Queen Elizabeth's time, although 
 that of the single rapier seems to have been occasionally 
 practised much earlier. Rowland Yorke, however, who be- 
 trayed the fort of Zutphen to the Spaniards, for which good 
 service he was afterwards poisoned by them, is said to have 
 been the first who brought the rapier-fight into general use. 
 
 Like mountain-cat who guards her young, 
 Full at Fitz-James's throat Tie sprung. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xvi. 
 
 I have not ventured to render this duel so savagely desper- 
 ate as that of the celebrated Sir Ewau of Lochiel, chief of 
 the clan Cameron, called from his sable complexion, Ewan 
 Dhu. He was the Inst man in Scotland who maintained the 
 royal cause during the great civil war, and his constant in- 
 cursions rendered him a very unpleasant neighbour to the 
 republican garrison at Inverlochy, now Fort William. 
 
 Ye towers ! within whose circuit dread, 
 A Douglas by his Sovereign bled. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xx. 
 
 The fate of William, eighth earl of Douglas, whom James 
 IT. stabbed in Stirling Castle, with his own hand, and while 
 under his own royal safe-conduct, is familiar to all who read 
 Scottish history. 
 
NOTES. 81 
 
 The burghers hold their sports to-day. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xx. 
 
 Every burgh in ScotlniTl, of the least note, but more 
 especially the coMsiderubh' towns, had their solemn pZa?/, or 
 festival, when feats of archery were exhibited, and prizes 
 distributed to those who excelled in wrestUng, hurling the 
 bar, and the other gymnastic exercises of the period. 
 
 . liobin Hood. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xxii. 
 
 The exhibition of this renowned outlaw and his band was 
 a favourite fiolio at such festivals as we are describing. 
 This si?ort, in which kings did not disdain to be actors, was 
 prohibited in Scotland upon the Eelorination, by a statute 
 of the 6th parliament of Queen Mary, ICO.j. 
 
 Prize of the wrestling match, the king 
 To Douglas gave a golden ring. 
 
 Canto 5, Stanza xxii. 
 
 The usual prize lor wrestling was a ram and a ring, but the 
 animal would have embarrassed my story. 
 
 CND OF CA.NTO FIFTH* 
 
%h f Mg 0f ih §m. 
 
 WITH NOTES. 
 
 CANTO VL 
 
 THE GUARD.ROOM. 
 
 TORONTO: 
 
 5V. WARWICK, WELLINGTON STBEET EAST. 
 
 1876. 
 
J.'' »IW 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 . t • I. 
 
 TiiB sun, awakening, through the smoky air 
 
 Of the dark city cast a sullen glance, 
 Bousing each caitiff to his task of care. 
 
 Of sinful man the sad inheritance ; 
 Summoning revellers from the lagging dance, 5 
 
 Scaring the prowling robber to his den ; 
 Gilding on battled tower the warder's lance, 
 
 And warning student pale to leave his pen, 
 And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men. 
 
 What various scenes, ! what scenes of woe, 10 
 
 Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam I 
 The fevered patient, from his pallet low. 
 
 Through crowded hospital beholds its stream ; 
 The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam. 
 
 The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail, 15 
 
 The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream. 
 
 The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, 
 Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. 
 
 IL 
 
 At dawn the tower of Stirling rang 
 With soldier-step and weapon-clang, 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO VI 
 
 While di'ums, with rolling note, foretell 
 
 Eelief to weary sentinel. 
 
 Through narrow loop and casement barr'd, 
 
 The sunbeams sought the Court of Guardj 
 
 And, strugghng with the smoky air, 2c 
 
 Deaden'd the torches yellow glare. 
 
 In comfortless alliance shone 
 
 TLe lights through arch of blackened stone, 
 
 And showed wild shapes in garb of w^ar, 
 
 Faces deformed with beard and scar, 80 
 
 Al: haggard from the midnight watch, 
 
 And fevered with the stern debauch ; 
 
 For the oak-table's massive board, 
 
 Flooded with wine, with fragments stored, 
 
 And beakers drained, and cuj^s o'erthro^^^l, 85 
 
 Showed in what sport the night had flown. 
 
 Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ; 
 
 Some laboured still their thirst to quench ; 
 
 Some chilled with watching, spread then hands 
 
 O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, 4U 
 
 While round them, or beside them flung, 
 
 At every step their harness rung. 
 
 III. 
 
 These di-ew not for their fields the sword. 
 
 Like tenants of a feudal lord, 
 
 Nor owned the patriarchal claim 45 
 
 Of chieftain in their leader's name ; 
 
 Adventurers they, from far who roved, 
 
 To live by battle which they loved. 
 
 There the Italian's clouded face, 
 
 The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ; 60 
 
 The mountain- loving Switzer there 
 
 More freely breathed in mountain-air ; 
 
 The Fleming there despised the soil 
 
 That paid so ill the labourer's toil; 
 
 Their rolls shewed French and German nam 3; 55 
 
 And merry England's exiles came. 
 
 To share, with ill-concealed disdain, 
 
 Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain. 
 
CANTO VI.] THE GDAED-nOOM. 6 
 
 All brave in arms, well trained to wield 
 
 The heavy halbert, brand, and shield ; 60 
 
 In camps licentious, wild and bold ; 
 
 In pillage, fierce and uncontrolled ; 
 
 And now, by holytide and feast, 
 
 From rules of discipline released. 
 
 IV. 
 
 They held debate of bloody fray, 65 
 
 Fought 'twixt Loch-Katrine and Achray. 
 
 Fierce was their speech, and mid their words, 
 
 Their hands oft grappled to their swords ; 
 
 Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear 
 
 Of wounded comrades groaning near, 70 
 
 Whose mangled limbs and bodies gored, 
 
 Bore token of the mountain sword, 
 
 Though, neighbouring to the Court of Guard, 
 
 Their prayers and feverish wails were heard ; — 
 
 Sad burden to the ruffian joke, 76 
 
 And savage oath by fury spoke ; — 
 
 At length up started John of Brent, 
 
 A yeoman frosn the banks of Trent ; 
 
 A stranger to respect cr fear. 
 
