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 LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 CRAIG KERR
 
 THE 
 
 ADY OF THE LAKE 
 
 ^ iaoem. 
 
 BY WALTER SCOTT, ESQ 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY CLARK &, AUSTIN, 
 
 KO. 205 BROADWAY. 
 ! 1851. 
 
 5^
 
 TO THE MOST \OBLE 
 
 JOHN JAMES, 
 
 MAKquiS OF ABERCORN 
 
 &,c. &.C. &LC. 
 
 THIS POEM IS INSChlHED BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR
 
 ARGJJMEINT. 
 
 The Scene of the following Poem is laid chiefly 
 in the \'icinity of Loch Katrine, in the Western 
 Highlands of Perthshire. The Time of Action 
 includes Six Days, and the transactions of each 
 day occupy a Canto.
 
 COiNTE^^TS. 
 
 PAOK 
 
 CANTO 1. The Chase, 9 
 
 II. The Island, 33 
 
 III. The GATHERING;! 59 
 
 IV. The Prophecy, 81 
 
 V. The Combat 105 
 
 VT. The Guard-Room, 131
 
 10 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto I. 
 
 Fair danres and crested chiefs attention bow'd ; 
 For still the burden of thy Minstrelsy 
 Was knighthood's dauntless deed, and beauty "s 
 matchless eye. 
 
 O wake once morel how rude soe'er the hand 
 
 That ventures o'er thy raagic maze to stray ; 
 O wake once more 1 though scarce my skill coa- 
 mand 
 Some leeble echoing of thine earlier lay ; 
 Tiiough harsh and fai#t, and soon to die away. 
 
 And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 
 Vet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 
 The wizard note has not been touched m 
 vain. 
 Then silent be no morel Enchantiess wukt 
 ttgninl
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 i. 
 
 THE stag at eve had drunk his fill, 
 Where danced the moon en Monan's rill, 
 And deep his midnight lair had made, 
 In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; 
 But, when the sun his beacon red 
 Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head. 
 The deep-mouthed blood-hound's heavy bay- 
 Resounded up the rocky way, 
 And faint, from further distance borne, 
 Wero heard the clanging hoof and honj. 
 
 II. 
 
 As chief who hears his warder call, 
 
 "•To arms ! the foemen storm the wall,'" — 
 
 The antler'd monarch of the waste 
 
 Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. 
 
 But e'er his fleet career he took. 
 
 The dew-drops from his flanks he shook ; 
 
 Like crested leader proud and high, 
 
 Tossed Lis beamed frontlet to the sky ; 
 
 A moment gazed adown the dale, 
 
 A moment snuffed the tainted gale, 
 
 A moment listeued 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 forwara free and far, 
 
 Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var.
 
 12 LADY OF THE LAKE. Ca.iie- I 
 
 111. 
 
 Telled on the view tlie openiii;^ pack. 
 Rock, glen, and cavern paid iheni back; 
 To many a mingled sound at once, 
 The awakened mountain gave response. 
 An hundred dogs bayed deep and strong, 
 Clattered an hundred steeds aloiifj. 
 Tlieir peal the merry horns rung nut. 
 An hundred voices joined the siioiit ; 
 With hark and whoop and wild halloo 
 \o rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. 
 Far from the tumult fled the roe. 
 Close in her covert cowered the doe, 
 The falcon, from her cairn on liigli, 
 Cast on the rout a wondering eye, 
 Till far beyond her piercing ken 
 The hurricane had swept the glen. 
 Faint, and more faint, its failing din 
 Resumed from cavern, chflT, and linn. 
 And silence settled, wide and still. 
 On the lone wood and mighty liill. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Less loud the sounds of svlvan war 
 Disturbed the heights of XJam-Var, 
 And roused the cavern, where 'tis told 
 A giant made his den of old ; 
 For e'er that steep ascent was won. 
 High in his pathway lumg the sun. 
 And many a gallant, stayed per force, 
 Was fain to breathe his faltering horse ; 
 And of the trackers of the deer 
 Scarce half the lessening pack was near; 
 So shrewdlv on the mountain side, 
 Had the bold burst their mettle tried. 
 
 The noble stag was pausing nov/. 
 Upon the mountain's soutJiern brow.
 
 Canto I. THE CHASE. 13 
 
 Where broad extended, far baneath, 
 The varied realms of fair Menteith. 
 With anxious eye he wandered o'er 
 Mountain and meadow, moss and moor, 
 And pondered refuge from his toil, 
 By far Lochard or Abcribyle. 
 But nearer was tlie copse-wood gray, 
 That waved and wept on Locli-Achray 
 And mingled with the pine-lrees blue 
 On the bold cliffs of Benvenue. 
 Fresh vigour with the hope returned, 
 With flying foot the heath he spurned, 
 Field 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-moor; 
 What reins were tiglitened in despair, 
 When rose Benledis bridge in au- ; 
 Who llagged upon Bochastle's heath. 
 Who shunned to stem the flooded Teitli. — 
 For twice, that day, from shore to shore. 
 The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er. 
 Few v/ere the stragglers, following far. 
 That reached the lake of Vennachar 
 And when the Brigg of Turk was won, 
 The headmost horseman rode alone. 
 
 Alone, but with unbaled 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 drev/, 
 
 The labouring stag stra,ined 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 :
 
 l^ LADY OF THE LAKE. Caiito L 
 
 For, scarce a spear's lengtii from his haunch. 
 
 Vindictive toiled the biood-hounds stanch ; 
 
 Xor nearer might the dogs attain, 
 
 jVor further might the quarr}' strain. 
 
 Thus up the margin ot' tiie lake, 
 
 Between the precipice and brake. 
 
 O'er stock and rock tlieir race tliey take. 
 
 vin. 
 
 The hunter marked that mountain high. 
 The lone lake's western boundary. 
 And deemed tlvo stag must turn to bay, 
 Where that luigo rampart barred the way; 
 Already glorying in the prize. 
 Measured his antlers with his eyes ; 
 For the death-wound, and death-halloo. 
 Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew ; 
 But, thundering as lie came prepared, 
 With ready arm and weapon bored. 
 The wily quarry shunned the shock. 
 And turned liim from the opposing rock ; 
 Then, dashing down a darksome glen. 
 Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, 
 In tlie deep Trosach's wildest nook 
 His solitary refuge look. 
 There while, close couched, the thicket slie<J 
 Cold dews and wild flowers on liis head. 
 He heard the baffled dogs in vain 
 Rave tlu-ough the hollow pass amain, 
 Chiding tlie rocks Uiat yelled-again. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Close on the hounds the hunter came, 
 To cheer them on the vanislied gams; 
 But stumbling in the rugged dell^ 
 The gallant horse exhausted fell. 
 The impatient rider strove in vain 
 To rouse liim with the spur and rein. 
 For the good steed, his labours o'er, 
 Stretched his stiff limbs to rise no more ;
 
 Canto T. THE CHASE. 
 
 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, 
 That highland eagle e'er should feed 
 On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! 
 Wo worth the chase, wo worth the day, 
 That costs thy life, my gallant gray 1" 
 
 X. 
 
 Then through the dell his horn resounds, 
 From vain pursuit to call the hounds. 
 Back limped, with slow and crippled pac® 
 The sulky leaders of the chase ; 
 Close to their master's side they pressed, 
 With drooping tail and humbled crest ; 
 But still the dingle's hollow throat 
 Prolonged the swelling bugle note. 
 The owlets started from their dream, 
 The eagles answered with tlieir scream. 
 Round and around the sounds were cast 
 rill echo seemed an answering blast ; 
 A.nd on the hunter hied his pace. 
 To join some comrades of the chase ; 
 ifet oflen paused, so strange the road, 
 So wondrous were the scenes it showM 
 
 XI. 
 
 The western \^^aves of ebbing day 
 Rolled o'er the glen their level way ; 
 Each purple pe^ik, each flinty ."'pire. 
 Was bathed in floods of living fire. 
 But not a setting beam could glow 
 Within the dark ravines below, 
 Where twin'd the path in shadow hid. 
 Round many a rocky pyramid, 
 Shooting abruptly from the dell 
 Its thunder-splintered pinnacle ; 
 Round many an insulated mass. 
 The native bulwarks of the pass.
 
 16 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto I 
 
 Hui^e as llic tower which builders vain 
 
 Presumptuous piled on Slimar's plain. 
 
 Their rocky summits, split and rent, 
 
 Fonned turret, dome, or battiement. 
 
 Or seemed fantastically set 
 
 With cupola or minaret. 
 
 Wild crests as pag-od ever decked 
 
 Or mosque of eastern architect. 
 
 Nor were these earth-born castles bare, 
 
 Nor lacked tliey many a banner fair ; 
 
 For, from their shivered brows displayed 
 
 Far o'er the unfathomable glade, 
 
 All twinklmg with the dew drop sheen. 
 
 The brier-rose fell in streamers green. 
 
 And creeping shrubs of thousand dies, 
 
 ^Vaved in the west-wind's summer sighs 
 
 XU. 
 Boon nature scattered, free and wild, 
 Each plant or flower, the mountain's child , 
 Here eijlantine embalmed the air, 
 Hawthorn and hazel mingled there ; 
 The primrose pale, and violet flower, 
 Fomid in each cleft a narrow bower ; 
 Fox-glove and night-shade, side by side. 
 Emblems of punishment and pride. 
 Grouped their dark hues with ever}' stain, 
 The weather-beaten crags retain ; 
 With boughs that quaked at every breath, 
 Grav birch and aspln wept beneath ; 
 AloA, tlie ash and warrior oak 
 Cast anchor in the ritled rock ; 
 And, higher yet, tke pine-tree hung 
 His shattered trunk, and frequent llung. 
 Where seemed tiie clilTs to meet on liigh, 
 Flis boughs athwart the narrowed sky. 
 Hiffhest of all, where white peaks glanced. 
 Where filistening streamers waved and danced 
 The waTidcrer's eye could barely view 
 The summer heaven's delicious blue;
 
 Canto I. THE CHASE. 
 
 So wondrou? wild, the whole might seem 
 The scenery of a fairy dream. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep 
 A narrow inlet still and deep, 
 Affording scarce such breadth of brim. 
 As served the wild-duck's brood to swim : 
 Lost for a space, through thickets veering. 
 But broader when again appearing. 
 Tall rocks and tufled knolls their face 
 Could on the dark-blue mirror trace ; 
 And further as the Jiunler strayed, 
 Still broader sweep its channels made. 
 The shaggy mounds no longer stood, 
 Emerging from entangled wood. 
 But, wave-encircled seemed to float. 
 Like castle gir^Ued with its moat ; 
 Yet broader floods extending siiil. 
 Divide them from their parent hill. 
 Till each, retiring, claims to be 
 An islet in an inland sea. 
 
 XIV 
 
 And now, to issue from the glen, 
 
 No pathway meets the wanderer's ken. 
 
 Unless he climb, with footing nice, 
 
 A far projecting precipice. 
 
 The broom's tougli roots hLs ladder made. 
 
 The hazel saplings lent their aid ; 
 
 And thus an airy point he won. 
 
 Where, gleaming with the setting sun. 
 
 One bumish'd sheet of living gold, 
 
 Loch-Katrine lay beneath him rolled, 
 
 In all her length far winding lay. 
 
 With promontory, creek, and bay. 
 
 And islands that, empurpled bright. 
 
 Floated amid the livelier light ; 
 
 And mountains, that like giants stand 
 
 To sentinel enchanted land. 
 B
 
 18 LADY OF THE LAKK. Canio I 
 
 Fligh on the soiilh, ]vigo Bcnvenuo 
 
 Down lo the hike in masses 'Jirow 
 
 Crags, knolls, and mounds, (-unlnscdly hurled. 
 
 The fragments of an earlier world : 
 
 A wilderiniT forest feathered o'er 
 
 (fis ruined sides and sumnut hoar. 
 
 While on the north, ihrouLi^h nnddle air, 
 
 Ben-an heaved high his Ibreiiead bare. 
 
 XV. 
 
 From the steep promontory gazed 
 
 The stranger, lapturcd and amazed. 
 
 And, " What a scene were here," lie cried. 
 
 *' For princely pomp or churchman's pride 
 
 On this bold bro\/, a lordly tower ; 
 
 In that soft vale, a lady's bower : 
 
 On yonder meadow, far away, 
 
 Tiie turrets of a cloisler gray ; 
 
 How blithely might the bugle horn 
 
 Chide, on the lake, the lingering mom ? 
 
 How sweet, at eve, the lover's lute 
 
 Chime, when the groves were still and mule 
 
 And, when the midnight moon did lavo 
 
 Her forehnad in the silver wave. 
 
 How solemn on the ear would como 
 
 The holy matin's distant hum. 
 
 While the deep peal's commanding tono 
 
 Should wake, in yonder islet lone, 
 
 A sainted iiermit from his cell. 
 
 To drop a bead with every knell — 
 
 And bugle, lute, and bell, and all, 
 
 Should each bewildered stranger call 
 
 To friendly feast, and lighted liall. 
 
 XVi. 
 
 • Blithe were it then to wander here ! 
 Hut now, — beshrev/ yon nimble deer.— 
 Like that same herm"its, thin an 1 sparo, 
 The copse must give iny evening fare ;
 
 Canto I THE CHASE. I9 
 
 Some mossy bank my couch must be, 
 Some rustling oak m}' canopy. 
 Yet pass we that ; — the war and chase 
 Give httle choice of resting-place ; — 
 A summer niglit, in green- wood spent, 
 Were but to-morrow's merriment ; — 
 But hosts may in these wilds abound, 
 Such as are better missed than found ; 
 To meet with highland plunderers here 
 Were worse than loss of steed or deer. — 
 I am alone ; — my bugle strain 
 May call some straggler of the tram ; 
 Or fall the worst that may betide, 
 Era now this falchion has been tried." 
 
 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, 
 A little skiff shot to the bay. 
 That round the promontory slee[) 
 Led its deep line in graceful sweep, 
 Eddying, in almost viewless wave, 
 The weeping willow twig to lave, 
 And kiss, with whispering sound and slow, 
 The beach of pebbles bright as snov.^. 
 The boat had touched the silver strand. 
 Just as tlie hunter left his stand. 
 And stood concealed amid the brake 
 To view this Lady of the Lake. 
 The maiden paused, as if again 
 She thought to catch the distant strain. 
 With head up-raised, and look intent, 
 \nd C3'e and ear attentive bent, 
 Vnd locks flung back, and lips apart^ 
 ^ike monument of Grecian art. 
 vrt listening mood she seemed to stand. 
 The guardian Naiad of the strand.
 
 Canto I. LADY OF THE LAKK 2U 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 
 
 A Nvmph. a Naiad, or a Grace, 
 
 Of finer form, or lovelier face ! 
 
 What tiiough the sun, with ardent frowii, 
 
 Hadsliglitly tinj^ed her cheek with brown — 
 
 The sportive toil, which, short and light. 
 
 Had died her i^lowing hue .«-o bright, 
 
 Served too in hastier swell to show 
 
 Short ghmpses of a breusl of snow ; 
 
 What though no rule of courtly grace 
 
 To measured mood had trained lier pace,— 
 
 A foot more light, a step more true, 
 
 Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew; 
 
 Cen the slight hare-bell raised its head. 
 
 Elastic from her airy tread : 
 
 What though upon her speech there hung 
 
 The accents of the mountain tongue,— 
 
 Those silver sounds so soft, so dear. 
 
 The listener l;cld his breath to hear 
 
 XIX. 
 