 In peace a chaser of the deei, 80 
 
 In host a hardy mutineer. 
 
 But still the boldest of the crew, 
 
 When deed of danger was to do. 
 
 He grieved, that day their games cut short, 
 
 And marr'd the dicer's brawling sport, 86 
 
 And shouted loud, ''Eenew the bowl! 
 
 And while a merry catch I troll. 
 
 Let each the buxom chorus bear. 
 
 Like brethren of the brand and spear."— 
 
 V. 
 
 soldier's song. 
 
 Our viear still preaches that Peter and Poul© 90 
 
 Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl, 
 
6 THK LADY OF XliL LAKE. | CANTO VI. 
 
 That there*! wrath and despair iu the jolly hlaok jack, 
 
 And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sacV ; 
 
 Yet whoop, Barnaby ! off with thy liquor, 
 
 Drink upsees* out, and a fig for the vicar ! 96 
 
 Our vicar ho calls it damnation to sip 
 
 The ripe ruddy dew of a woman's dear lip, 
 
 Says, that Belzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly, 
 
 And ApoUyon shoots darts from her merry black eye ; 
 
 Yet whoop, Jack ! kiss GiUian the quicker, 100 
 
 Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vicar 1 
 
 Our vicar thus preaches and why should he not ? 
 For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot ; 
 And 'tis right of his office poor laymen to lurch, 
 Wlio infringe the domains of our good mother 
 
 Church. 105 
 
 Yet whoop, bully-boys ! off with your liquor, 
 Bweet Marjorie's the word, and a fig for the vicar. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The warder's challenge, heard without, 
 
 Stayed in mid-roar the merry shout. 
 
 A soldier to the portal went. — 110 
 
 " Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent ; 
 
 And, beat for jubilee the drum ! 
 
 A maid and minstrel with him come." — 
 
 Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarr'd, 
 
 Was entering now the Court of Guard, 116 
 
 A harper with him, and, in plaid 
 
 All muffled close, a mountain maid, 
 
 Who backward shrunk to 'scape the view 
 
 Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. 
 
 " What news?" they roared.— "I only know, 120 
 
 From noon till eve we fought with ioe^ 
 
 As wild and as untameable 
 
 As the rude mountains where they dwell. 
 
 On both sides store of blood is lost, 
 
 Nor much success can either boast." 125 
 
 *A Bacchanalian interjection, borrowed iron the Dutch. 
 
CANTO Vl-l THE QUARD-ROOlt 7 
 
 "But wiienco thy captives, friend? such spoil 
 
 As tiieirs must needs reward tliy toil. 
 
 Old dost tbou wax, and wars grow slio^^ i 
 
 Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp, 
 
 Get theo an ape, and trudge the land, 130 
 
 The leader of a juggler band." — 
 
 vn. 
 
 "No comrade ; — no such fortune mine. 
 After the fight these sought our line. 
 That aged harper and the girl, 
 And, having audience of the Earl, 135 
 
 Mar bade I should purvey them steed, 
 And bring them hitherward with speed. 
 Forbear your mirth and rude alarm. 
 For none shall do them shame or harm." — 
 *'Hear ye his boast ! cried John of Brent, 40 
 
 Ever to strife and jangling bent, — 
 ' Shall he strike doe beside our lodge, 
 And yet the jealous niggard grudge 
 To pay the forester his fee ! 
 
 I'll have my share howe'er it be, 145 
 
 Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee." 
 Bertram his forward step withstood; 
 And, burning in his vengeful mood, 
 Old Allan, tliough unfit for strife, 
 Laid hand upon his dagger-knife ; 150 
 
 But Ellen boldly stepp'd between, 
 And dropp'd at once the tartan screen ; — 
 So, from his morning cloud, appears 
 The sun of May, through summer tears. 
 The savage soldiery, amazed, 155 
 
 As on descended angel gazed ; 
 Ev'n hardy Brent, abashed and tamed, 
 Stood half admiring, half ashamed. 
 
 t 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Boldly she spoke, — "Soldiers, attend I 
 
 My father was a soldier's friend ; 1150 
 
6 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO VI. 
 
 Cheered liim in camps, in marcbut: led, 
 
 And with him in the battle bled. 
 
 Not from the valiant, or the strong. 
 
 Should exile's daughter suffer wrong." 
 
 Answered De Brent, most forward still 165 
 
 In every feat of good or ill. — 
 
 •' I shame me of the part I played : 
 
 And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid ! 
 
 An outlaw I by forest laws, 
 
 And merry Needwood knows the cause. 170 
 
 Poor Rose — if Rose be living now " — 
 
 He wiped his iron eye and brow, 
 
 •' Must bear such age, I think as thou. — 
 
 Hear ye, my mates ; — I go to call 
 
 The Captain of our watch to hall : 176 
 
 There lies my halbert on the floor ; 
 
 And he that steps my halbert o'er, 
 
 To do the maid injurious part. 
 
 My shaft shall quiver in his heart ! — 
 
 Beware loose speech, or jesting rough: 180 
 
 Ye all know John De Brent. Enough." — 
 
 IX. 
 
 Their captain came, a gallant young, — 
 
 (Of TuUibardine's house he sprung.) 
 
 Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight ; 
 
 Gay was his mien, his humour liglit, 185 
 
 And, though by courtesy control] ed. 
 
 Forward his speech, his bearing bold. 
 
 The high-born maiden ill could brook 
 
 The scanning of his curious look 
 
 And dauntless ej'e ; — and yet, in soothe, 100 
 
 Ycung Lewis was a generous youth ; 
 
 But Ellen's lovely face and mien. 
 