 A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid, 
 Her satin snood, her silken plsid. 
 Her irolden broach, such binh betrayed. 
 And seldom was a snood amid 
 Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid. 
 Whose glossy black to shame might bring 
 The plumage of the raven's wing ; 
 And seldom o'er a breast so fair 
 Mantled a plaid with modest care ; 
 And never broach the folds combined 
 Above a heart more good and kind. 
 Her kindness and her worth to spj, 
 You need but o-azc on Ellen's eye ; 
 Not Katrine, in her mirror blue, 
 Gives back the shan-cry banks more true, 
 Tlian ever}' free-born glance confessed 
 The guileless movements of her breast ,
 
 Canto I. THE CHASE. 3] 
 
 \Viiether joy danced in her dark eye, 
 
 Or wo or pity claimed a sigh, 
 
 Or filial love was glowing tliere, 
 
 Or meek devotion poured a prayer. 
 
 Or tale of injury called forth 
 
 The indignant spirit of the north. 
 
 One only passion, unrevealed, 
 
 With maiden pride the maid concealed. 
 
 Yet not less purely felt the flame ; — 
 
 O need I tell that passion's name I 
 
 XX. 
 
 Impatient of the silent horn, 
 Now on the gale lier voice was borne : — 
 *^ Father V she cried ; the rocks around 
 Loved to prolong the gentle sound. 
 A while she paused, no answer came, — 
 '•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. 
 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 sv,-an would swing. 
 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 yontliful maidens wont to fly. 
 
 XXL 
 
 On his bold visage, middle atre 
 Had slightly pressed its signet sagn. 
 Vet had not quenched the open trutli, 
 And fiery vehemence of youth ; 
 Forward and frolic glee was there, 
 The will to do, the sou] in dare.
 
 *39 THE CHASE. Canto I 
 
 The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire, 
 
 Of hasty love, or headlong ire. 
 
 His limbs were cast in manly mould. 
 
 For hardy sports, or contest bold ; 
 
 And though in peaceful garb arrayed. 
 
 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. 
 
 And sheathed in armour trod the shore. 
 
 Slighting the petty need he showed. 
 
 He told of his benighted road. 
 
 His ready speech flowed fair and free, 
 
 [n phrase of gentlest courtesy. 
 
 Yet seemed that tone, and gesture bland 
 
 Less used to sue than to command. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 A while the maid the stranger eyed, 
 And, reassured, at last replied. 
 That highland halls were open still 
 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 ; 
 On yonder mountain's purple head 
 Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bled, 
 And our broad nets have swept the mere, 
 To furrtish forth your evening cheer." 
 **• Now, by the rood, my lovely maid, 
 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, 
 I ne'er before, believe me, fair. 
 Have ever drawn your mountain air. 
 Till on this lake's romantic strand, 
 J^ I found a fay in fairy land/'
 
 CajUo I. THE CHASF 23 
 
 2.XIU. 
 
 •'' i well believe," the maid replied, 
 As her light skiff approached the side, 
 •' I well believe, that ne'er before 
 Your foot has trod Loch-Katrine's shorts 
 But yet, as far as yesternight. 
 Old Allan-bane foretold your plight,- 
 A gray-haired sire, whose eye intent 
 Was on the visioned future bent. 
 He saw your steed, a dappled gray, 
 Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; 
 Painted exact your form and mien. 
 Your hunting suit of Lincoln green. 
 That tasseird horn so gayly gilt. 
 That falchion's crooked blade and hilt. 
 That cap with heron's plumage trim, 
 And yon two hounds so dark and grim. 
 He bade that all should ready be. 
 To grace a guest of fair degree ; 
 But light I held his prophecy. 
 And deemed it was my father's horn. 
 Whose echoes o'er tlie lake were borne."' 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The stranger smiled : — " since to your home, 
 
 A destined errant knight I come. 
 
 Announced by prophet sooth and old. 
 
 Doomed, doubtless, for achievement bold. 
 
 I'll lightly front each high emprize. 
 
 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 ; 
 
 For seldom, sure, if e'er before, 
 
 His noble hand had grasped an oar' 
 
 Yet with main strength his strokes he drew, 
 
 And o'er the lake the shallop tlew ; 
 
 With heads erect, and whimpering cry, 
 
 The hounds behind their passage ply.
 
 24 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 1 
 
 Nor frequent does the bright oar break 
 The darkening mirror of tlie lake. 
 Until the rocky isle they reach. 
 And moor their shallop on the beach. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The stranger Wewcd tJie shore around : 
 'Twas all so close with copse-wood bound. 
 Nor track nor pathway might declaro 
 That human foot frequented there, 
 Until tlie mountain-maiden showed 
 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 ; 
 Here, for retreat in dangerous iniur. 
 Some clxief had framed a ru^uc bowt^r. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 It was a lodge of ample size. 
 
 But strange of structure aiid device ; 
 
 Of such materials, as around 
 
 The workman's hand had readiest found. 
 
 Lopped of their boughs, their hoar Lrunks barod. 
 
 And by liie hatchet rudely squared. 
 
 To ffive the walls their destined height. 
 
 The sturdy oak and ash unite; 
 
 While moss and clay and leaves cumbnied 
 
 To fence each crevice from tlie wuid. 
 
 The lighter pine-trees, over-head 
 
 Their slender length fur rafters spread ; 
 
 And withered heath and rushes dry 
 
 Supphed a russet canopy. 
 
 Due westv.-ard, fronting to the green. 
 
 A rural portico was seen. 
 
 Aloft on native pillars borne. 
 
 Of mountain fir wiih bark unshorn. 
 
 Where Eilei/s hand had taught to twine 
 
 The ivy and Ida^an vme.
 
 Cunto I. THE CHASE. 25 
 
 The clematis, the favoured flower, 
 Which boasts the name of virgin-bower 
 And every hardy plant could bear 
 L-och Katrine's keen and searching air. 
 An instant in this porch she staid, 
 And ^yly to the stranger said, 
 " On heaven and on thy lady call, 
 And enter the enchanted hall." 
 
 XXV U. 
 
 "My hope, my heaven, my trust must bo, 
 
 My gentle guide, in following ihee." — 
 
 He crossed tlie thresiiold — and a clang 
 
 Of angry steel that instant rang. 
 
 To his bold brow his spirit rushed ; 
 
 But soon ibr vain alarm he blusp.ed, 
 
 When on the floor lie saw displayed, 
 
 Cause of the din, a naked blade 
 
 Dropped from the shoath, that careless flung 
 
 Upon a stag's huire antlers swung ; 
 
 For all around, tiie walls to grace, 
 
 Hung trophies of the fight or chase : 
 
 A target there, a bugle here, 
 
 A batlle-axe, a hunting spear, 
 
 And broad-swords, bows, and arrows store. 
 
 With the tusked trophies of tiie boar. 
 
 Here grins the wolf as when he died ; 
 
 And there the wild-cat's brindled liido 
 
 The frontlet of the elk adorns, 
 
 Or mantles o'er the bison's horns : 
 
 Pennons and flags defaced and stained-. 
 
 That blackening streaks of blood retained. 
 
 And deer-skins, dapi)led, dun. and white, 
 
 With otter's fur and seal's unite, 
 
 [n rude and uncouth tapestry all 
 
 To garni sji forth the sylvan hall. 
 
 XXVI i J. 
 
 The wondering stranger round him gazoG 
 And ne.xt the fallen weapon raised ;
 
 26 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto L 
 
 Few were the arms whose sinewy strcngtli 
 
 Sufficed to stretcli it forth at lenorth. 
 
 And as the brand lie poised and swayed, 
 
 " I never knew but one," he said, 
 
 " Whose stalwart arm mig-ht brook to wield 
 
 A blade like this in battle field."' 
 
 She sighed, then smiled, and took the word ; 
 
 " You see tJie guardian chanipion"'s sword : 
 
 As hght it trembles in his hand, 
 
 As in my grasp a hazel wand. 
 
 My sire's tall tbmi might grace the part 
 
 Of Ferragus, or Ascabart ; 
 
 But in the absent giant's hold 
 
 Aro women now. and menials old."" 
 
 XXLX. 
 
 The mistress of the mansion came, 
 
 Mature of age, a graceful dame ; 
 
 Whose easy step and stately port 
 
 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, 
 
 That liospitality 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 dooi 
 
 Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er. 
 
 At length his rank the stranger names 
 
 The knight of Snowdoun, James Filz-Jaxnes 
 Lord of a barren heritage, 
 Which his brave sires, from age to age. 
 By their good swords had held with toil ; 
 His sire had fallen in such turmoil. 
 And he, God wot, was forced to stand 
 Ofl for his right with blade in liand. 
 This morning v»^ith L.»Kd Moray's Iraui 
 He chased a stalwart stag in vain.
 
 CttntoL THE CHASE. 27 
 
 Oucstripped his comrades, missed the deer 
 Lost his good steed, and wandered liere." 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Fain would the luiight in turn require 
 Tlie name and state of Ellen's sire : 
 Well showed the elder lady's mien. 
 That courts and cities she had seen ; 
 ^llen, though more her looks displayed 
 The simple grace of sylvan maid, 
 In speech and gesture, form and face, 
 Showed 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 , 
 Or Ellen, innocently gay. 
 Turned all inquiry hght away. 
 " Wierd women we ! by dale and down, 
 We dwell afar from tower and town. 
 We stem the flood, we ride the blast, 
 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. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 oldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, 
 
 Sleep the sleep that knows not breakini, 
 Dream of battled fields no more, 
 
 Days of danger, nights of waking. 
 In our isle's enchanted hall. 
 
 Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, 
 Fairy strains of music fall, 
 
 Every sense in slumber dewing.
 
 28 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto l 
 
 Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, 
 Dream of fighting fields no more ; 
 Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, 
 Morn of toil, nor night of waking. 
 
 No rude sound shall reach thine ear. 
 
 Armour's clancf, nor war-steed champing, 
 Trump nor pibroch summon here 
 
 Mustering clan, nor squadron tramping. 
 Vet the lark's shrill fife may come 
 
 At the daybreak fi-otn the fallow, 
 And the bittern sound his drum, 
 
 Booming from the sedgy shallow. 
 Ruder sounds shall none be near. 
 Guards nor warders challenge here. 
 Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing 
 Shouting clans or squadrons stamping. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 She paused — then, blushing, led the lay 
 To grace the stranger of the day ; 
 Her mellow notes a while prolong 
 The cadence of the flowing song, 
 Till to her lips in measured frame 
 The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 
 
 SONG CONTINUED. 
 
 Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done. 
 
 While our slumb'rous spells assail ye. 
 Dream not with the rising sun. 
 
 Bugles here shall sound reveillie. 
 Sleep 1 tjie deer is in his den ; 
 
 Sleep : thy hounds are by thee lyin;?, 
 Sleep 1 nor dream in yonder glen, 
 
 How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
 Huntsman, rest 1 thy chase is done. 
 Think Jiot of the rising sun. 
 For at dawning to assail ye. 
 Here no bugles sound reveillie.
 
 Canto I. THE CHASE. Uy 
 
 xxxni. 
 
 The hall was cleared — the stranger's bed 
 
 Was there of mountain heather spread. 
 
 Where oft a hundred guests had lain. 
 
 And dreamed their forest sports again. 
 
 But vainly did the heath-flower shed 
 
 [ts moorland fragrance round his head ; 
 
 Not Ellen's spell had lulled lo rest 
 
 The fever of his troubled breast ; 
 
 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, 
 
 His standard fails, his honour's lost. 
 
 Then, — from my couch may heavenly might. 
 
 Chase that worst phantom of the night 1 — 
 
 Again returned the scenes of youth, 
 
 Of confident undoubting truth ; 
 
 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. 
 
 As if they parted yesterday. 
 
 And doubt distracts him at the view, 
 
 O were his senses false or true ! 
 
 Dreamed he of death, or broken vow, 
 
 Or is it all a vision now ! 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 At length, with Ellen in a grove, 
 He seemed to walk and speak of love. 
 She listened with a blush and sigh, 
 His suit was wa-rm, lii? liopes wero high. 
 He sought her yielded hand to clasp, 
 And a cold gauntlet met iiis grasp : 
 The phantom's sex was changed and gone, 
 Upon its head a helmet shone ;
 
 30 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 1 
 
 Slowly enlarged to giant size, 
 
 With darkened clieek and threatening eyes. 
 
 The gristly visage, stern and hoar. 
 
 To Ellen still a likeness bore. — 
 
 He woke, and, panting with affright. 
 
 Recalled the vision ol the night ; 
 
 The earth's decaying brands were red. 
 
 And deep and dusky lustre shed. 
 
 Half showing, half concealing all 
 
 The uncouth trophies of the hall. 
 
 Mid those the stranger fixed his eye 
 
 Where that huge falchion hung on high. 
 
 And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng 
 
 Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along. 
 
 Until, the giddy whirl to cure, 
 
 He rose, and sought the moonshine pure. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The wild rose, eglantine, and broom, 
 
 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 ; 
 
 Wild were the heart whose passion's swa> 
 
 Could rage beneath the sober ray. 
 
 He felt its calm, that warrior guest, 
 
 While thus he communed with liis breast •= .^^^^ 
 
 " Why is it at each turn I trace 
 
 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.'' 
 
 Can I not frame a fevered dream, 
 
 But still the Douglas is the theme .' — 
 
 ril dream no more — by manly mind 
 
 Not even in sleep is will resigned. 
 
 My midnight orison said o'er, 
 
 ril turn to rest, ami n.^-^oui xio more."
 
 Canto 1. THE CHASE. 61 
 
 His midnight orison he told, 
 A prayer with every bead of gold, 
 Consigned to heaven his cares and woes. 
 And sunk in undisturbed repose ; 
 Until the heath-cock shrilly crew. 
 And morning dawned on Benvenua 
 
 GKl) OF CANTO FiiiST
 
 THE 
 
 LABY OF THE hAKE. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 THE ISLAND. 
 
 I. 
 
 AT mom the black-cock trims his jetty A'wg. 
 
 'Tis morning prompts the hnnets bfitiiest lay , 
 All nature's cliildren feel the matin spring 
 
 Of life reviving, with reviving day; 
 And wliile yon little bark glides down the bay, 
 
 Wafting the stranger on liis way again. 
 Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel gray, 
 
 And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain, 
 
 Mixed with the sounding harp, O white-haired 
 Allan-bane! 
 
 n. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Not faster yonder rowers' might 
 
 Flings from their oars the spray, 
 Not faster yonder rippling bright, 
 That tracks the shallop's course in light, 
 
 Melts in the lake away, 
 Than men from memory erase 
 The benefits of former days ; 
 Then, stranger, go, good speed the while, 
 Nor think again of the louelv isle.
 
 34 r.ADY OF THE LAKE. Canto J\ 
 
 High place to thee in royal court, 
 
 High place in battle line, 
 Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport. 
 Where Beauty sees the brave resort, 
 
 The honoured meed be thine. 
 True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, 
 Thy lady constant, kind and dear, 
 And lost in love's and friendship's smils, 
 Be memory of the lonely isle. 
 
 III. 
 SONG CONTINUED. 
 
 But if beneath yon southern sky 
 
 A plaided si, anger roam. 
 Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh, 
 And sunken check, and heavy eye, 
 
 Pine for his highland home ; 
 Then, warrior, then be thine to show 
 Tho care that sooths a wanderer's wo ; 
 Hemember then thy hap ere while 
 A stranger in the lonely isle. 
 Or if on life's uncertain main 
 
 Mishap shall mar tliy sail ; 
 If faithful, wise, and brave in vam. 
 Wo, want, and exile thou sustain 
 
 Beneath the fickle gale ; ,l. 
 
 Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, ^ 
 
 On thankless courts, or friends estranged, \ 
 
 But come where kindred worth shall smilb 
 To greet thee in the lonely isle. 
 
 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 
 The harper on the islet beach, 
 Reclined against a blighted tree. 
 As wasted, gray, and worn as he.
 
 Canto 11. THE ISLAND. 3S 
 
 To minstrel meditation given, 
 
 His reverend brow was raised to heaven. 
 
 As from the rising sun to claim 
 
 A sparkle of inspiring tlame ; 
 
 His hand, reclined upon the wire, 
 
 Seemed watching the awakening fire. 
 
 »So still he sate, as those who wait 
 
 Till judgment speak the doom of fate ; 
 
 So still, as if no breeze might darG 
 
 To lift one lock of hoary hair ; 
 
 So still, as life itself were fled, 
 
 In the last sound his harp had sped 
 
 V. 
 
 Upon a rock with lichens wild, 
 Beside him Ellen sat and smiled. 
 Smiled she to see the stately drake 
 Lead forth his fleet upon the lake. 
 While her vexed spaniel, from the beach. 
 Bayed at the prize beyond his reach ; 
 Yet tell me then the maid who knows. 
 Why deepened on iier cheek the rose ? — 
 Forgive, forgive. Fidelity I 
 Perchance the maiden smiled to see 
 Yen parting lingerer wave adieu. 
 And stop and turn to wave anev/ ; 
 And, lovely ladies, ere your ire 
 Condemn the heroine of my lyre, 
 Show me tlie fair would scorn to spy 
 And prize such conquest of her eye I 
 
 VL 
 
 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; 
 And after, oft that Knight would say 
 That not when prize of festal day 
 Was dealt him by tlie brightest fair. 
 Who e'er wore jewel in her hair.
 
 36 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 11. 
 
 So highly did Iiis bosom swell, 
 
 As at that simple mute farewell. 
 
 Now with a trusty mountain gui 
 
 And his dark stag-liounds by his side, 
 
 He parts — the maid, unconscious still. 
 
 Watched him wind slowly round tlie hil! 
 
 But when his stately form was hid. 
 
 The guardian in her bosom chid — 
 
 ''Thy Malcolm I vain and selfish maid T' 
 
 'Twas thus upbraiding conscience said, 
 
 " Not so had JNIalcolm idly hung 
 
 On the smooth phrase of southern tongue ; 
 
 " Not so had Malcolm strained liiseyo 
 
 The step of parting fair to spy." — 
 
 " Wake, Allan-banc,-'' aloud she cried. 
 
 To the old minstrel by her side, 
 
 " Arouse thee from thy moody dream ! 
 
 I'll give thy harp lieroic theme, 
 
 And warm thee with a noble name : 
 
 Pour forth the glory of the GrcBmc.'"'- 
 
 Scarce from her lip the word had rushed. 
 
 When deep the conscious maiden blushed, 
 
 For of his clan, in hall and bower, 
 
 Young Malcolm Gneme was held the Qowe^ 
 
 VJL 
 
 The minstrel waked his harp — three times 
 Across the well-known martial chimes, 
 And thrice their high heroic pride 
 In melancholy murmurs died. 
 
 '' Vainl3^"thou bidst, O noble maid," 
 
 Clasping his withered hands, he said. 
 
 '•'■ Vainly thou bidst me wake tlie strain. 
 
 Though all unwont to bid in v;).in. 
 
 Alas fthan mine a mightier iuuid 
 
 Has tuned my harp, my strings has spanned 
 
 I touch the chords of joy, but low 
 
 And mournful answer notes of wo ; 
 
 And the proud march which victors tread. 
 
 Sinks in the waihng for llie dead. — 
 
 1
 
 Canto II. THE ISLAND. 3? 
 
 O well for me, if mine alone 
 
 That dirge's deep prophetic tone I 
 
 If, as my tuneful fathers said, 
 
 This harp, which erst Saint Modan swayed, 
 
 Can thus its master's fate foretell, 
 
 Than welcome bo tlie minstrel's knell I" 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But ah ! dear lady, thus it sighed 
 The eve thy sainted motiior died ; 
 And such the sounds which, while I strove 
 To wake a lay of war or love. 
 Came marring all the festal mirth, 
 Appalling me who gave them birth. 
 And, disobedient to my call. 
 Wailed loud tiirough Bolhwell's bannered halL 
 Ere Douglases, to ruin driven, 
 Were exiled from their native heaven. — 
 Oh I if yet worse mishap and wo 
 My master's house must undergo. 
 Or aught but weai to Ellen fair. 
 Brood in tliese accents of despair, 
 No future hard, sad harp ! shall fling 
 Triumph or rapture froni thy string; 
 One short, one final strain shall flow, 
 Fraught v.ith unutterable v/o, 
 Then shivered shall thy fragments lie, 
 Thy master cast him down and die.'- 
 
 IX. 
 
 Soothing she answered him, " Assm.^, 
 
 Mine honoured friend, the fears of -ige ; 
 
 All melodies to thee are known, 
 
 That harp has rung, or pipe has blown, 
 
 In lowland vale, or highland glen, 
 
 From Tweed to Spey — what marvel, then, 
 
 At times, unbidden notes should rise, 
 
 Confusedly bound in memory's ties. 
 
 Entangling, as they rush along, 
 
 The war-march with the funeral son^. —
 
 38 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto Vi 
 
 Small ground is now for bodincr fear ; 
 
 Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 
 
 My sire, in native virtue great, 
 
 Resigning lordship, lands, and state, 
 
 Not then to fortinie more resigned. 
 
 Than yonder oak might give the wind ; 
 
 The graceful foliage storms may reave, 
 
 The noble stem they cannot grieve. 
 
 For me," — she stopped, and, looking round 
 
 Plucked a blue hare-bell from the ground. 
 
 " For me, whose memory scarce conveys 
 
 An image of more splendid days, 
 
 This little flower, that loves the lea. 
 
 May well my simple emblem be ; 
 
 It drinks heaven's dew as blithe 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 
 
 He ne'er saw coronet so fair." 
 
 Then playfully the chaplet wild 
 
 She wreathed in her dark locks, and smiled 
 
 X. 
 
 flcr smile, her speech, with winning sway 
 Wiled the old harper's mood away ; 
 With sucJa a look as hermits throw 
 When angels stoop to sooth their wo, 
 He gazed till fond regret and pride 
 Thrilled to a tear, then thus replied • 
 " Loveliest and best I thou little know'sl 
 The rank, the honours thou liast lost ; 
 O might I live to see thee grace. 
 In Scotland's court, thy birth right place, 
 To see my favourite's step advance, 
 The lightest in the courtly dance. 
 The cause of every gallant's sigh. 
 And leading star of every eye. 
 And theme of every minstrel's art, 
 The Lady of the Bleeding Heart 1"+ 
 t Tlie well-known cognizance of the Douglas family
 
 Canto II. THE ISLAND. 3U 
 
 XI. 
 
 '' Gay dreams are these," the maiden criad 
 (Light was her accent, yet she sighed,) 
 " This mossy rock, my friend, to me 
 Is worth gay chair and canopy ; 
 Nor would my footstep sptuig more gay 
 In courtly dance than bhllie strathspey ; 
 Nor half so pleased mine ear incline 
 To roval minstrel's lay as thine : 
 And then for suiters proud and high. 
 To bend before my conquering eye, 
 Thou, flattering bard, thyself wilt say, 
 That g'iyi Sir 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, delay 
 A Lennox foray — for a day." 
 
 XII. 
 
 The ancient bard his glee repressed : 
 
 " 111 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 ; 
 
 I saw, when back the dirk he drew. 
 
 Courtiers give place before the stride 
 
 Of the undaunted homicide ; 
 
 And since, tliough outlawed, hath his hard 
 
 i*"'ull sternly kept his mountain land. 
 
 Who else dare give, — ah ! wo the day. 
 
 That I such hated truth should say — 
 
 The Douglas, like a stricken deer. 
 
 Disowned by every noble peer, 
 
 Even the rude refuge we have here ? 
 
 Alas, this wild marauding chief 
 
 Alone might hazard our relief. 
 
 And now thy maiden charms expand, 
 
 Looks for his guerdon in thy hand; 
 
 Full soon may dispensation sought. 
 
 To back his suit, from Rome be brought.
 
 40 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IL 
 
 Then, though an exile on the hill, 
 Thy father, as the Douglas still, 
 Be held in reverence and fear. 
 But though to R.oderick thou'rt so dear, 
 That thou might'st guide with silken thread 
 Slave of thy will, this chieftain dread ; 
 Yet, O loved maid, thy mirth refrain 1 
 Thy hand is on a lion's mane." 
 
 XIII. 
 
 "Minstrel," the maid replied, and high 
 
 Her father's soul glanced in 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 
 
 She sorrowed o'er her sister's '^liild ; 
 
 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, 
 
 Allan! Sir Roderick should command 
 
 My blood, my life, — but not my hand. 
 
 Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell :f^ 
 
 A vot'rcss in Maronna's cell ; fc^ 
 
 Rather through realms beyond the sea, 
 
 Seeking the world's cold charity. 
 
 Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word, 
 
 And ne'er the name of Douglas heard, 
 
 An outcast pilgrim will she rove, 
 
 Than wed the man she cannot love. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Thou shakcst, good friend, thy tresses gray 
 That pleading look, what can it say 
 But what I own:* — I grant him brave, 
 But wild as Bracklinn's thundering wave; 
 And generous — save vindictive mood, 
 Or jealous transport chafe his blood :
 
 KjnrAo n. THE ISLAND. 
 
 ', ^raiit, him true to friendly band, 
 
 As liis claymore is to his hand; 
 
 But O ! tliat very blade of stcoi 
 
 More mercy ibr a foe would feel : 
 
 I jrraut him liberal, to fling 
 
 An>ong liis clan the wealth they brinfp. 
 
 When back by lake and glen they wind, 
 
 And in the lowland leave behind, 
 
 Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 
 
 A mass of ashes slacked with blood. 
 
 The hand, that for my father fought, 
 
 I lionour as his danghter ought; 
 
 But can I clasp it reeking red. 
 
 From peasants slaughtered in their slied.^ 
 
 No ! v/ildly while his virtues gleam, 
 
 They make his passions darker seem, 
 
 And flr^sh along his spirit high, 
 
 Like hglitning o'er the midnight sky. 
 
 While yet a child, — and children know, 
 
 Instinctive tauofht, the friend and t'oe, — 
 
 I shuddered at lus brow of gloom, 
 
 His shadowy plaid, and sable plume ; 
 
 A rnaiden grown, I ill could bear 
 
 His haughty mien and lordly air ; 
 
 But if thou join'st a suitor's claim, 
 
 in serious mood, to Roderick's name, 
 
 I thrill with anguish I or, if e'er 
 
 A. Douglas knew the word, with fear. 
 
 To cliange such odious theme were best, — 
 
 What tlunk'st thou of our stranger guest?" 
 
 XV. 
 
 " What think I of him ? — wo the v.'hile 
 That brought such wanderer to our isle ! 
 Thy father's battle brand of yore 
 For Tyncman forged by fairy lore. 
 What time he leagued, no longer foes. 
 His Border spears with Flotspur's bowa« 
 Did, self-unscabbarded, foreshow 
 The footstep of a secret foe.
 
 42 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IL 
 
 If courtly spy, and harboured here, 
 
 What may wc for the Douglas fear? 
 
 What for this island ; deemed of old 
 
 Clan- A [pine's last and surest hold ? 
 
 If neither spy nor foe, I pray 
 
 W^hat yet may jealous Roderick say ?- 
 
 Nay, wave not thy disdainful head 1 
 
 Bethink thee of the discord dread, 
 
 That kindled when at Beltane game 
 
 Thou led'st the dance with Malcolm Grcenie- 
 
 Still, though thy sire the peace renewed. 
 
 Smoulders in Roderick's breast the feud ; 
 
 Beware 1 — But hark, what sounds are these '' 
 
 My dull ears catch no faltering breeze. 
 
 No weeping birch, nor aspens wake, 
 
 Nor breath is dimpUng in the lake ; 
 
 Still is the canna's* hoary beard — 
 
 Yet, by my minstrel faith, 1 heard — 
 
 And hark again I some pipe of war 
 
 Sends the bold pibroch from afar." 
 
 XVL 
 
 Far up the lengthened lake were spied 
 
 Four darkening specks upon the tide, 
 
 That, slow enlarging on the view, % 
 
 Four manned and masted barges grew, 
 
 And bearing dov.'nwards from Glengyle, 
 
 Steered full upon the lonely isle ; 
 
 The point of Briuncb.oil 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, 
 
 Spears, pikes, and axes, flash in air. 
 
 Now might you see ihe tartans brave, 
 
 And plaids and plumage dance and wave 5 
 
 Now see the bonnets sink and lise, 
 
 As his tough oar the rower plies ; 
 
 * Cotton-grass
 
 Canto II. THE ISLAND. 43 
 
 See, flashing at each sturdy stroke, 
 
 The wave ascending into smoke ; 
 
 See the proud pipers on the bow. 
 
 And mark the gaudy streamers flovr 
 
 From their loud chanters* down, and sweep 
 
 The furrowed bosom of tlie deep, 
 
 As rushing through the lake, amain 
 
 They plied the ancient Highland strain. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Ever, as on they bore, more loud 
 And louder rung the pibroch proud. 
 At first the sounds, by distance tame, 
 Mellowed along the waters came, 
 And, lingering long by cape and bay 
 Wailed every harsher note away ; 
 Then, bursting bolder on the ear, 
 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, 
 A.nd hurrying at the signal dread, 
 The battered earth returns their tread ; 
 Then prelude light, of livelier tone. 
 Expressed their merry marching on. 
 E'er peal of closing battle rose, 
 With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows; 
 And mimic din of stroke and ward, 
 As broad-sword upon target jarred ; 
 And groaning pause, e'er yet again. 
 Condensed, the battle yelled amain ; 
 The rapid charge, the rallying shout. 
 Retreat borne headlong into rout ; 
 And bursts of triumph, to declare 
 Clan- Alpine's conquest — all v/ere there. 
 Nor ended thus the strain ; but slov/, 
 Sunk in a moan prolonged and low, 
 
 * Tbe drone of the bag pipe.
 
 44 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 11 
 
 And changed the conquering clarion swell. 
 For wild lament o'er those that fell. 
 
 XVIIL 
 
 The w ar-pipes ceased ; but lake and lull 
 Were busy with their echoes still, 
 And when they slept, a vocal strain 
 Bade their hoarse chorus wake again, 
 While loud a hundred clansmen raise 
 Their voices in their chief\ain's praise. 
 Eacli boatman, bending to his oar, 
 With measured sweep the burthen bore, 
 In such wild cadence, as the breeze 
 Makes through December's leafless trees 
 The chorus first could Allan know, 
 '' Roderigh Vich Alpine, ho 1 iro l" 
 And near, and nearer as they rowed, 
 Distinct the martial ditty flowed. 
 
 XIX. 
 BOAT SONG. 
 
 Hail to the chief who in triumph advances. 
 
 Honoured and blessed be the ever-green pinel 
 Long may the tree in his banner that glances, 
 Flovirish, the shelter and grace of our line I 
 
 Heaven send it happy dew. 
 
 Earth lend it sap anew, 
 Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, 
 
 "\Vhile every highland glen 
 
 Sends our shouts back agen, 
 " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ha 1 ieroe 1" 
 
 Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain. 
 
 Blooming at BeUane, iji winter to fide ; 
 When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on tht 
 
 mountain, 
 TiKi more shall Clan- Alpine exult in her shade. 
 Moored in the rifted rock, 
 Proof to the tempest's shock.
 
 Canto IL THE ISLAND. 45 
 
 Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 
 
 Menteith and Breadalbane, then, 
 
 Echo his praise agen, 
 " Roderigh Vich Alpme dhu, ho ! ieroc 1" 
 
 XX. 
 
 Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in glen Fruin, 
 
 And Banochar's groans to our slogan replied ; 
 Glen Ross and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in rum. 
 And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her 
 side. 
 Widow and Saxon maid 
 Long shall lament our raid, 
 f hink of Clan-Alpine with fear and with wo ; 
 Lennox and Leven-glen 
 Shake when they hear agen, 
 ' Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho I ieroe I" 
 
 Ptow vassals, row, for the pride of the highlan.lsl 
 
 Stretch to your oars, for the ever- green pine ? 
 O ! that the rose-bud that graces yon island?., 
 Were wreathed in a garland around him io 
 twine I 
 O that some seedling gem, 
 Worthy such noble stem. 
 Honoured and blessed in their shadow miglit grtt-^ I 
 Loud should Clan-Alpine then 
 Ring from her deepmost glen, 
 ** Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho 1 ieroe 1" 
 
 XXL 
 
 With all her joyful female band 
 Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. 
 Loose on the breeze their tresses flew, 
 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 srt, 
 The darling passion of his heart.
 
 46 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto I] 
 
 TIio 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 f " 
 
 Reluctantly and slow, the maid 
 
 The unwelcome summoning obeyed, 
 
 And, when a distant bugle rung. 
 
 In the mid-path aside she sprung : — 
 
 •' List, A.llan-bane ! From mainland cast, 
 
 I hear my father's signal blast. 
 
 Be ours,'' she cried, '' tlie skifi to guide. 
 
 And wafl him from the mountain side.'' 
 
 Then, like a sunbeam, swift and bright. 
 
 She darted to her shallop light, 
 
 And, eagerly while Roderick scanned. 
 
 For her dear form, his mother's baud, 
 
 The islet far behind her lay. 
 
 And she had landed in the bay. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Some feelings are to mortals given, 
 
 With less of earth in them than heaven , 
 
 And if there be a human teai 
 
 From passion's dross refined and cli-ar, 
 
 A tear so limpid and so meek. 
 
 It would not stain an aiigel's cheek, 
 
 'Tis that which pious fatliers shed 
 
 Upon a duteous daughter's head I 
 
 And as the Douglas to his breast 
 
 His darling Ellen closely pressed, 
 
 Such holy drops lier tresses steep'd. 
 
 Though 'twas a hero's eye that wccp'd. 
 
 Nor while on Ellen's faltering tongue 
 
 Her filial welcomes crowded hung. 
 
 Marked she, that fear (aft'ection's proof,) 
 
 Still hoW a graceful youth aloof; 
 
 No ! not till Douglas named his name, 
 
 Altliough the youth was Malcolm Griemo
 
 Canto II. THE ISLAND. 47 
 
 xxni. 
 
 Allan, with wistful look the while, 
 
 ,'.'urked Roderick landing on the isle; 
 
 i iirf master piteously he eyed, 
 
 Tlien gazed upon the chieftain's pride. 
 
 Then dashed, with hasty hand, awa}^, 
 
 i^'rom his dimmed eye the gathering cpray ; 
 
 And Douglas, as his hand he laid 
 
 On jMalcolm's shoulder, kindly said, 
 
 '• Canst thou, young friend, no meaning spy 
 
 fn my poor follower's glistening eye ? 
 
 ril tell thee : — he recalls the day, 
 
 \V'hen in my praise he led the lay 
 
 O'er the arched gate of Bothweli proud. 
 
 While many a minstrel answered loud. 
 
 When Percy's Norman pennon, won 
 
 in bloody field, before me shone. 
 
 And twice ten knights, the least a nam.e 
 
 As mighty as yon chief may claim, 
 
 Gracing my pomp, behind me came. 
 
 Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 
 
 Was I of all that marshal crowd. 
 
 Though the waned crescent owned my might. 
 
 And in my train trooped lord and knight. 
 
 Though Blantyre hymned her holiest lays, 
 
 And Botluvelfs bards flung back my praise. 
 
 As when this old man's silent tear. 
 
 And this poor maid's affection dear, 
 
 A welcome give more kind and true, 
 
 Than aught my better fortunes knew. 
 
 Forgive, my friend, a father's boast ; 
 
 O . it outbeggars all I lost 1" 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Delightful praise ! — like summer rose, 
 That brighter in the dew-drop glows. 
 The bashful maiden's cheek appeared, 
 For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. 
 The flush of shame-faced joy to hide, 
 The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide ;
 
 48 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 11 
 
 The loved caresses of the maid 
 The dogs with crouch and whimper paid ; 
 And, at her whistle, on herliand 
 The falcon took his favourite stand, 
 Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye, 
 Nor, thougli unhooded, sought to fly. 
 And trust, wliile in such guise she stood, 
 Like fabled Goddess of the Wood, 
 That if a father's partial tliought 
 O'erweiglied her worth and beaut}' aught 
 Well might the lover's judgment fail, 
 To balance with a juster scale ; 
 For with each secret glance he stoic, 
 The fond enthusiast sent his soul. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Of stature fair, and slender frame, 
 
 But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme. 
 
 The belted plaid and tartan iiosc 
 
 Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ; 
 
 His flaxen hair, of sunny hue. 
 
 Curled closely round l;is bonnet blue ; 
 
 Trained to the chase, his eagle eye 
 
 The ptarmigan in snow couid spy ; 
 
 Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath, 
 
 He knew, tlirough Lennox and Menteith; 
 
 Vain was the bound of dark-brown doc. 
 
 When Malcolm bent his sounding bow, 
 
 And scarce that doe. though wmged with fear 
 
 Outstripped in speed the mountaineer; 
 
 Right 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 ; 
 
 A blither heart, till Ellen came. 
 
 Did never love nor sorrow tame ; 
 
 It danced as lio-htsome in his breast. 
 
 As played the feather on his crest. 
 
 Vet friends, who nearest knew the youth. 
 
 His s-j'jiT) of wronor, his zeal for trutlj.
 
 Canto II. THE ISLAND. 49 
 
 And bards, who saw his features bold. 
 When kindled by the tales of old, 
 Said, were that youth to manhood grown, 
 Not lon^ should Roderick Dhu's renown 
 Be foremost voiced by mountain fame. 
 But quail to that of Malcolm Gr;3Dme. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Now back they wend their watery way, 
 And, " O my sire 1" did Ellen say, 
 " Why urge thy chace so far astray? 
 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 reft 
 W^ere all of Douglas I have lefl. ^ 
 I met young Malcolm as I strayed 
 Far eastward m Glenfinlas' shade 
 Nor strayed I safe ; for, all around. 
 Hunters and horsemen scoured the grourid 
 This youth, though still a royal v/aru. 
 Risked life and land to be my guard, 
 And through the passes of the wood 
 Guided my steps, not unpursued ; 
 And Roderick shall his welcome make, 
 Despite old spleen, for Douglas' sake. 
 Then nmst he seek Strath Endrick glen. 
 Nor peril aught for mo agen."— 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Sir RodericK, wno to meet them came, 
 Reddened at sight of Malcolm Grteme, 
 Yet, nor in action, word, or eye. 
 Failed aught in hospitality. 
 In talk and spoitthey whiled away 
 The morning of that summer day ; 
 But at high noon a courier light 
 Held secret parley with the knight.
 
 50 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto EL 
 
 Whose moody aspect soon declared. 
 That evil were the nevv's Ive heard. 
 Deep thought seemed toiling in his head ; 
 Yet was the evening banquet made, 
 E'er he assembled round lhe«flame, 
 Flis mother, Douglas, and the Grcsme, 
 And Ellen too ; then cast around 
 His eyes, then fixed them on tiie ground. 
 As studying phrase that might avail 
 Best to convey unpleasant talc. 
 Long with his dagger's hilt he played, 
 Then raised his haughty brow, and said : 
 
 XXVIIL 
 
 " Short be my speech ; — nor time aflbrds. 
 
 Nor my plain temper, glozing words. 
 
 Kinsman and father, if such name 
 
 Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's claim, 
 
 Mine honoured mother, Ellen, — why. 
 
 My cousin, turn away thine eye.'* 
 
 .\nd Grromc, in whom I hope to know 
 
 Pull soon a noble friend or foe, 
 
 tVhen age shall give thee thy command. 
 
 And leading in tiiy native land, — 
 
 List all I — The king's vindictive pride 
 
 IJoasts to have tamed the Border-side, 
 
 Where chiet?, with hound and hawk who camfe 
 
 To share their monarch's sylvan game. 
 
 Themselves in bloody toils were snared, 
 
 And when the banquet they prepared, 
 
 And wide their loyal portals flung, 
 
 O'er tlieir own gateway struggling hung. 
 
 Loud cries their blood from ^leggat's mead 
 
 From Y'arrow braes, and banks of Tweed, 
 
 Where the lone streams of Ettricke glide. 
 
 And from the silver Teviot's side ; 
 
 Tlie dales, where martial clans did ride. 
 
 Are now one sheep-v.alk waste and wide. 
 
 This tyrant of the Scottish throne, 
 
 So faithless, and so ruthless grown,
 
 Canto n. THE ISLAND. 
 
 Now hither comes ; his end the same, 
 
 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. 
 
 This by espial sure I know : 
 
 Your counsel in the strait I show."" — 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Ellen and Margaret fearfully 
 
 Sought comfort in each other s eye, 
 
 Then turned their ghastly look, each one. 
 
 This to her sire, that to her son. 
 
 The hasty colour went and came 
 
 .n the bold cheek of Malcolm Graeme ; 
 
 But from his glance, it well appeared, 
 
 'Twas but for Ellen that he feared ; 
 
 While sorrowful, but undismayed, 
 
 The Douglas thus his counsel said : 
 
 ' Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar. 
 
 It may but thunder and pass o'er; 
 
 Nor will I Jiere remain an hour, • 
 
 To draw the lightning on thy bower ; 
 
 For well thou know'st, at this gray head 
 
 The royal bolt v/ere fiercest spcd- 
 
 For thee, who, at thy King's command. 
 
 Canst aid him with a gallant band, 
 
 Submission, homage, humbled pride. 
 
 Shall turn the monarch's wrath aside. 
 
 Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, 
 
 Ellen and 1, will seek, apart. 
 
 The refuge of some forest cell ; 
 
 There, like the hunted quarry, dwell. 
 
 Till, on the mountain and the moor, 
 
 The stern pursuit be passed and o'er." — 
 
 XXX. 
 
 ** No, by mine honour," Roderick said, 
 " So hein me heaven, and my good blade !
 
 52 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto II 
 
 No, never I Blasted he yon pine, 
 My father's ancient crest, and mine, 
 If fiom its shade in dano:er part 
 The lineag-e of the Bleeding Heart I 
 Hear my blunt speech : grant mo this maid 
 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 us to each western chief. 
 When the loud pipes my bridal tell, 
 The Links of Forth shall hear the knell. 
 The guard shall start in Stirling's porch; 
 And when I light the nuptial torch, 
 A thousand villages in flames, 
 Shall scare the slumber of King James I 
 — Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away. 
 And, mother, cease these signs, 1 pray ; 
 I meant not all my heat might say. 
 Small need of inroad, or of fight, 
 VVJicn the sage Douglas may unite 
 Each mountam clan in friendly band, 
 To giftrd the passes of their land. 
 Till tho foiled King, from pathless glen, 
 Shall bootless turn him home agon." — 
 
 XXXL 
 
 There are who have, at midnight hour, 
 In slumber scaled a dizzy tower, 
 And, on the verge that beetled o'er 
 The ocean-tide's incessant roar, 
 Dreamed calmly out thcM* dangerous dream 
 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. 
 And thought the battled fence so fraiL 
 It waved like cobweb in the gale ;
 
 Canto n. THE ISLAND. 53 
 
 Amid his senses' giddy wheel, 
 
 Did he not desperate impulse feel, 
 
 Headlong to plunge himself below. 
 
 And meet the worst his fears foreshow ? — 
 
 Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound. 
 
 As sudden ruui yawned around. 
 
 By crossing terrors wildly tossed. 
 
 Still for the Douglas fearing most, 
 
 Could scarce the desperate thought withstand. 
 
 To buy his safety with her hand. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy 
 
 In Ellen's quivering lip and ej'^e, 
 
 And eager rose to speak — but e'er 
 
 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 throl>bing blood, 
 
 Then ebbing back, with sudden sway. 
 
 Left its domain as wan as clay. 
 
 " Roderick, enough ! enougli !" he cried, 
 
 "My daughter cannot be thy bride ; 
 
 Not that the blush to wooer dear. 
 
 Nor paleness that of maiden fear. 
 
 It may not be — forgive her, chief. 
 
 Nor hazard aught for our relief. 
 
 Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er 
 
 Will level a rebellious spear; 
 
 'Twas I that taught his youthful hand 
 
 To rein a steed and wield a brand. 
 
 I see him yet, the princely boy I 
 
 Not Ellen more my pride and joy; 
 
 I love him still, despite my wrongs. 
 
 By hasty wrath, and slanderous tongues. 
 
 O seek the grace you well may find. 
 
 Without a cause to mine combined." —
 
 54 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto U. 
 
 XXXIIL 
 
 Twice through the liall the Chieftain strode ; 
 
 The waving of his tartans broad, 
 And darkened brow, where wounded pnc'f 
 With ire and disappointment vied. 
 Seemed, by the torch's gloomy hght, 
 Like the ill Demon of the night, 
 Stooping liis pinions' shadowy sway 
 Upon the nighted pilgrim's way : 
 But, unrequited love ! thy dart 
 Plunged deepest its envenomed smart ; 
 And Roderick, with thine anguish stung, 
 At length the hand of Douglas wrung, 
 Wlrile eyes, that mocked at tears before. 
 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, 
 Convulsive heaved its checkered shroud ; 
 While evciy sob — so mute were all— 
 W^as heard distinctly through the hall. 
 The son's despair, the mother's look, 
 111 might the gentle Ellen brook ; 
 She rose, and to her side tiiere came, 
 To aid lier parting steps, the Gramme. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Then Roderick from the Douglas broke — 
 
 As flashes flame through sable smoke, 
 
 Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low. 
 
 To one broad blaze of ruddy glow, 
 
 So the deep anguish of despair 
 
 Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air — 
 
 With stalwart grasp liis hand lie laid 
 
 On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : 
 
 '' Back, beardless boy !" he sternly said, 
 
 " Rack, mkiion 1 hold'sl thou thus at nouglv 
 
 The lesson I so lately taught.^ 
 
 This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, 
 
 Thank thou for punishment delayed '
 
 Canto n. THE ISLAND 55 
 
 Eager as greyliound on his game, 
 
 Fiercely with Roderick grappled Graeme 
 
 ■' Perish my name, if aught afford 
 
 Its chieftain's safety, save his sword !" 
 
 Thus as they strove, their desperate hand 
 
 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 hold the first who strikes my foe. — 
 
 Madmen, forbear your frantic jar ! 
 
 What! is the Douglas fallen so far, 
 
 His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil 
 
 Of such dishonourable broil !" — 
 
 Sullen and slowly, they unclasp, 
 
 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, 
 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 
 Such cheek should feel the midnight air ! 
 Then mayest thou to .Tames Stuart tell, 
 Roderick will keep the lake and fell, 
 N'or lackey, with his free-born clan. 
 The pageant pomp of earthly man. 
 More would he of Clan-Alpine know. 
 Thou canst our strength and passes show. — 
 Malise , what ho 1" — his hench-man came ; 
 " Give our safe conduct to the Graime." 
 Young Malcolm answered, calm and bold. 
 "■ Fear nothing for thy favourite hold. 
 The spot, an angel deigned to grace, 
 Is blessed, though robbers haunt the places
 
 55 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto [1. 
 
 Thy churlisli courtesy for those 
 Reserve, who fear to be tliy foes. 
 As safe to me the mountain way 
 At midnight as in blaze of day, 
 Though, with his boldest at liis back. 
 Even Roderick Dhu beset the track.— 
 Brave Douglas, — lovely Ellen, — Nay. 
 Nought here of parting will 1 say. 
 Earth does not hold a lonesome glen. 
 So secret, but we meet agen. — 
 Chieftam I we too shall find an hour," 
 He said, and 'eft the sylvan bower. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Old Allan followed to the strand, 
 
 (Such was the Douglas's command,) 
 
 And anxious told, how, on the morn. 
 