 Ill-suited to the garb and scene, 
 
 Might lightly bear construction strange, 
 
 And give loose fancy scope to range. 195 
 
 — "Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maidt 
 
 Come ye to seek a champion's aid. 
 
 On Palfrey white, with harper hoar, 
 
CANTO VI.] THE OUARD-ROOrj. 9 
 
 Like errant damosel of yore? 
 
 Does thy high quest a knight require, 200 
 
 Or may the venture suit a squire?" — 
 
 Her dark eye Ihishcil ;— she paused and sighL-J, — 
 
 " What have I to do with pride ! 
 
 — Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and itrifo. 
 
 A supphant for a father's life, 205 
 
 I crave an audience of tlie King, 
 
 Behold, to back my suit, a ring. 
 
 The royal pledge of grateful claims. 
 
 Given by the monarch to Fitz- James," — 
 
 X. 
 
 The signet-ring young Lewis took, 210 
 
 With deep respect and altered look ; 
 
 And said, — "This ring our duties own ; 
 
 And pardon, if to worth unlmown, 
 
 In semblance mean obscurely veiled, 
 
 Lady, in aught my folly failed. 215 
 
 Soon as the day flings wide his gates. 
 
 The King shall know what suitor waits. 
 
 Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower 
 
 Repose you till his waking hour ; 
 
 Female attendance shall obey 820 
 
 Your best, for service or array. 
 
 Permit I marshall you the way." 
 
 But, ere she followed, with the grace 
 
 And open bounty of her race. 
 
 She bade her slender purse be shared 225 
 
 Among the soldiers of the guard. 
 
 The rest wdth thanks their guerdon took ; 
 
 But Brent, with shy and awkward look, 
 
 On the reluctant maiden's hold 
 
 Forced bluntly back the proffered gold, 230 
 
 "Forgive a haughty English hcnrt, 
 
 And 0, forget its ruder part ! 
 
 The vacant purse shall be my share, 
 
 Which in my barret-cap I'll bear, 
 
 Pe: chance, in jeopardy of war, 235 
 
 Where gayer crests ma;^ keep afar," 
 
10 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [cANTO VI. 
 
 "With thanks, — 'twas all she could, — the maid 
 His rugged courtesy paid. 
 
 XI. 
 
 When Ellen forth Ts-ith Lewis went, 
 
 A' Ian made suit to John of Brent : 240 
 
 " Afy lady safe, O let your grace 
 
 (live me to see my master's face ! 
 
 His minstrel, — to share his doom 
 
 Bound from the cradle to the tomb. 
 
 Tenth in descent, since first my sires 245 
 
 Waked for his noble house their lyres, 
 
 Nor one of all the race was known 
 
 But prized its weal above their own. 
 
 With the Chief's birth begins our care ; 
 
 Our harp must soothe the infant heir.^ 250 
 
 Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace 
 
 His earliest feat of field or chase ; 
 
 In peace, in war, our rank we kctp, 
 
 We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep, 
 
 Nor leave him till we pour our verse, 255 
 
 A doleful tribute ! o'er his hearse. 
 
 Then let me share his captive lot ; 
 
 It is my right — deny it not !" — 
 
 "Little we reck," said John of Brent, 
 
 " We Southern men, of long descent ; 260 
 
 Nor wot we how a name — a word — 
 
 Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : 
 
 Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — 
 
 God bless the house of Beaudesert ! 
 
 And, but I loved to drive the deer. 265 
 
 More than to guide the labouring steer, 
 
 I had not dwelt an outcast here. 
 
 Come, good old Minstrel, follow me ; 
 
 Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see." 
 
 xn. 
 
 Then from a rusted iron hook, 270 
 
 A bunch of ponderous keys he took. 
 
CANTO VI."| THE GUARD -ROOM. 11 
 
 Lighted a torch, and Allan led 
 
 Throngh grated arch and passage dread. 
 
 Portals they passed, where, deep within 
 
 Spoke prisoner's moan, and fetters' din ; 275 
 
 Through rugged vaults, where loosely stored. 
 
 Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword. 
 
 And many a hideous engine grim, 
 
 For wrenching joint, and crushing limb, 
 
 By artists formed, deemed it shame 2S0 
 
 And sin to give their work a name. 
 
 They halted at a low-browed porch, 
 
 And Brent to Allan gave the torch, 
 
 While bolt and chain ho backward rolled 
 
 And made the bar unclasp its hold. 285 
 
 They entered : — 'twas a prison-room 
 
 Of stern security and gloom, 
 
 Yet not a dungeon ; for the day 
 
 Through lofty gratings found its way, 
 
 And rude and antique garniture 290 
 
 Decked the sad walls and oaken floor ; 
 
 Such as the rugged days of old, 
 
 Deem'd fit for captive noble's hold. 
 
 ♦' Here," said De Brent, "thou mayst remain 
 
 Till the Leech visit him again. 295 
 
 Strict is his charge, the warders tell. 
 
 To tend the noble prisoner well." — 
 
 Eetiring then the bolt he drew. 
 
 And the lock's murmurs growl'd anew. 
 
 Boused at the sound, from lowly bed 300 
 
 A Captive feebly raised his head ; 
 
 The wondering Minstrel looked anu knew 
 
 Not his dear lord, but Roderick A **: ! 
 
 For, come from where Clan-Alpine I'Jought, 
 
 They, erring, deemed the Chief he sought. 305 
 
 xni. 
 
 As the tall ship, whose lofty prore 
 Shall never stem the billows more, 
 Deserted by her gallant band, 
 Amid the breakers lies astrand, — 
 
12 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [cANTO VI. 
 
 So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dliu I 310 
 
 And oft his fevered limbs he threw 
 
 In toss abrupt, as when her sides 
 
 Lie rocking in th' advancing tides, 
 
 That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, 
 
 Yet cannot leave her from her seat ; — 315 
 
 ! how unlike her course on sea ! 
 