 The stern Sir Roderick deep i:ad sworn. 
 
 The Fiery Cross shouid i-irclt^ u er 
 
 Dale, glen, and valley, down, ai;d uvior 
 
 xMuch wore the peril to '.lio (Irn.Mne, 
 
 From tljoso who to the signal canni ; 
 
 Far up the lake 'twere safest iaiul 
 
 Himself would row him to the strand. 
 
 He gave his counsel to the wind, 
 
 While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind. 
 
 Round dirk and pouch and broad-sword rollc^i 
 
 His ample plaid in tightened fold. 
 
 And stripped his limbs to such array, 
 
 As best might suit the watery way. 
 
 xxxvn. 
 
 Then spoke abrupt ; " Farewell to thee. 
 Pattern of old fidelity !" 
 The minstrers hand he kindly pressed, — 
 •" O could I point a place of rest I 
 My sovereign holds in ward my land. 
 My uncle leads my vassal band ; 
 To tame his foes, his friends to aid. 
 Poor i\Ialcolm has but heart and blade.
 
 Canto 11. THE ISLAND. ^ 
 
 Yet, if there be one faithful Greeme, 
 Who loves the chieftain of his name, 
 Not long shall honoured Douglas dwell. 
 Like hunted stag, in mountain cell ; 
 Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare, — 
 I may not give the rest to air 1 — 
 Tell Roderick Dh.u, 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, 
 And stoutly steered him from the shorf 
 And Allan strained his anxious eye, 
 Far mid tlie lake his form to spy, 
 Dakening across each puny wave, 
 To which the moon her silver gave. 
 Fast as the cormorant could skim. 
 The swimmer plied each active limb : 
 Then, landing ki the moonlight dell, 
 Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 
 The minstrel heard the far halloo. 
 And joyful from the shore Vv'ithdrew. 
 
 END OF CANTO SECOWDi
 
 THE 
 
 LAPY OF THE i..4M:il« 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 TJIfi GA'l'HEKrNG. 
 
 TIME rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yo. 
 
 Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 
 And told our marvelling boyhood legends store. 
 
 Of their strange ventures liappM by land or sea 
 How they are blotted from the things that be 1 
 
 How few, all weak and withered of their force 
 Wait, on the verge of dark eternity, 
 
 Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse. 
 To sv/eep them from our sight ! Time rolls his- 
 
 ceaseless course. 
 Vet live there still who can rem.ember well. 
 
 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 
 What time aloft their kindred banner Hew. 
 
 While clamorous v/ar-pipes yelled the gathering 
 sound, 
 And wliile the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor 
 round 
 
 n. 
 
 The summer dawn's reflected hue 
 
 To purple changed Loch Katrine blue ;
 
 OO LADY OF THE LAKE. Caulo III. 
 
 I'^ildly and soft the western breeze ;. 
 
 Tust kissed the lake, just stirred tiie trees. 
 And tlie pleased lake, like maiden coy, 
 rremb'.3d,but dimpled not for joy : 
 Tlic mountain shadows on her breast 
 ^Vere neither broken nor at rest ; 
 In bright uncertainty thoy lie, 
 k. ike future joys to fancy's eye. 
 The water lily to the liirht 
 Her chalice oped of silver bright; 
 The doe awoke, and to the lawn, 
 Ik^gcnimed with dew-drops, led her fiw 
 The gray mist left the mountain side, 
 Tii*} torrent showed its glistening priJu > 
 Invisible in flecked sky, 
 The lark sent down iicr revelry ; 
 The black-bird and the speckled thrus)« 
 Good-morro-^' ^a -e from brake and buK 
 In answer cooed tho cushat dove, 
 Her notes of peo^t;, u.n(i re^t, and lov &. 
 
 Xo thought of peace, ro Ihcight of rest 
 Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breaai 
 Willi sheathed broadsword m his huiiu, 
 Abrupt he paced the islet strand. 
 And eyed the rising sun, aim laid 
 His hand on liis impatient blade. 
 Beneath a rock, his vassal's care 
 Was prompt the ritual to prepare, 
 With deep and dcathful meaning traujb 
 For such antiquity had taught 
 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 throw 
 As, from the cUlTs of Benvenue, 
 She spread her dark sails on the wind, 
 And, high in middle hea\en reclmod.
 
 Canto IIL THE GATHERING. 61 
 
 With her dark shadow on the lake, 
 Silenced tlie warblers of tlie brake. 
 
 IV. 
 
 A heap of withered boughs were piled, 
 
 or juniper and row.an wild, 
 
 iNlingled with shivers from the oak 
 
 Rent by tiie lightning's recent stroke. 
 
 Brian, the hermit, by it stood, 
 
 Bare-footed, 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 penance bore. 
 
 That Monk, of savage form and face. 
 
 The impending danger of his race 
 
 Had drawn from deepest solitude, 
 
 Far in Benlnrrow's bosom rude. 
 
 Not his the mien of Christian priest, 
 
 But druids, 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 
 
 The hallowed creed gave only worse 
 
 And deadlier emphasis of curse. 
 
 No peasant sought that hermit's prayer, 
 
 His cave the pilgrim shunned with care ; 
 
 The eager liuntsman knew his bound, 
 
 And in mid chase called off his hound ♦ 
 
 Or if, in lonely gien 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, 
 Where scattered lay the bones of men,
 
 62 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canio III 
 
 In some forgotten battle slain, 
 
 And bleached by drifting wind and rain. 
 
 It might have tamed a warrior's heart, 
 
 To view such mockery of his art : 
 
 The knot-grass fettered there the hand, 
 
 Which once could burst an iron band; 
 
 Beneath the broad and ample bone, 
 
 That bucklered heart to lear unknown, 
 
 A feeble and a timorous guest, 
 
 The field-fare framed her lowly nest ; 
 
 There the slow blind-worm left his slime 
 
 On the fleet limbs that mocked at lime; 
 
 And there, too, lay the leader's skull. 
 
 Still wreathed withchaplet flushed and full 
 
 For heath-bell, with her purple bloom. 
 
 Supplied the bonnet and the plume. 
 
 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 snood untied, 
 
 Yet ne'er again to braid her hair 
 
 The virgin snood did Alice v.ear; 
 
 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. 
 
 But locked her secret in her breast.. 
 
 And died in travail, unconfessed. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Alone, among his young compeers, 
 \\'as Brian from his infant years ; 
 A moody and heart-broken boy. 
 Estranged from sympathy and joy. 
 Bearing each taunt with careless longm 
 On his mysterious lineage flung. 
 Whole nights he spent by moonlight palt, 
 To wood and stream his hap to wail. 
 Till, frantic, he as truth received 
 What of his birth the crowd believed,
 
 Canto m. THE GATHERING. 63 
 
 And sought, in mist and meteor fire, 
 
 To meet and know his Phantom Sire ! 
 
 In vain, to sooth his wayward fate, 
 
 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. 
 
 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 overstrung, 
 
 And heart with mystic horrors wrung. 
 
 Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, 
 
 And hid him from the haunts of men. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The desert gave him visions wild. 
 Such as might suit the Spectre's child . 
 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 ; 
 Tiie mountain mist took form and limb. 
 Of noontide hag, or gobhn 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. 
 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 
 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, 
 Of charging steeds careering fast
 
 G4 LADY OF THi: LAKE. Caiito IIL 
 
 Along Benharrow's shingly side, 
 
 Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride : 
 
 The thunder, too, had split tlie pine, — 
 
 All augur'd ill to Alpine's line. 
 
 He girt his loins, and came to show 
 
 The signals of impending wo. 
 
 And ROW stood prompt to bless or ban, 
 
 \s bade the Chieftain of his clan. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 'Twas all prepared ; — and from the rock, 
 A goat, the patriarch of the flock, 
 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. 
 Till darkness glazed his eye-balls dim. 
 Tlie grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, 
 A slender crosslet framed with care, 
 A cubit's length in measure due ; 
 The shaft and limb were rods of yew. 
 Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave 
 Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave, 
 And, answering Lomond's breezes deep. 
 Sooth many a chieftain's endless sleep. 
 The Cross, thus formed, lie held on liiglj. 
 With wasted hand and hagard eye, 
 And strange and mingled feelings woke. 
 While his anathema he spoke. 
 
 IX. 
 
 •' Wo to the clansman, who shall view 
 Tliis symbol of sepulchral yew. 
 Forgetful that its branches grev/ 
 Where weep the heavens their holiest dow 
 
 On Alpine's dwelling low I 
 Deserter of his chieftain's trust. 
 He ne'er shall mingle with their dust.
 
 Canto in. THE GATHERING. fi5 
 
 But fioni his sires and kindred thrust, 
 Each clansman's execration just 
 
 Shall doom him wrath and wo.'" 
 He paused ; — the word the vassals took. 
 With forward step and fiery look, 
 On high their naked brands they shook. 
 Their clattering targets wildly strook ; 
 
 And first, in murmur low, 
 Then, like the billow in its course, 
 That fiir to seaward finds his source. 
 And flings to shore his mustered fierce, 
 Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarso, 
 
 " Wo to the traitor, wo 1'' 
 Ben-an"s gray scalp the accents knew, 
 Tiie joyous wolf from covert drew, 
 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. 
 The while he scathed the Cross with flamo 
 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 
 Its kindled points, he spoke aloud : — 
 " Wo to the wretch, who fails to rear 
 At this dread sign the ready spear 1 
 For, as the llames thi^ symbol sear, 
 His homo, the refuge of his fear, 
 
 A kindred fate shall know ; 
 Far o'er its roof the volumed flame 
 Clan- Alpine's vengeance shall proclainij 
 While maids and matrons on his name 
 Shall call down wretcliedness and shame. 
 
 And infamy and wo."' — 
 
 Then rose the cry of females, shrill 
 
 As goss-hawks whistle on the hill, 
 
 E
 
 66 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 111 
 
 Denouncing misery and ill, 
 
 Mingled with cliiluliood's babbling trill 
 
 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, 
 
 We doom to want and wo I'' 
 A sharp and shrieking echo gave, 
 Goir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave I 
 And the irray pass whcns birches wave, 
 
 On Beala-nam-bo. 
 
 XL 
 
 Then deeper paused the priest anew. 
 And hard his labouring breath he drew. 
 While, with set teeth, and clenched hand. 
 And eyes tliat glowed like fiery brand. 
 He meditated curse more dread. 
 And deadlier, on the clansman's head. 
 Who, summoned to his Chieftain's nid. 
 The signal saw and disobeyed. 
 The crosslefs points of sparkHng wood. 
 He quenched among the bubbling blood. 
 And, as again the sign he reared, 
 Hollow ajid hoarse his voice was heard : 
 '•'■ When flits this Cross from man to man. 
 Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan, 
 Burst he the ear that fails to heed'. 
 Palsied the foot that shuns to speed 1 
 May ravens tear the careless eyes. 
 Wolves make the coward heart their prize ! 
 As sinks that blood-stream in the earth. 
 So may his heart's-blood drench his heartlil 
 As dies in hissing gore the spark. 
 Quench thou his light, Destruction dark! 
 And be the grace to him denied. 
 Brought by tliis sign to all beside '." — 
 He ceased : no echo gave agen 
 Tlie murmur of the deep Amen.
 
 Canto III. THE GATHERING. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then Roderick, with impatient look. 
 From Brian's hand the symbol took : 
 "Speed, Malise, speed 1" he said, and gave 
 The crosslet to his liench-man brave. 
 " The muster-place be Lanric mead — 
 Instant the time — speed, Malise, speed !" 
 Like heath-bird, when the hawks pursue, 
 A barge across Loch- Katrine flew ; 
 High stood the hench-man on the prow. 
 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 : 
 And from the silver beach's side 
 Still was the prow three tathom wide, 
 When lightly bounded to the land. 
 The messenger of blood and brand. 
 
 XIIL 
 
 Speed, Malise, speed ! the dun deer's hide 
 On fleeter foot was never tied. 
 Speed, Malise, speed 1 such cause of haste 
 Thine active sinews never braced. 
 Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast, 
 Burst down like torrent from its crest; 
 With short and springing footstep pass 
 The trembling bog and false morass ; 
 Across the brook like roe-buck bound. 
 And thread the break like questing hound ; 
 The crag is high, the scaur is deep. 
 Yet shrink not from the desperate leap ; 
 Parched are t!iy burning lips and brcv/, 
 Yet by the fountain pause not now ^ 
 Herald of battle, fate, and fear. 
 Stretch onward in thy fleet career I 
 The wounded hind thou track'st not now, 
 Pursuest not maid through greenwood houga,
 
 68 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto III 
 
 Nor pliost thou now thy flying pace 
 With rivals in the mountain race ; 
 {Jul clanger, death and warrior deed, 
 Are Hi thy course — Speed, Mahsc, speed ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Fast as tlie fatal symbol flies, 
 Jii arms tlio huts and hamlets rise ; 
 From winding glen, from upland brown 
 They poured each hardy tenant down. 
 Nor slacked the messenger his pace ; 
 He showed tlie sign, he named the place, 
 And, pressing forward like the wind, 
 Left clamour and surprise behind. 
 The fisherman forsook the strand, 
 T.'ie swarthy smith took dirk and brand; 
 With changed clieer, the mower blithe 
 Left in the half-cut swathe his scythe ; 
 The herds without a keeper strayed, 
 The plough was in mid-furrow stayed, 
 TJie falc'ner tossed his hawk away 
 The hunter left the stag at bay ; 
 Prompt at the signal of alarms, 
 F]ach son of Alpine rushed to arms; 
 So swept the tumult and affray 
 Along the margin of Achray. 
 Alas, thou lovely lake 1 that e'er 
 Thy banks should echo sounds of fear . 
 The rocks, tlie bosky thickets, sleep 
 So stilly on thy bosom deep. 
 The lark's blithe carol from the cloud, 
 ^eems for the scene too gayly loud. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Speed, Malise, speed I the lake is past, 
 Duncraggan's huts appear at last. 
 And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, 
 Half hidden in the copse so green ; 
 There may'st thou rest, thy labour done, 
 Their lord shall speed the signal on. —
 
 Canto III. THE GATHERING. CO 
 
 As stoops the hawk upon his prey. 
 The hench-man shot him down the way 
 What woful accents load tlie gale ? 
 Tlie funeral yell, the female wail 1- - 
 A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, 
 A valiant warrior fights no more. 
 Who, in the battle or the chase, 
 At Roderick's side shall fill his place '- 
 Within the hall, where torches' ray 
 Supply the excluded beams of day, 
 Lies Duncan on his lowly bier, 
 And o'er him streams his widow's tear. 
 His stripling son stands mournful by, 
 His youngest weeps, but knows not why ' 
 The village maids and matrons round 
 The dismal coronach* resound. 
 
 XVI. 
 CORONACH. 
 
 He is gone on the mountain, 
 
 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, 
 But to us comes no cheering, 
 
 To Duncan no morrow I 
 
 The hand of the reaper 
 
 Takes the ears that are hoary, 
 But the voice of the weeper 
 
 Wails manhood in glory ; 
 The autumn v/inds rushing 
 
 Waft the leaves that are searest, 
 But our flower was in flushing. 
 
 When blighting was nearest. 
 
 *FuiieraI Song. See Nolo,
 
 70 LADY OF THE LAKE Canto III, 
 
 Fleet foot on the correi,* 
 
 Sage counsel encumber, 
 Red hand in the foray, 
 
 How sound is thy slumber ! 
 Like the dew on the mountain. 
 
 Like the foam on the river, 
 Like the bubble on the fountain, 
 
 Thou art gone, and for ever I 
 
 xvn. 
 
 See Stumah,t who, the bier beside, 
 His master's corpse with wonder eyed, 
 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. 
 'Tis not a mourner's muffled tread. 
 Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead. 
 But headlong haste or deadly fear, 
 L^rge the precipitate career. 
 All stand aghast : — unheeding all, 
 The hench-man bursts into the hall ; 
 Before the dead man's bier he stood. 
 Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood : 
 " The muster-place be Lanric mead ; 
 Speed forth the signal I clansmen, speed !" 
 
 xvnL 
 
 Angus, the heir of Duncan's line, 
 Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. 
 In haste the stripling to his side 
 His father's dirk and broad-sword tied 
 But when he saw his mother's eye 
 Watch him in speechless agony, 
 Back to her opened arms he flew, 
 Pressed on her lips a fond adieu — 
 
 * Or corri. The hollow side of the hill, where psnw 
 jsually lie*. 
 t "Fiiitlijul, The name of h dop.
 
 CamoIII. THE GArHEIllNG. 
 
 " Alas I" she sobbed. — " and yet be gone, 
 
 And speed thee forth, Uke Duncan's son 1'" 
 
 One look he cast upon the bier, 
 
 Dashed from his eye tlie gathering tear, 
 
 Breatlied deep, to clear his labouring breast, 
 
 And toss\l aloft, his bonnet crest. 
 
 Then, like the high-bred colt when freed 
 
 First he essays his fire and speed. 
 
 He vanished, and o'er rnoor and moss 
 
 Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. 
 
 Susperded was the widow's tear, 
 
 While yet his footsteps she could hear ; 
 
 And when she marked the hench-man's eye 
 
 Wet with unwonted sympathy, 
 
 '• Kinsman,'- slie said, '' his race is run, 
 
 That should have sped thine errand on ; 
 
 The oak has fallen, — the saplmg bough 
 
 Is all Duncraggan's shelter now. 
 
 Yet trust 1 v/eli, 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 1 
 
 Let babes and women wail the dead." 
 
 Then weapon clang, and martial call. 
 
 Resounded through the funeral hali, 
 
 Wliile from the walls the attendant band 
 
 Snatched sword and targe, with hurried hand 
 
 And short and flitting energy 
 
 Glanced from Uie niuurner's sunken eye. 
 
 As if the sounas t^- 'varrior dear 
 
 Might rouse her Duncan from his bier; 
 
 Bat faded soon that borrowed force ; 
 
 Grief claimed his right, and tears their course 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Benledi saw Uae Cross of Fire, 
 It glanced like hghtning up Strath- Ire. 
 O'er dale and hill the summons flew. 
 Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew ;
 
 72 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IIL 
 
 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 wooden knoll, 
 
 That graced the sable strath with green, 
 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 Fie stumbled twice — the foam splashed high 
 
 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, 
 
 Until the opposmg bank he gained. 
 
 And up the chapel pathway strained. 
 
 XX. 
 
 A blithsome rout, that morning tide. 
 Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride. 
 Her troth Tombea's Mary gave 
 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 ; 
 And plaided youth, with jest and jeer, 
 Which snooded maiden would not hear ; 
 And children, that, unwitting v\'hy,^ 
 Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry;'" 
 And minstrels, that in measures vied 
 Before the young and bonny bride, 
 Whose downcast eve and cheek disclose 
 The tear and blush of morning rose.
 
 Canto m. THE GATHERING. 
 
 With virgin step, and bashful hand, 
 She held the kerchief's snowy band ; 
 The g-allant bridegroom, by her side, 
 Beheld liis prize with victor's pride, 
 And the glad mother in her car 
 Was closely whispering word of cheer 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Who meets them at the cliurchj^ard gate 
 
 The messenger of fear and fate 1 
 
 Haste in his hurried accent lies, 
 
 And grief is swimming in his eyes. 
 
 All dripping from the recent flood, 
 
 Panting and travel-soiled he stood, 
 
 The tlital sign of fire and sword 
 
 Held forth, and spoke the appointed word t 
 
 ■' The mustering place is lianric mead. 
 
 Speed forth the signal 1 Norman, speed !"— 
 
 And must hfi^ihange so soon the handj_ 
 
 Just linked to his by holy band. 
 
 For the fell Cross of blood and brand ? 
 
 And must the day, so bhthe that rose, 
 
 And promised rapture in the close, 
 
 Before its setting hour, divide 
 
 The bridegroom from the plighted bride r 
 
 O fatal doom ! — it must ! it must ! 
 
 Clan Alpine's cause, her chieftain's trust. 
 
 Her summons dread brooks no delay ; 
 
 Stretch to the race — away ! away f 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Vet slow he laid his plaid aside, 
 
 And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride, 
 
 Until he saw the starting tear 
 
 Speak wo he mignt not stop to cheer ; 
 
 Then trusting not a second look, 
 
 In haste he sped him up the brook, 
 
 Nor backward glanced till on the heath 
 
 Wnprr Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teitiv»-~
 
 74 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto HI 
 
 What in the racer's bosom stirre,d ? — 
 The sickening pang" of hope deierred, 
 An-d 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, 
 Ere yet they rush upon the spears ; 
 And zeal for clan and chieflpin burnrig, 
 And hope, from well-fought field returning. 
 With war's red honours on liis crest, 
 I'o clasp his Mary to his breast. 
 Stung by such tiioughts, o'er bank and brae. 
 I.,ike 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 
 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. 
 My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid I 
 
 It will Bot waken nie, Mary I 
 
 1 may not, dare not, fancy now 
 
 The grief that clouds thy lovely brow 
 
 I dare not think upon thy vow. 
 
 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 bov/. 
 
 His foot like arrow free, Mary. 
 
 /f.-rtV'-w— Fern.
 
 (} 
 
 Canto m. THE GATHERLNG. 
 
 A time will come with feeling fraught I 
 For, if I fall in battle fought, 
 Thy hapless lover's dying thought 
 
 Siiall be a thought on thee, Mary 
 And if returned from conquered foes, 
 How blithely will the evening close, 
 How sweet the linnet sing repose. 
 
 To my young bride and me, Mary '. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 N^ot faster o'er thy heathery braes, 
 Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze, 
 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, 
 As o'er thy heaths the voice of war. 
 The signal roused to martial coU 
 The sullen margin of Loch-Voil, 
 Waked still Loch-Doine, and to the source 
 Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course ; 
 Thence southward turned its rapid road 
 Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad. 
 Till rase in arms each man might claim 
 A portion in Clan- Alpine's name ; 
 From the sfray sire, whose trembling hand 
 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, 
 That mot as torrents from the height 
 In Highland date their streams unite, 
 Still gathering, as they pour along, 
 A voice more loud, a tide more strong, 
 Till at the rendezvous they stood 
 By hundreds, prompt for blows and blood; 
 Each trained to arms since life began, 
 Owing no tie but to his clan.
 
 76 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto ID. 
 
 No oath, but by his chieftain's hand, 
 No law, but Roderick Dhu's command. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 That summer morn had Roderick Dhu 
 Surveyed the skirts of Benvenue, 
 And sent his scouts o'er hill and heath, 
 To view the frontiers of Menteith. 
 All backward came with news of truce ; 
 Still lay each martial Gramme and Bruce, 
 [n Rednock courts no horsemen wait. 
 No banner waved on Cardross gate 
 On Duchray's towers no beacon shone, 
 Nor scared the herons from Loch-Con ; 
 All seemed at peace. — Now, wot ye why 
 The Chieftain, with such anxious eye. 
 Ere to the muster he repair. 
 This western frontier scann'd 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 withdrew, 
 And in a deep sequestered dell 
 Had sought a low and lonely cell. 
 By many a bard, in Celtic tongue, 
 Has Coir-nan-Uriskin been sung ; 
 A softer name the Saxons gave, 
 And called the grot the Gobhn-cave. 
 
 cr- XXVI. 
 
 It was a wild and strange retreat, 
 As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. 
 The dell, upon the mountain's crest. 
 Yawned like a srash on warrior's breast ; 
 Its trench had stayed full many a rock, 
 Flurled by primeval earthquake shock 
 From Benvenue's gray summit wild, 
 And here, in random ruin piled. 
 They frowned incumbent o'er the spot. 
 And formed tlie rugged sylvan grot.
 
 Canto 111. THE GATIJJIRING. 77 
 
 The oak and birch, with mingled shade 
 At noontide there a twihght made, 
 Unless when short and sudden shone 
 Some straggl'mg beam on clill' or stone. 
 With such a^ glimpse as prophet's eye 
 Gains on thy depth, Futurity. 
 No murmur waked the solemn still, 
 Save tinkling of a fountain nil ; 
 But when tlie wind chafed with the lake, 
 A sullen sound would upward break, 
 With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 
 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 ; 
 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. 
 And satyrs* hold their sylvan court, 
 By moonlight tread tiieir mystic maze, 
 And blast the rash beholder's gaze. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Now eve, with western shadows long. 
 Floated on Katrine bright and strong, 
 When Roderick, 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. 
 To launch the shallop from the shore. 
 For cross Loch-Katrine lies his way 
 To view the passes of Achray, 
 And place his clansmen in array. 
 Yet lags the Chief in musing mind, 
 Unwonted sight, his men behind. 
 
 * The [frisk, or highland satyr. See Note.
 
 ?3 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto III 
 
 A single page, to bear his sword, 
 
 Alone attended on his lord ; 
 
 The rest their way through thickets break, 
 
 And soon await him by the lake. 
 
 It was a fair and gallant sight, 
 
 To view them from the neighbouring hci;;ht 
 
 By the low-levelled sunbeam's light; 
 
 For strength and stature, from the clan 
 
 Each warrior was a chosen man, 
 
 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 groupe they stand, 
 
 That well became such mountain strand. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Their chief with step reluctant still, 
 Was lingering on the craggy hill, 
 Hard by where turned apart the road 
 To Douglas's obscure abode. 
 It was but with thai dawning mom 
 That Roderick 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. 
 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 ; 
 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 inly did he curse the breeze 
 That waked to sound the rustling trees. 
 But hark 1 what nnngles in the strain •• 
 It is the harp of Allan-bane,
 
 Canto m. THE GATHERLNG. 79 
 
 Tliat wakes its measures slow and high. 
 Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 
 What melting voice attends the strings? 
 Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings. 
 
 XXIX. 
 HYMN TO THE VIRGIN. 
 
 4ve Maria ! maiden mild i 
 
 Listen to a maiden's prayer ; 
 Thou canst hear, thouo-h from the wild ; 
 
 Thou canst save amid despair. 
 Safe may we sleep beneath thy care. 
 
 Though banished, outcast, and reviled — 
 Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer. 
 
 Mother I hear a suppliant child ! 
 
 Ave Maria 
 
 Ave Maria I 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 suppliant child I 
 
 Ave Mnna 
 
 Ave Maria I 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, 
 
 Beneath thy guidance reconciled; 
 Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer, 
 
 And for a father hear a child I 
 
 Ave Mana 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Oied on the harp the closing hynui 
 tinmoved in attitude and limb.
 
 80 LADY OF THE LAKE. C:iu\n fll 
 
 As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lord 
 Stood leading on his heavy sword, 
 Until the page, witii iiumble sign, 
 Twice pointed to the sun's decline ; 
 Then, while his plaid he round him cast; 
 "It is the last time — "tis the last," — 
 He muttered thrice, — '• tlie last time e'er 
 That angel voice shall Roderick liear 1" 
 It was a goading thought — his stride 
 Hied hastier down the mountain side ; 
 Sullen he fiung him in the boat, 
 And instant cross tlie lake it shot. 
 They landed in that silvery bay, . 
 And eastward held their hasty \\iiy, 
 Till with the latest beams of ligiit. 
 The band arrived on Lanric height, 
 Where mustered in the vale below, 
 Clan-Alpine's men in martial show. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 A various scene the clansmen made, 
 
 Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed 
 
 But most, with mantles folded round, 
 
 Were couched to rest upon the ground, 
 
 Scarce to be known by curious eye, 
 
 From the deep heather where they lie. 
 
 So well was matched the tartan screen 
 
 With heath-bell dark and brackens green ; 
 
 Unless wliere, here and there, a biade, 
 
 Or lance's point, a glimmer made, 
 
 Like glowworm twmkling through the shade 
 
 But, when, advancing through the gloom. 
 
 They saw the Ciiiefiain's eagle plume. 
 
 Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 
 
 Shook the steep mountain's steady side. 
 
 Thrice it arose, and lake and fell 
 
 Three times returned the martial yell. 
 
 It died upon Bochastle's plain, 
 
 And ■si'encft claimed her evcnmg rei^. 
 
 END OF CANTO THIRD. ~
 
 THE 
 LABY OF TMH I^AWWl. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH. ,N^ 
 THE PROPHECY. 
 
 I. 
 
 "THE rose is fairest when 'tis budding new. 
 And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears 
 
 The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, 
 And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears. 
 
 O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, 
 I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave, 
 
 Emblem of hope and love through future years!' 
 Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave 
 What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad 
 wave. 
 
 II. 
 
 i'Juch fond conceit, half said half sung, 
 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 sentinel he stood. 
 Hark ! — on the rock a footstep rung 
 Antl instant to his arms he sprung. 
 " Stand, or thou diest 1 — 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."— 
 (For while the Fiery Cross hied on. 
 On distant scout ha'd Mahse gone.) 
 F
 
 82 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 
 
 ** Where sleeps the Chief.-"' the licncliinan said, 
 " Apart, ill yonder misty glade ; 
 To his ione couch ril be your guide." 
 Then called a slumberer by his side, 
 And stirred him with his slackened bow — 
 " Up, up, Glentarlvin '. rouse thee, ho I 
 We seek the Chieftain ; on the track 
 eep eagle-watch till I come Dack." 
 
 in. ^ 
 
 1 osfctlier up the pass they sped : 
 
 "What of the foemen," Norman said — 
 
 " Varying reports from near and far ; 
 
 This certain, — that a band of war 
 
 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 
 
 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 ])rovide 
 
 A shelter for thy bonny bride.'" — 
 
 "Whatl knowye not'that Roderick'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, 
 
 Nor skift'nor >?hallop, boat nor barge. 
 
 Upon these lakes shall float at largo. 
 
 But all beside the islet moor, 
 
 Tliat such dear pledge may rest secure-' '' 
 
 IV. 
 
 " 'Tis well advised — the Chieftain's plan 
 Bespeaks the father of his clan. 
 But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu 
 Apart from all hi.>j followor.'^ true'"
 
 Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 83 
 
 " It is, because last evening-tide, 
 
 Brian an augury had tried, 
 
 ■ r that dread kind which must not b3 
 
 I ulesti in dread extremity, 
 
 The Taighairm called ; by wliich, afar, 
 
 O'lr sirrs foresaw the events of war. 
 
 Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew.' — 
 
 MALTSE. 
 
 " Ah ! well the gallant brute 1 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 ; 
 So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, 
 Sore did lie cumber our retreat, 
 And kept our stoutest kernes in awe, 
 Even at the pass of Beal 'maha. 
 But steep and flinty was tlie road, 
 And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad, 
 And when we came to Deunan's Row, 
 A child min-ht scatheless stroke his brow." 
 
 '' NORMAN. 
 
 ** That bull was slain : his reeking liido 
 They stretched the cataract beside, 
 Wiiose waters their wild tumult toss 
 Adown the black and craggy boss 
 Of that huge cliff", whose ample verge 
 Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. 
 Couch'd on a shelve beneath its brink, 
 Close where the thundering torrents sink, 
 Rocking beneath their headlong sway, 
 And drizzled by the ceaseless spray. 
 Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream, 
 The wizard waits prophetic dream. 
 Nor distant rests the Chief: — but hush I 
 See, gliding slow through mist and bush,
 
 84 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto iV 
 
 The hermit gains yon rock, and stands 
 
 To gaze upon our slumbering bands. 
 
 Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost, 
 
 That hovers o'er a slaughtered host 1 
 
 Or raven on the blasted oak, 
 
 That, watching while the deer is broke,* 
 
 His morsel claims with sullen croak ?" — 
 
 — '' Peace I peace ! to other than to me. 
 
 Thy words were evil augury ; 
 
 But still 1 hold Sir Roderick's blade 
 
 Clan Alpine's omen and her aid. 
 
 Not aught that, gleaned from heaven or hel 
 
 Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell. 
 
 The Chieftain joins him, see — and now, 
 
 Together they de;fcend the brow." — 
 
 VL 
 And, as tjiey came, with Alpine's lord 
 The hermit'Monk held solemn word : 
 " Roderick ! it is a fearful strife, 
 For man endowed with mortal hfe. 
 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.— 
 'Tis hard for such to view, unfurled, 
 The curtain of the future world 
 Yet, witness every quaking limL, 
 My sunken pulse, mine eyeballs dim. 
 My soul with harrowing anguish torn, 
 This for my chieftain have I borne 1 — 
 The shapes that sought my fearful couch, 
 A human tongue may ne'er avouch ; 
 No mortal man, — save he, who, bred 
 Between the living and the dead, 
 Is gifted beyond nature's law, — 
 Had e'er survived to say he saw. 
 At length the fatal answer came, 
 In characters of living flame ' 
 
 * Quartered. Sec Note.
 
 Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 85 
 
 Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll. 
 But borne and branded on my soul •, — 
 Which spills the foremost foeman's life. 
 That party conquers in the strife." 
 
 VTT. \i- 
 
 "■ Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care I 
 Good is tliine augury, and fair. 
 Clan- Alpine, ne'er in battle stood. 
 But first our broad-swords tasted blood. 
 A surer victim still I know, 
 Self-ofFerod to the auspicious blow ; 
 A spy hath sought my land tliis morn, 
 
 No eve shall witness his return! _ 
 
 My followers guard each pass's mouth, 
 To east, to westward, and to south; 
 Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide, 
 Has charge to lead his steps aside, 
 Till, in deep path or dingle brown, 
 He light on those shall bring him down. — 
 But see, who comes his news to show I 
 Malise I what tidings of the foe ?" 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive, 
 
 Two barons proud their banners wave. 
 
 1 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 wortliy foes. 
 
 When move they on ?" — '' To-morrow's noon 
 
 Will see them here for battle boune." — 
 
 " Then shall it see a meeting stern I- 
 
 But, for the place — say, couldst thou learn 
 
 Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? 
 
 Strengthened by them we well might bide 
 
 The battle on Benledi's side. — 
 
 Thou couldst not? — well ! Clan- Alpine's men 
 
 Shall man the Trosach's shaggy gien ;
 
 S6 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canio IV 
 
 Within Loch- Katrine's gorge we'll fight, 
 All hi our maids' and niiilrons' sight, 
 Each for his hearth and household fire, 
 Father for child, an^I ,-;on for sire. 
 Lover for maid beloved 1 — but why- 
 Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 
 Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear ! 
 A messenger of doubt or fear ? 
 No I sooner may the Saxon lance 
 Unfix Benlcdi from his stance, 
 Than doubt or terror can pierce through 
 The unyielding heart of Roderick Dim ; 
 'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe. — 
 Each to his post 1 — all know their charge." — 
 The pibroch sounds, the bands advance, 
 The broad-swords gleam, the banners dancu- 
 Obedienl to the Chieftain's glance. 
 I turn me from the martial roar, 
 And seek Coir-Uriskin once more. 
 
 Where is the Douglas? — he is gone; 
 And Ellen sits on the gray stone 
 Fast by the cave, and makes her moan ; 
 While vainly Allan's words of cheer 
 Are poured on her unheeding ear. — 
 ■' He will return — Dear lady, trust 1 — 
 With joy return ; — he will — he must. 
 Well was it time to seek afar, 
 Some re^'uge from impending war, 
 When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm 
 Are cow'd by the approaching storm. 
 I saw their boats, with many a light, 
 Floating the live-long yesternight. 
 Shifting like flashes darted forth 
 By the red streamers of the north ; 
 I marked at morn how close they ride, 
 Thick moored by the lone islet's side, 
 Like wild ducks couching in the fen. 
 When stoops the hawk upon the glen.
 
 Canto IV THE PROPHECY. 67 
 
 Since tins rude race dare not abide 
 The peril on the mainland side, 
 Shall not thy noble father's care 
 Some safe retreat for thee prepare?" — 
 
 X. 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 No, Allan, no I Pretext so kind 
 My wakeful terrors could not blind. 
 Wiien in such tender tone, yet grave, 
 Douglas a mining blest^lng gave, 
 The tear that glistened in his eye 
 Drov/ned not his jjurpose fixed and high. 
 My soul, though feminine aud Aveak, 
 Can image his ; e'en as the lake, 
 Itself dislurbed by slightest stroke. 
 Reflects the invulnerable rock. 
 He hears report of battle rife. 
 He deems himself the cause of strife 
 I saw liim redden, vvlien the theme 
 Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream, 
 Of Malcolm Grceme in fetters bound, 
 Which I, thou said'st, about him wound. 
 Think'st thou he trow'd thine omen aughi 
 Oh no 1 'tvvas appreliensive thought 
 For the kind youth, — for Roderick too — 
 (Let me be just) that friend so true ; 
 In danger both, and in our cause I 
 Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. 
 Why else that solenm v/arning given,^ 
 "If not on earth, we meet in heaven?'' 
 Why else, to Cambus-kennetlfs fane, 
 If eve return liim not again. 
 Am I to hie and make me known ? 
 Alas 1 he goes to Scotland's throne, 
 Buys his friends' safety with his own , — 
 He goes to do — what I had done, 
 Had Douglas' daughter been his son '.**
 
 88 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canlo IV 
 
 XL 
 
 '' Nay, lovely Ellen I — dearest, nay I 
 
 If aught should his return delay, 
 
 He only named yon holy fane 
 
 As fitting place to meet again. 
 
 Be sure he's safe ; and for the Gra?me, — 
 
 Pleaven's blessing on his gallant name I — 
 
 My vision sight may yet prove true, 
 
 Nor bode of ill to him or you. 
 
 When did my gifted dream beguile.'* 
 
 Think of the stranger at the isle, 
 
 And think upon the harpings slow, 
 
 That pre-saged this approaching wo ! 
 
 Sooth was my prophecy of fear ; 
 
 Believe it when it augurs cheer. 
 
 Would we had left this dismal spot I 
 
 111 luck still haunts a fairy grot. 
 
 Of such a wondrous tale I know — 
 
 Dear lady, change that look of wo I 
 
 My liarp was wont thy grief to cheer,'' — 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 "Well, be it as thou wilt ; I hear, 
 But cannot stop the bursting tear."- - 
 The minstrel tried his simple art. 
 But distant far was Ellen's heart- 
 
 Xll 
 B ALLAH 
 
 ALICE BRAND. 
 
 Merry it is in the good green wood, 
 
 When the mavis* and merlet are singing. 
 
 When the deer sweeps by, and the laounds arc ui 
 cry. 
 And the hunter's horn is ringing. 
 
 * Thrush. t IV.aclibird
 
 Cinto IV. THE PROPHECY. I« 
 
 " O Alice Brand, my native land 
 
 Is lost, for love of you ; 
 And we must hold by wood and wold. 
 
 As outlaws wont to do. 
 
 " O Alice, "'twas all for thy locks so bright. 
 And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue. 
 
 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. 
 
 And stakes to fence our cave. 
 
 "And for vest of pall, thy fingers small. 
 
 That wont on harp to stray, 
 A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer. 
 
 To keep the cold away." — 
 
 ■' O Richard I 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, 
 
 Nor thou the crimson sheen, 
 ,'\s warm, we'll say, is the russet gray, 
 
 As gay the forest-green. 
 
 " And, Ricliard, if our lot be hard, 
 
 And lost thy native land, 
 Still Alice has h<ir own Richard, 
 
 And he his Alice Brand." — 
 
 xin. 
 
 BALLAD CONTLNUED. 
 
 j 
 
 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good green wood. 
 
 So blithe Lady Alice is singing ; 
 On the beech's pride, and the oak's brown side. 
 
 Lord Richard's axe is rinjring.
 
 % LADY OF THE LAKL. Cuntu «V 
 
 Up spoke the moody Elfin Kinz, 
 
 Who wonM within the hill, — 
 r^ike wind in the porch of a ruined church. 
 
 His voice was ghostly shrill. 
 
 " Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak. 
 
 Our moonlight circle's screen? 
 Or who comes here to chase the deer, 
 
 Beloved of our Elfin Queen .'' 
 Or who may dare on wold to wear 
 
 The fairie's fatal jrreen? 
 
 " 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, 
 
 " Lay on him the curse of the withered heart. 
 
 The curse of the sleepless eye ; 
 Till he v/ish and pray that his life would part. 
 
 Nor yet find leave to die." — 
 
 XIV. 
 BALLAD CONTINUED. 
 
 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good green wood, 
 Though the birds have stilled their singing 
 
 The evening blaze doth Alice raise, 
 And Richard is fagots bringing. 
 
 Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, 
 Before Lord Richard stands, 
 
 And, as he crossed and blessed himself, 
 I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, 
 " That is made with bloody hands." 
 
 J ut out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 
 
 That woman void of fear, — 
 * And if there's blood upon his hand, 
 
 'Tis but the blood of deer."— 
 
 ' Now loud thou liest. thou bold of mood ' 
 (t cleaves unto his hand.
 
 CsuitoIV. THE PROPHECY. 91 
 
 Tho stain of thme own kindly blood, 
 The blood of Ethert Brand."— 
 
 Then forward stepp'd she, Alice Brand, 
 
 And made the holy sign, — 
 *' And if there's blood on Richard's hand, 
 
 A spotless hand is mine. 
 
 " And I conjure thee, Demon elf, 
 
 By him whom Demons fear. 
 To show us whence thou art thyself? 
 
 And what thine errand here ?" — 
 
 XV. 
 BALLAD CONTINUED. 
 
 " 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairy lana, 
 
 When fairy birds are sin^ng, 
 When the court doth ride by their monarch's side 
 
 With bit and bridle ringing. 
 
 ** And gayly shines the Fairy land — 
 
 But all is glistening show. 
 Like the idle gleam that December "s beam 
 
 Can dart on ice and snow. 
 
 " And fading, like that varied gleam. 
 
 Is our inconstant shape. 
 Who now like knight and lady seem. 
 
 And now like dwarf and ape. 
 
 **It was between the night and day. 
 
 When the Fairy King has power. 
 That I sunk down in a sinful fray. 
 And, 'twixt life and death, was snatched away. 
 
 To the joyless Elfin bower. 
 
 ^ 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."
 
 92 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 
 
 She crossed him once — she crossed him twice -^ 
 
 That lady was so hntve ; 
 The fouler grew his goblin hue, 
 
 The darker grew the cave. 
 
 She crossed him thrice, that lady bold: 
 
 He rose beneatii her liand 
 The fairest knight on Scottisli mold. 
 
 Her Brother, Etiiert Brand 1 
 
 Merry it is in the good green wood, 
 When the mavis and merle are singing, 
 
 But merrier were they in Dunfcrmiine gray. 
 When all the bells were ringing. 
 
 y XVI. 
 
 lust as the minstrel sounds were staid. 
 
 A stranger climbed the stecpy glade 
 
 His martial step, his stately mien, 
 
 His hunting suit of Lincoln green, 
 
 His eagle glance, remembrance claims— 
 
 Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'tis James Fitz-Jameft 
 
 Ellen beheld as in a dream, 
 
 Then starting, scarce suppressed a scream • 
 
 ''O stranger', in such hour of fear. 
 
 What evil hap has brought thee here?" 
 
 " An evil hap, hovv can it be. 
 
 That bids me look again on thee ? 
 
 By promise bound, my former guide 
 
 Met me betimes this morning tido. 
 
 And marshaird, over bank and bourne. 
 
 The liappy path of my return.'" — 
 
 " The happy path 1 — what ! said he nought 
 
 Of war, of battle to be fought. 
 
 Of guarded pass?" — " >'u, by my faith I 
 
 Nor saw I aught could augur scathe.''' — 
 
 "Oh haste thee, Allan, to the kerne, — 
 
 Yonder his tartans I discern : — 
 
 Learn thou his purpose, and conjure 
 
 That he will guide the stranger sure I —
 
 Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 93 
 
 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 hero." 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Sweet Ellen, dear my life must bo, 
 
 Since it is worthy care from tJiee ; 
 
 Yet hfe I hold but idle breath, 
 
 When love or honour's weighed with death : 
 
 Then let me profit by my chance. 
 
 And speak my purpose bold at once, 
 
 [ 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. 
 
 Near Bochastle my horses wait ; 
 
 They bear us soon to Stirling gate. 
 
 ril place thee in a lovely bower, 
 
 ril guard thee hke a tender flower." 
 
 '* O ! hush, Sir Knight 1 'twere female art. 
 
 To say I do not read thy heart ; 
 
 Too much, before, my selfish ear 
 
 VVas idly soothed my praise to hear. 
 
 That fatal bait hath lured thee back, 
 
 In deathful hour, o'er dangeroiLs track; 
 
 And hov/, O how, can I atone 
 
 The wreck my vanity brought on I — 
 
 One way remains — 1 11 tell him all — 
 
 Yes ! struggling bosom, forth it shall . 
 
 Thou, whose light folly bears the blame, 
 
 Buy tliine own pardon with thy shame . 
 
 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. — 
 
 Still would'st thus speak ? then hear the truiii 
 
 Fitz-James, there is a noble youth, — 
 
 [f yet he is ! — exposed for me 
 
 And mine to dread extremity
 
 94 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 
 
 Thou hast the secret of my heart ; 
 Forgive, be generous, and depart." — 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 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, 
 
 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, 
 
 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 sympathy. 
 
 He proffered to attend her side, 
 
 As brother would a sister guide. — 
 
 " O ! little know'st thou Roderick's heart.' 
 
 Safer for both we go apart. 
 
 O haste thee, and from Allan learn, 
 
 If thou may'st trust yon wily kerne."— 
 
 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 turned, and came again. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 *'Hear, lady, yet a parting word I — 
 It chanced in fi^ht that my poor sword 
 Preserved the life of Scotland's lord. 
 This ring the grateful Monarch gave, 
 And bade, when I had boon to crave, 
 To bring it back, and boldly claim 
 The recompense that I would name. 
 Fallen, I am no courtly lord. 
 But one who lives by lance and sword.
 
 Car.to IV. THE PROPHECY. 95 
 
 Wiose castle is his helm and shield, 
 
 His lordship, the embatiled field. 
 
 What from a prince caa I demand, 
 
 Who neither reek of state nor land? 
 
 Ellen, thy hand — the ring is thine ; 
 
 Each guard and usher knows the sign. 
 
 Seek thou the king without delay, 
 
 The signet shall secure thy way ; 
 
 And claim thy suit, whatever it be, 
 
 As ransom of his ])ledge to me." 
 
 He placed the golden circle on, 
 
 Paused — kissed her hand — and then was gor.rf 
 
 The aged minstrel stood aghast. 
 
 So hastily Fitz-James shot past. 
 
 He joined his guide, and wending down 
 
 The ridges of the mountain brown, 
 
 Across ti;e stream they took their way, 
 
 That joins Loch-Katrine to Achray. 
 
 XX. 
 
 All in the Trosach's glen was still, 
 
 Noontide was sleeping on the hill : 
 
 Sudden his guide whooped loud and high — 
 
 '• 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 I gallant gray. 
 