 Or his free step on hill and lea ! — 
 
 Soon as the Minstrel he coald scan, 
 
 " What of thy lady ?— of my clan ? 
 
 My mother ? — Douglas ? — tell me all ! 320 
 
 Have they been ruined in my fall? 
 
 Ah, yes ! or wherefore art thou here ! 
 
 Yet speak, — speak boldly, — do not fear." — 
 
 (For Allan who his mood well knew. 
 
 Was chocked with grief and terror too.) 325 
 
 "Who fought ? — who fled ? — Old man, be brief ; 
 
 Some might — for they had lost their Chief. 
 
 Who basely live ? — who bravely died?" — 
 
 " O, calm thee, Chief !" the Minstrel cried, 
 
 ** Ellen is safe ! — " For that, thank heaven ! 330 
 
 "And hopes are for the Douglas given ; — 
 
 The Lady Margaret too is well. 
 
 And, for thy clan, — on field or fell, 
 
 Has never harp of minstrel told 
 
 Of combat fought so true and bold, 835 
 
 Thy stately pine is yet unbent, 
 
 Though many a goodly bough is rent." — 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Chieftain reared his form on high, 
 
 The fever's fire was in his eye ; 
 
 But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks SIO 
 
 Chequered his swai'thy brow and cheeks. 
 
 — " Hark, Minstrel ! I have heard thee pl.^y, 
 
 With measure bold on festal day, 
 
 III yon lone isle, . . . again where ne'er 
 
 Shall harper play, or warrior hear ! . . , 345 
 
 That stirring air that peals on high 
 
 O'er Dermid's race our victory.— 
 
CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROjM. l8 
 
 Strike it ! — and then (for well thou canst), 
 
 Free from thy minstrel- spirit glanced, 
 
 Fling me the picture of the fight, 350 
 
 When met my clan the Saxon might. 
 
 I'll listen, till my fancy hears 
 
 The clang of s\yords, the crash of spears I 
 
 These grates, these walls, shall vanish then, 
 
 For the fair field of fighting men, 355 
 
 And my free spirit burst away. 
 
 As if it soared from battle fray." 
 
 The trembUug bard with awe obeyed, — 
 
 Slow on the harp his hand he laid ; 
 
 But soon remembrance of the sight 360 
 
 He witnessed from the mountain's height, 
 
 With what old Bertram told at night. 
 
 Awakened the full power of song, 
 
 And bore him in career along ; 
 
 As shallop launched on river's tide, 365 
 
 That slow and fearful leaves the side, 
 
 But, when it feels the middle stream. 
 
 Drives downward swift as lightning beam. 
 
 XV. 
 
 BATTLE OP BEAL' AN DUINE. 
 
 " The Minstrel came once more to view, 
 
 The eastern ridge of Ben-venue, 370 
 
 For, ere he parted, he would say 
 
 Farewell to lovely Loch-Achray — 
 
 Where shall he find, in foreign laud, 
 
 So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! 
 
 No ripple on the lake, 37i^ 
 
 Upon her eyrie nods the erne, 
 
 The deer has sought the brake ; 
 The small birds will not sing aloud, 
 
 The springing trout lie still. 
 So darkly glooms yon thunder cloud, 380 
 
 That swathes, as with a purple shroud, 
 
 Benledi's distant hill. 
 Is it the thunder's solemn sound 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [cANTO VI. 
 
 That mutters deep and dread, 
 Or echoes from the groaning gi-oimd 385 
 
 Tue warrior's measured tread ? 
 Is it the hghtning's quivering glance 
 
 That on the thicket streams, 
 Or do they flash on spear and lance 
 
 The sun's retiring beams? 390 
 
 — I see the dagger-crest of Mar, 
 I see the Moray's silver star, 
 Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war. 
 That up the lake comes winding far I 
 To hero boune for battle-strife, 395 
 
 Or bard of martial lay, 
 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life 
 
 One glance at their array ! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Their light-armed archers far and n'^ar 
 
 Survived the tangled ground, 400 
 
 Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, 
 
 A twilight forest frowned. 
 Their barbed horsemen, in the rear, 
 
 The stern battalia ci owned. 
 No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang, 405 
 
 Still were the pipe and drum ; 
 Save heavy tread and armour's clang. 
 
 The sullen march was dumb. 
 There breathed no wind their crests to shako, 
 
 Or wave their flags abroad : 410 
 
 Scarce the frail aspen seemed to quake. 
 
 That shadowed o'er their road. 
 Their vaward scouts no tidings bring, 
 
 Can rouse no lurking foe. 
 Nor spy a trace of living thing, 415 
 
 Save when they stirred the roe ; 
 The host moves like a deep-sea wave. 
 Where rise no rocks its pride to brave, 
 
 High- swelling, dark, and slow. 
 The lake is passed, and now they gain 420 
 
 A narrow and a broken plain, 
 
CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 15 
 
 Before the Trosach's rugged jaws \ 
 
 And here the horse and spearmen pause, 
 
 While, to explore the dangerous glen, 
 
 Dive through the pass the archer-men, 425 
 
 xvn. 
 
 " At once there rose so wild a yell 
 
 Within that dark and narrow dell. 
 
 As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, 
 
 Had pealed the banner-cry of hell ! 
 
 Forth from the pass in tumult driven, 430 
 
 Like chaff before the wind of heaven, 
 
 The archery appear : 
 For life ! for life ! their flight they ply — 
 And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry. 
 And plaids, and bonnets waving high, 435 
 
 And broadswords 'hashing to the sky, 
 
 Are maddening in their rear. 
 Onward they drive, in dreadful race, 
 
 Pursuers and pursued : 
 Before that tide of flight and chase, 440 
 
 How shall it keep its rooted place 
 
 The spearmen's twihght wood ? 
 — 'Down, down,' cried Mar, 'your lances down, 
 
 Bear back both friend and foe ! ' 
 Like reeds before the tempest fro\vn, 445 
 
 That serried grove of lances brown 
 
 At once lay levell'd low ; 
 And closely shouldering side to side 
 The bristhng ranks the onset bide. — 
 — ' We'll quell the savage mountaineer, 450 
 
 As their Tinchel* cows the game ! 
 
 xvm. 
 
 Iliey come as fleet as forest dear, 
 We'll drive them back as tame.' 
 
 'A circle of sportsmen, who, by surrounding a great space, 
 and gradually narrowing, brought immense quantities of 
 deer togotlior, which usually uaade desperate effortitO \iX99^ 
 through the Tinchel, 
 
THE LADY OF THR LAKE. [CANTO VI. 
 
 •'Bearing before them, in their course, 
 
 The relics of the archer force, 445 
 
 Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, 
 
 Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. 
 
 Above the tide each broadsword bright 
 
 Was brandishing like beam of light, 
 
 Each targe was dark below ; 460 
 
 And with the ocean's mighty swing, 
 When heaving to the tempest's wing, 
 
 They luirled them on the foe. 
 I heard the lance' rf shivering crash. 
 As when the whulwind rends the ash ; • 465 
 
 I heard the broadsword's deadly clang, 
 As if a hundred anvils rang ! 
 But Moray wheeled his rearward rank 
 Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine's fiank. — 
 
 — 'My banner-man, advance ! 470 
 
 I see,' he cried, ' their column shake. — 
 Now, gallants ! for your ladies' sake. 
 
 Upon thorn with the lance !" — 
 The horsemen dashed among the route, 
 
 As deer break through the broom ; 475 
 
 Their steeds are stout, their swords are out, 
 
 They soon make lightsome room. 
 Clan- Alpine's best are backward borne — 
 
 Where, where, was Roderick then ! 
 One blast upon his bugle-horn 480 
 
 Were worth a thousand men. 
 And refluent through the pass of fear 
 
 The battle's tide was pour'd ; 
 Vanished the Saxon's struggling spear. 
 
 Vanished the mountain sword. 485 
 
 As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and steep, 
 
 Receives her roaring linn. 
 As the dark caverns of the deep 
 
 Suck the wild whirlpool in. 
 So did the deep and darksome pass 490 
 
 Devour the battle's mingled mass ; 
 None linger now upon the plain. 
 Save those who ne'er shall fight agn'Ot 
 
OANTO YI.] THE GUAKD-ROOM. 17 
 
 XIX. 
 
 *♦ Now westward rolls the battle's din, 
 
 That deep and doubting pass within. 495 
 
 — Minstrel, away ! the work of fate 
 
 Is bearing on : its issue wait 
 
 Where the rude Trosach's dread defile 
 
 Opens on Katrine's lake and isle, — 
 
 Gray Ben-venue I soon repassed, 600 
 
 Loch-Katrine lay beneath me cast. 
 
 The sun is set ; — the clouds are met, 
 
 The louring scowl of heaven 
 An inky hue of Uvid blue 
 
 To the deep Ifcke has given C05 
 
 Strange gust of wind from mountain glen 
 Swept ( 'er the lake, then sunk agen. 
 I heeded not the eddying surge. 
 Mine eyes but saw the Trosach's gorge, 
 Mine ear but heard that sullen sound, 610 
 
 Which like an earthquake shook the ground, 
 And spoke the stern and desperate stiife 
 That prrts not but with parting life, 
 Seeming, to minstrel-ear, to toll 
 The dirge of many a passing soul. 616 
 
 Nearer it comes — the dim- wood glen 
 The martial flood disgorged agen. 
 
 But not in mingled tide ; 
 The plaided warriors of the North 
 High on the mountain thunder forth, 620 
 
 And overhang its side ; 
 While bv the lake below appears 
 Tlie dark'ning cloud of Saxon spears. 
 At weary bay each sLaitcred band, 
 Eyeing their foemen, sternly stand ; 625 
 
 Their banners stream like tatter'd sail, 
 That flings its fragments to the gale ; 
 And broken arms and disarray 
 Marked the fell havoc of the da^. 
 
18 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO VI, 
 
 XX. 
 
 "Viewing the mountain's ridge askance, 530 
 
 The Saxons stood in sullen trance, 
 Till Moray pointed with his lance, 
 
 And cried — ' Behold yon isle ! — 
 See ! none are left to guard its strand, 
 But women weak, that ^vring the hand ; 635 
 
 'Tis there of yore the robber-band 
 
 Their booty wont to pile : — 
 My purse, with bonnet-pieces store. 
 To him will swim a bowshot o'er, 
 And loose a shallop from the shore. 5 10 
 
 Lightly we'll tame the war-wolf then, 
 Lords of his mate, and brood, aud den." 
 Forth from the ranks a spearman sprung. 
 On earth his casque and corslet rung. 
 
 He plunged him in the wave : — 545 
 
 J\?\ saw the deed — the purpose knew, 
 A id to their clamours Ben-venue 
 
 A mingled echo gave ; 
 The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, 
 The helpless females scream for fear, 550 
 
 And yells for rage the mountaineer. 
 'Twas then, as by the outcry riven. 
 Poured down at once the louring heaven : 
 A whirlwind swept Loch-Katrine's breast. 
 Her billows reared their snowy crest. 555 
 
 Well for the swimmer swelled they high, 
 To mar the Highland marksman's eye ; 
 For round him showered, 'mid rain and hail, 
 The vengeful arrows of the Gael. — 
 In vain. — He nears the isle — and lo ! 560 
 
 His hand is on a shallop's bow. 
 — Just then a flash of lightning came. 
 It tinged the waves and strand with flame. — 
 I marked Duncraggan's widowed dame. 
 Behind an oak I saw her stand, 5G5 
 
 A naked dirk gleamed in her hand ; 
 It darkened, — but amid the moan 
 Of waves I heard a dying groan ;— 
 
CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 19 
 
 Another flash ! — the ppearman floats — 
 
 A weltering corse beside the boats, 570 
 
 And the stern Matron o'er him stood, 
 
 Her hand and dagger streaming blood. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 "Kevenge ! revenge ! " the Saxons cried, 
 
 The Gael's exulting shout repUed. 
 
 Despite the elemental rage, 676 
 
 Again thev hurried to engage ; 
 
 But, ere they closed in desperate fight, 
 
 Bloody with spurring came a knight, 
 
 Sprung from his horse, and, from a crag, 
 
 Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white flag. 580 
 
 Clarion and trumpet by his side 
 
 Rung forth a truce-note high and wide. 
 
 While, in the monarch's name, afar 
 
 A herald's voice forbade the war, 
 
 i'or Bothwell's Lord, and Roderick bold, 685 
 
 Were both, he said, in captive hold." — 
 
 — But here the lay made sudden stand, 
 
 The harj) escaped the Minstrel's hand !— 
 
 Oft had he stol'n a glance, to spy 
 
 How Roderick brooked his minstrelsy : 690 
 
 At first, the Chieftain, to the chime, 
 
 With lifted hand kept feeble time ; 
 
 That motion ceased, — yet feeling strong 
 
 Varied his look as changed the song ; 
 
 At length, no more his deafened ear 695 
 
 The minstrel melody can hear ; 
 
 His face grows sharp, — his hands are clenched. 
 
 As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched ; 
 
 Set are his teeth, his fading eye 
 
 Is sternly fixed on vacancy ; — 600 
 
 Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew 
 
 His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu ! — 
 
 Old Allan-bane looked on aghast, 
 
 While grim and still his spirit passed ; 
 
 But when he saw that life was fled, 605 
 
 He poured his wailing o'er the dead. 
 
20 THE LADY OF THE L^'iL. fCANTO Vt. 
 
 xxn. 
 
 LAMENT. 
 
 '• And art thou cold, and lowly laid, 
 
 Thy foeman's dread, thy people's aid, 
 
 Breadalbane's boast, Clan- Alpine's shrule ! 
 
 For thee shall none a requiem say ? 610 
 
 — For thee, who loved the minstrel's lay, 
 
 For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay, 
 
 The shelter of her exiled line. 
 
 E'en in this prison-house of thine, 
 
 I'll wail for Alpine's honoured pine ! 615 
 
 •' ^Vllat groans shall yonder valleys fill ! 
 
 What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill ! 
 
 What tears of burning rage shall thrill, 
 
 When mourns thy tribe thy battles done, 
 
 Thv fall before the race was one, G20 
 
 Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun ! 
 
 There breathes not clansman of thy line, 
 
 But would have giv'n his life for thine. — 
 
 O woe for Alpine's honoured pine ! 
 
 "Sad was thy lot on mortal stage ! 625 
 
 The captive thrush may break the cage, 
 
 The prisoned eagle dies for rage. 
 
 Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain ! 
 
 And, when its notes awake again, 
 
 Ev'n she, so long beloved in vain, 630 
 
 Shall with my harp her voice combine, 
 
 And mix her woe and tears with mine, 
 
 To wail Clan-Alpine's honoured pine." — 
 
 xxni. 
 
 Ellen, the while, with bursting heart, 
 
 Remained in lordly bower apart, 635 
 
 Where played, with many-coloured glor.me, 
 
 Through storied pane the rising beams. 
 
 In vain on gilded roof they fall, 
 
 And lighten'd up a tap'stried wall, 
 
 And for her use a menial train 640 
 
CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-R^OM. 21 
 
 A rich collation spread in vnin. 
 
 The banquet proud, the chamber gay, 
 
 Scarce drew one curious g.v.nce astray; 
 
 Or, if she looked, 'twas but to say, 
 
 With better omen dawned the day 615 
 
 In that lone isle, where waved on high 
 
 The dun deer's hide for canopy ; 
 
 Where oft her noble father shared 
 
 The simple meal her care prepared, 
 
 While Lufra, crouching by her side, Oi^O 
 
 Her station claimed with jealous pride, 
 
 And Douglas, bent on woodland game, 
 
 Spoke of the chase to Malcolm-Graeme, 
 
 Whose answer, oft at random made, 
 
 The wandering of his thoughts betrayed. — 655 
 
 Those who such simple joys have known 
 
 Are taught to prize them when they're gone : 
 
 But sudden, see, she lifts her head ! 
 
 The window seeks with cautious tread. 
 
 What distant music has the power 6G0 
 
 To win her in this woeful hour ! 
 
 'Twas from a turret that o'erhurg 
 
 Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN. 
 
 •• My hawk is tired of perch and hood, 
 
 My idle greyhound loathes his food, C63 
 
 My horse is weary of his stall. 
 
 And I am sick of captive thrall. 
 
 I wish I were as I have been, 
 
 Hunting the hart in forests green, 
 
 With bended bow and bloodhound free, 670 
 
 For that's the life is meet for me. 
 
 ** I hate to learn the ebb of time. 
 
 From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime, 
 
 Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl, 
 
 Inch after inch, along the wall. 075 
 
22 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO TI. 
 
 Tho lark was wont my matins ring 
 Tbo sablo rook my vespers sini-^ ; 
 These towers, although a king's they be, 
 Have not a hall of joy for me. 
 
 ♦• No more at dawning morn I rise, 680 
 
 And sun myself in Ellen's eyes, 
 
 Drive the fleet deer tho forest through, 
 
 And homeward wend with evening dew ; 
 
 A blithesome welcome blitholy meet, 
 
 And lay my trophies at her feet, 635 
 
 While glad the evo on wing of glee, — 
 
 That life is lost to love and me ?— 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The boart-sick lay was hardly said, 
 
 Tho list'ner had not turned her head, 
 
 It trickled still, the starting tear, 690 
 
 When light a footstep struck her car. 
 
 The Snowdoun's graceful Knight was near. 
 
 She turned the hastier, lest again 
 
 The prisoner should renew his strain. 
 
 " welcome, brave Fitz-James !"' she said ; 695 
 
 "How may an almost orphan maid 
 
 Pay deep tl.o debt" " say not so ? 
 
 To me no gratitude you owe. 
 
 Not mine, alas ! the boon to give, 
 
 And bid thy noble father live ; 700 
 
 I can but bo tby guide, sweet maid, 
 
 With Scotland's King thy suit to aid. 
 
 No tyrant he, though ire and pride 
 
 May lead his better mood aside. 
 
 Come, Ellen, come? — 'tis more than time ; 70.' 
 
 He holds his court at morning prime." 
 
 With beating heart and bosom ^vlung, 
 
 As to a brother's arm ?he clung. 
 
 Gently he dried tho falling tear, 
 
 And gently whispered hope and cliccr ; 710 
 
 Her faltering steps half led, half stayed 
 
 Through gallery fair and hitjh aicade, 
 
CANTO VJ.] rilL oUAKu-KUOM. 23 
 
 Till, at his toucli, iis w-npis of pride 
 A portal arch unfolded wide. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Within 'twas Liilliaut all and lighV 71o 
 
 A thronging scone of figures bright; 
 
 It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight, 
 
 As when the setting sun has given 
 
 Ten thousand hues to summer t\en. 
 
 And, from their tissue, fancy frames 720 
 
 Aerial knightri and fairy dames. 
 
 Still by ritz-James her footing stayed ; 
 
 A few faint stejjs she forward made, 
 
 Then slow her drooping head she raised, 
 
 And fearful round the j^resence gazed 725 
 
 Tor liim she soutdrt, who owned this state, 
 
 The dreaded prince whose will was fate. — 
 
 She gazed ori n/«..y a princely port, 
 
 TJight well have ruled a royal couit; 
 
 On many a splendid garb she gazed, — 730 
 
 Then turned b^nvildered and aiuazod, 
 
 For all stood bare : and, in the room, 
 
 Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. 
 
 To him each lady's look was lent, 
 
 On him each courtier's eye was bent ! 73o 
 
 Midst furs and silks and jewels' sheen, 
 
 Hi3 stood, in simple Lincoln green. 
 
 The centre of th ■ glittering ring, — 
 
 And Suowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King ! 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 A^ wreath of snow on mountain breast, 740 
 
 Slides from the rock that gave it rest. 
 
 Poor Ellon j^lided from her stay, 
 
 And at the Monarch's feet she lay ; 
 
 No word her choking voice comuiands, — 
 
 She show^ed the ring. — she clasped her harids. 71' 
 
 O I not a moment could he brook, 
 
 The generous prince, that suppJant look ' 
 
THE LADY OF THE LA: K. [cANTO VI* 
 
 Gently he raised her, — and, the while. 
 
 Checked with a glance the circle's smile, 
 
 Graceful, but grave, her brow he kissed, 750 
 
 And bade her terrors be dismissed : — 
 
 *' Yes, Fair ; the wandering poor Fitz-Jame3 
 
 The fealty of Scotland claims. 
 
 'J'o him thy woes, thy wishes, bring; 
 
 lie will redeem his signet-ring. 755 
 
 Ask nought for Douglas ; — yester even, 
 
 His prir ce and he have much forgiven : 
 
 Wrong hath he had from sland'rous tongue, 
 
 I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. 
 
 We would not to the vulgar crowd 7(iO 
 
 Yield what they crave with clamour loud. 
 
 Calmly we heard and judged his cause, 
 
 Our council aide J, and our laws. 
 
 I stanched thy father's death-feud stern, 
 
 With stout De Vaux and grey Glencairn ; 765 
 
 And Bothwell's Lord henceforth we own 
 
 The friend and bulwark of our throne. — 
 
 But, lovely infidel, how now? 
 
 What clouds thy misbelieving brow ? 
 
 Lord James of Douglas lend thine aid. 770 
 
 Thou must confirm this doubting maid.", 
 
 XXVIIL 
 
 Then forth the noble Douglas sprung, 
 
 And on his neck his daughter hung. 
 
 The Monarch drank, that happ hour, 
 
 The sweetest, holiest draught of Power, — 775 
 
 When it can say, with godlike voice, 
 
 Arise, sad Virtue, and rejoice ! 
 
 Yet would not James the general eye 
 
 On nature's raptures long should piy ; 
 
 He stepped between — " Nay, Douglas, nay, 7S0 
 
 Steal not my proselyte away ! 
 
 The riddle 'tis my right to read, 
 
 That brought this happy chance to speed. — 
 
 Yes, Ellen, when disguised 1 stray , 
 
 In life's more low but happier way, 7t-- 
 
CANTO Vl.J THE GUARD-ROOM 25 
 
 'Tis under name which veils my power. 
 
 Nor falsely veils — for Stirling's tower, 
 
 Of yore the name of Snowdoim claims, 
 
 And Normans call me James Fitz-James. 
 
 Thus watch I o'er insulted laws, 790 
 
 Thus learn to right the injured cause." — 
 
 Then in a tone apart and low, 
 
 — *' Ah ! little traitress ! none must know 
 
 What idle dream, what Ughter thought, 
 
 What vanity full dearly bought, 795 
 
 Joined to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drew 
 
 My spell-bound steps to Ben-venue, 
 
 In dangerous hour, and all but gave 
 
 Thy Monarch's life to mountain glaive ! 
 
 Aloud he spoke—" Thou still dost hold 800 
 
 That httle talisman of gold. 
 
 Pledge of my faith, Fitz- James's ring — 
 
 What ".eeks fair Ellen of the King?"— 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Full well the conscious maiden guessed, 
 
 He probed the weakness of her breast ; 835 
 
 But, with that consciousness, there came 
 
 A hghtening of her fears for Graeme, 
 
 And more she deemed the monarch's ire 
 
 Kindled 'gainst him who for her sire 
 
 Eebellious broadsword boldly drew; 810 
 
 And, to her generous feeling true, 
 
 She craved the gi-ace of Roderick Dhu. — 
 
 ♦'Forbear thy suit : — the King of Kings 
 
 Alone can stay life's parting wings. 
 
 I know his heart, I know his hand, 815 
 
 Have shared his cheer, and proved bis brand ; 
 
 My fairest earldom would I give 
 
 To bid Clan-Alpine's Chieftain live ! — 
 
 Hast thou no other boon to crave ? 
 
 No other captive friend to save ? 820 
 
 Blushing, she turned her from the King, 
 
 And to the Douglas gave the ring, 
 
 As if she wished her sire to speak 
 
2d THE LALY OF THE LAKE. fCANTO VI. 
 
 The suit that stained her glowing ciicuk. — 
 
 '' Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force, 825 
 
 And stubborn justice holds her course. 
 
 ]\Ialcolm, come foith !" — And, at the word, 
 
 Down kneeled the Grtctne to Scotland's Lord. 
 
 "For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, 
 
 From thee may Vengeance claim her dues, 830 
 
 Who nurtured underneath our smile. 
 
 Hast paid our care by treacherous wile, 
 
 And sought, amid thy faithful clan, 
 
 A refuge for an outlawed man, 
 
 Dishonouring thus thy loyal name, — 835 
 
 Fetters and warder for the Graeme!" — 
 
 His chain of gold the King unstrung, 
 
 The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung, 
 
 Then gently drew the glittering band, 
 
 And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. 840 
 
 Harp of the North, farewell ! The hills grow dark, 
 
 On purple peaks a deeper shade descending ; 
 In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark, 
 
 The deer, half seen, are to the covert wending. 
 J'csLUiie thy wizard elm ! the fountain lending, 845 
 
 And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy : 
 Thy numbers sweet with Nature's vespers blending, 
 
 With distant echo from the fold and lea 
 And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee. 
 
 Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp! S5Q 
 
 Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, 
 And little reck I of the C(!nsure sharp 
 
 Mav idiv cavil at an idle lav, 
 ^luch have I owed thy strains on life's long way, 
 
 Through secret woes the world has never known, 855 
 When on the weary night dawned wearier day, 
 
 And bitter v.'as the grief devoured alone. 
 Tnat 1 o'erlive such woes, E'^chantress! is thino ovra. 
 
CANTO VI.] THE QUARD-ROOM. 27 
 
 Hark ! as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 
 
 Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string! 8G0 
 
 'Tis now a Seraph hold, with touch of hre, 
 
 'Tis now the hrush of Fairy's frolic wing. 
 Receding now, the dying numbers ring 
 
 Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell, 
 And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring 870 
 
 A wandering witch-note of the distant spc41 — 
 And now, 'tis silence all ! — Enchantress, fare the well 1 
 
NOTES. 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 SIXTH CANTO. 
 
 Morn's genial influence roused a mi»w(rel gray. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza 1. 
 
 That highland chieftains, to a late period, retained in their 
 Bervice, the bard, as a family oflficer, admits of very easy 
 i'.voof. 
 
 The (xrceme. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza vi. 
 
 The ancient and powerful family of Graham (which for 
 metrical reasons, is here spelled after the Scottish pronun- 
 ciation) held extensive possessions in the counties of Dum- 
 barton and Stirling. 
 
 This harp which erst Saint Modan swayed. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza vii. 
 
 I am not prepared to show that Saint Modan was a performer 
 on the harp. It was. however, no unsaintly accomplish- 
 ment ; for Saint Dunstan certainly did play upon that 
 instniment* which, retaining as was natural, a portion of 
 the s-mctity attached to its master's character announced 
 future events by its si^ontaneous sound. 
 
 Ere Dovohises to rain driven, 
 
 Were exiled from their native heaven. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza viii. 
 
 The downfall of the Douglases of the house of Angus, 
 during the reign of James V. is the event alluded to in the 
 text. 
 
 In Holy-Bood a knight he slew. 
 
 Canto 2, Stanza lii. 
 
 Thifl was by no mean.? an uncommon occun-ence in the 
 court of Scotnnd ; nay, the presence of the sovereign him- 
 B ?lf scarcely restrained the ferocious and inveterate feuds 
 which {were' the perpetual source of bloodshed among tha 
 Scottish nobility. 
 
80 TH£ LADY OF THE LAKE. [OANTO VX. 
 
 And Snowdoun'8 knight is Scotland'i king. 
 
 Canto 6f Stanza ZZTI. 
 
 James V., of whom we are treating, was a monarch whose 
 
 ?;ood and benevolent intentions often rendered his romantic 
 reaks venial, if not respectable, since, from his anxious 
 attention to the interests of the lower and most oppressed 
 class of his subjects, he was, as we have seen, popularly 
 t ermed the King of the Commons. For the purpose of seeing 
 that justice was regularly administered, and frequently from 
 the less justifiable motive of gallantry, he used to traverse 
 the vicinage of his several palaces in various disguises. 
 
 -Stirling's tower 
 
 Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims. 
 
 Canto 6, Stanza xxviil. 
 
 William of Worcester, who wrote about the middle of the 
 fifteenth century, calls Stirling Castle, Snowdoun. 
 
 S27» UF CANTO SIZTBi