 For thee, for me, perchance — 'twere well 
 
 Had we ne'er seen the Trosach's dell. — 
 
 Murdoch, move first — but silently ; 
 
 Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die; " — 
 
 Jealous and sullen on they fared. 
 
 Each silent, each upon his guard. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Now wound the path its dizzy ledge 
 .Ground a precipice's edge. 
 When lo 1 a wasted female form, 
 Blighted by wrath of sun and storm,
 
 9f) LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto n' 
 
 In tattered weeds and wild array, 
 
 Stood on a cliiF beside the way, 
 
 And glancing round her restless eye, 
 
 Upon the wood, the rock, the sky, 
 
 Seemed nought to mark, yet all to spy. 
 
 Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom ; 
 
 With gesture wild she waved a plume 
 
 Of feathers, which the eagles fling 
 
 To crag and cliff from dusky wing; 
 
 Such spoils her desperate step had sought, 
 
 Where scarce was footing for the goat. 
 
 Tlie tartan plaid she first descried. 
 
 And shrieked, till all the rocks replied ; 
 
 As loud she laughed when near tliey drew, 
 
 Fo" *.hen the lowland garb she knew ; 
 
 And then her hands she wildly rung. 
 
 And then she wept, and then she sung. — 
 
 She sung 1 — the voice, in better time. 
 
 Perchance to harp or lute miirht chime ; 
 
 And now, though strained and roughened, still 
 
 Rung wildly sweet to dale and liill. 
 
 XXII. 
 SONG. 
 They bid mc sleep, they bid me prav, 
 
 They say my brain is warped and wning — 
 I cannot sleep on hisrhland brae, 
 
 I cannot pray in Highland tongue. 
 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 wintr}' day I 
 
 •Twas thus my hair they bade me braid, 
 They bade me to the church repair ; 
 
 It was my bridal mom they said. 
 And my true love would meet me there. 
 
 But wo betide tlie cruel guile, 
 
 That drowned in blood the morning smile 
 
 And wo betide the fairv' dream ! 
 
 I only waked to sob and scream.
 
 Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 37 
 
 xxm. 
 
 " Wlio is this maid ? what means her lay ? 
 
 She hovers o'er the hollow way, 
 
 And flutters wide her mantle gray, 
 
 As the lone heron spreads his wing, 
 
 By twilight 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. 
 
 When Roderick forayed Devan-side. 
 
 The gay bridegroom resistance made. 
 
 And felt our chief's unconquered blade 
 
 I marvel she is now at large, 
 
 Rut ofl she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge.- 
 
 Hence, brain-sick fool I" — He raised his bow :- 
 
 " Now, if tliou strickest her but one blow, 
 
 I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far 
 
 As ever peasant pitched a bar." — 
 
 " Thanks, champion, thanks 1" the Maniac cried 
 
 And pressed her to Fitz-James's side. 
 
 " See the gray pennons I prepare, 
 
 To seek my true-love through the air I 
 
 I will not lend that savage groom. 
 
 To break his fall, one downy plume ! 
 
 No I — deep amid disjointed stones. 
 
 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, 
 
 Meet signal for their revelry." — 
 
 XXIV. 
 *' Hush tliee, poor maiden, and be still 1" 
 " O ! thou look'st kindly, and I will. — 
 Mine eye has dried and wasted been, 
 But still it loves the Lincoln green ; 
 And, though mine ear is all unstrung. 
 Still, still it loves the lowland tongue. 
 
 For O my sweet WiUiam was forester trufj- 
 He stole poor Blanche's heart away !
 
 98 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 
 
 flis coat it was all of the greenwood hui.-, 
 And so blithely he trilled the lowland lay '. — 
 
 It was not that I meant to tell — 
 But thou art wise, and gues?est well." — 
 Then, in a low and broken tone, 
 And hurried note, the song went on. 
 Still on the Clansman, fearfully, 
 She fixed her apprehensive eye ; 
 Then turned it on the 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 ; 
 The bows they bend, and the knives tliey whcl, 
 
 Hunters live so cheerily. 
 It was a stag, a stag of ten,* 
 
 Bering his branches sturdily ; 
 He came stately down the glen, 
 
 Ever sing hardily, hardily. 
 
 It was there he met with a wounded doe ; — 
 
 She was bleeding deathfuUy; "» 
 
 She warned him ot" the toils below, 
 
 O so faithfully, faithfully I 
 He had an eye, and he could heed. 
 
 Ever sing warily, warily ; 
 fie had a foot, and he could speed — 
 
 Hunters watch so narrowly. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Fitz-James's mind was passion-toss'd, 
 When Ellen's hints and fears were lost; 
 But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrough.t, 
 And Blanche's song conviction brouglit.— 
 Not hke the stag that spies the snare. 
 But lion of the hunt aware, 
 
 • Having ten branches on his anuera
 
 Canto rV^ THE PROPHECY. «JJ 
 
 He waved at once his blade on high, 
 " Disclose lliy treachery, cr die !" — 
 Forth at full speed the Clansman flew. 
 But in his race his bow he drew. 
 The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest, 
 And thrilled in Blanche's faded breast.^ 
 Murdoch of Alpine ! prove thy speed, 
 For ne'er had Alpine's son such need ! 
 With heart of fire, and foot of wind, 
 The fierce avenger is behind ! 
 Fate judges of the rapid strife — 
 The forfeit, death — the prize is life I 
 Thy kindred ambush lies before, 
 Close couched upon the heathery moor ; 
 Them couldst thou reach I — it may not be— 
 Thine ambushed kin. thou ne'er shalt see, 
 The fiery Saxon gains on thee 1 
 R.esislless speeds the deadly thrust, 
 As lightning strikes the pine to dust ; 
 With foot and hand Fitz- James must strain 
 Ere he can win his blade again. 
 Bent o'er the fallen, with falcon eye. 
 He grimly smiled to see liim die ; 
 Then slower wended back his way. 
 Where flie poor maiden bleeding lav 
 
 XXVIL 
 
 She sate beneath the birchen tree. 
 
 Her elbow resting on her knee ; 
 
 She had withdrawn the fatal shaft. 
 
 And gazed on it, and feebly laugh'd ; 
 
 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 
 
 Of reason's power than years before : 
 
 For, as these ebbing veins decay, 
 
 My frenzied visions fade away.
 
 100 LADY OF TPIE LAKE. Canto IV 
 
 A helpless injured wretch I die, 
 And something tslls me in thine eye, 
 That thou wort mine avenger bom. — 
 Seest thou this tress? — O 1 siill I've worn 
 This httle tress of yellow hair. 
 Through danger, frenzy, and despair I 
 [t once was bright and clear as thine, 
 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, 
 Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain. 
 And thou wilt bring it me again. — 
 I waver still I — O God I more briglit 
 Let Reason beam her parting light ! — 
 O I by thy knighthood's honoured sign. 
 And for thy life preserved by mine, 
 When thou shalt see a darksome man, 
 Wiio boasts him Chief of Alpine's clan, 
 With tartans broad, and shadowy plume. 
 And hand of blood, and brow of gloom. 
 Bo thy heart bold, thy weapon strong. 
 And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wron^r: 
 They watch for thee by pass and fell — 
 Avoid the paih — O God I — farewell." 
 
 XXVIIL 
 
 A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James ; 
 Fast poured his eye 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 I" — 
 A lock from Blanche's tresses fair 
 He blended with her bridegroom's h&ir; 
 The mingled braid in blood he died, 
 And placed it on his bonnet side : 
 '' By Him whose word is truth 1 I swear, 
 No other favour will I wear.
 
 Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 101 
 
 Till ihis sad token 1 imbrre 
 
 In the best blood of Roderick Dim I — 
 
 But hark ! wliat means yon faint halloo •^ 
 
 The chase is up, — but they shall know, 
 
 The stag at bay's a dangerous foe." — 
 
 Barr'd from the known but guarded way, 
 
 Through copse and cliff Fitz-Janies must stmy- 
 
 And oft must change Jiis desperate track. 
 
 By stream and precipice turned back. 
 
 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, 
 
 This frantic feat will prove the last 1 
 
 Who e'er so mad but might have guess'd, 
 
 That all this highland hornet's nest 
 
 Would muster up in swarms so soon 
 
 As e'er they heard of bands at Doune.' 
 
 Like bloodhounds now they search me out.-" 
 
 Hark ! to the whistle and the shout ! — 
 
 If further tlirough the wilds 1 go, 
 
 I only fall upon the foe ; 
 
 I'll couch me here till evening gray, 
 
 Then darkling try my dangerous way." — 
 
 XXIX. r^ 
 
 The shades of eve come slowly down, 
 The woods are wrapped in deeper browii, 
 The owl awakens from her dell. 
 The fox is heard upon the fell ; 
 Enough remains of glimmering light 
 To guide the wanderer's steps aright. 
 Yet not enough from, far to show 
 His figure to the watchful foe. 
 With cautious step, and ear awake. 
 He climbs the crag and threads the brake ; 
 .'Vnd not the summer solstice there, 
 Temper'd the midnight mountain air, 
 But every breeze, that swept the wold, 
 Benumbed his drenched limbs with cold.
 
 102 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 
 
 In dreail, 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. 
 
 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 .'"'— 
 
 " 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 i"'— " No." 
 
 " Thou darest not call thyself a foe ?"- - 
 
 " I dare ! to him and all the band 
 
 He brings to aid liis murd'crous hand," — 
 
 " Bold words 1 — but, though the beast of game 
 
 The privilege of chase may claim, 
 
 Though space and law the stag we lend. 
 
 Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend. 
 
 Who ever reck'd, where, how, or when, 
 
 The prowling fox was trapped or slain i* 
 
 Thus treacherous scouts, — yet sure they lie. 
 
 Who say thou camest a secret spy !" 
 
 " They do, by heaven I — Come Roderick 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. 
 
 Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight." 
 
 " Then, by these tokens mayst thou know, 
 
 Each proud oppressor's mortal foe." — 
 
 " Enough, enough ; sit down and share 
 
 A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare." — 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 He gvive him of his highland cheer. 
 The hardened Hesh of mountain deer;
 
 CaiitoIV THE PROPHECY. 103 
 
 Dry fuel on the fire he laid, 
 
 And bade the Saxon share his plaid ; 
 
 He tended him like welcome guest, 
 
 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 ; 
 
 Yet more,^upon thy 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, 
 
 Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand ; 
 But, nor for clan, nor kindred's cause, 
 Will I depart from honour's laws : ^^^ 
 \ To assail a wearied man were shameT^ 
 And stranger is a holy name ; ^^ ^ 
 <* -^Guidance and rest, and food and fire, 
 In vain he never must require. 
 Then rest thee here till dawn of day. 
 Myself will guide thee on the way. 
 O'er stock and stone, through watch and ward. 
 Till past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard, 
 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 I" — 
 '• 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 foenien, side by side. 
 Lay peaceful down like brothers tried, 
 And slept until the dawning beam 
 Purpled the mountain and the stroajiu 
 
 END OF CANTO FODfiTij
 
 k 
 
 THE 
 
 L^P¥ OF TflEl £,AIif]» 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 THE COMBAT. 
 
 I. 
 
 FAIR as the earliest beam of eastern light, 
 
 When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied 
 It smiles upon the dreary brow of ni^ht, 
 
 And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide, 
 And lights the fearful path on mountain side , 
 
 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 tlie 
 brow of War. 
 
 II. 
 
 That early beam, so fair and sheen, 
 Was twiniiling through the hazel screen, 
 When, rousing at its glimmer red, 
 The warriors left their lowly bed. 
 Looked out upon the dappled sky. 
 Muttered their soldier matins by. 
 And then awaked their fire, to steal, 
 As short and rude, their soldier meal. 
 That o'er, the Gael* around liira threw 
 His graceful plaid of varied hue, 
 And, true to promise, led the v/ay. 
 By thicket green and mountain gray. 
 
 * The Scottish Highlander calls himself Gael, or CltU. 
 and terms the Lowlanders, Sassenach, or Saxons.
 
 106 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 A wildcring path I — they winded now 
 Along the precipice's brow, 
 Commanding- the rich scenes beneath, 
 Tiie windings of the Forth and Teith, 
 And all the vales between tliat lie. 
 Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky ; 
 Then, sunk in copse, their furthest glance 
 Gained not the length of horseman's lance. 
 'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 
 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, 
 [t rivals all but Beauty's tear ! 
 
 IIL 
 
 At length they came where .stem and steep, 
 
 The hill sinks down upon the deep ; 
 
 Here Vennachar in silver flows. 
 
 There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose. 
 
 Ever the hollow path twined on. 
 
 Beneath steep bank and threatening stono • 
 
 A hundred men might hold the post 
 
 With hardihood against a host. 
 
 The rugged mountain's scanty cloak 
 
 Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak. 
 
 With shingles bare, and cliffs between, 
 
 And patches briglit of bracken green. 
 
 And heather black, that waved so high, 
 
 It Jield the copse in rivalry. 
 
 But where the lake slept deep and still. 
 
 Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hil' 
 
 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 sand. 
 
 So toilsome was tlie road to trace. 
 
 The guide, abating of his pace. 
 
 Led slowly through the pass's jaws. 
 
 And asked Fitz-Jamcs, by what strange cr.upe
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT. 107 
 
 He sought thesa wilds ; traversed by few, 
 Without a pass from Roderick Dhu ? 
 
 ..-^ IV 
 
 •' Brave Gaael, my pass, in danger tried, 
 Hangs in my belt, and by ray side ; 
 Vet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said. 
 •' I dreamed not nov/ to claim its aid. 
 When here, out three days' since, I came, 
 [Jev/ildcred in pursuit of game, 
 All seem.ed as peaceful and as still, 
 As the mist slumbering on yon hill ; 
 Thy dangerous chief was then afar, 
 iWr soon expected back from war. 
 Thus said, at least, my mountain guide, 
 Though deep, perchance, the villain lied." 
 '' Yet why a second venture try ?" — • 
 " A warrior thou, and ask me why ! — 
 Moves our free course by 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 
 A knight's free footsteps far and wide ; — 
 A falcon flown, a gray hound strayed. 
 The merry glance of mountain maid; 
 Or, if a path be dangerous known, 
 The danger's self is lure alone." — 
 
 V. 
 
 ' Thy secret keep, I urge thee not ; — 
 Yet, ere again ye sought this spot. 
 Say, heard ye nought of lowland war, 
 Against Clan-Alpine raised by Mar ?" — 
 '' — No, by my word ; — of bands prepared 
 To guard King James's sports I heard ; 
 Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear 
 This muster of the mountaineer, 
 Their pennons will abroad be flung, 
 Which else in Doune had ;;eaceful hung."
 
 108 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 " Free be tliey flung I — for we were lolli 
 Their silken folds should feast the motli. 
 Free be they flung i — as free shall wave 
 Clan-Alpine's pine in banner brave. 
 But, stranger, peaceful since you came 
 Bewildered in the mountain game, 
 Whence the bold boast by which you show 
 V'ich-Alpine's vov/ed and mortal foe:" — 
 •• Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew 
 Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 
 Save as an exiled desperate man, 
 The chief of a rebellious clan, 
 Who, in the Regent's court and sight, 
 With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight. 
 Yet this alone might from his part 
 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 heardst thou why he drew iiis blade.' 
 Heardst thou tliat shameful word aixd blow 
 Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe .' 
 What reck'd the Cliieftain, if he stood 
 On highland heath, or Holy-Rood ? " 
 
 He rights such wrong where it is given. 
 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. 
 The young King, mew'd in Stirling tower, 
 Was stranger to respect and power. 
 But then, thy Chieftain's robber life ! — 
 Winning mean prey b}'^ causeless strife. 
 Wrenching from ruin'd lowland swain 
 His herds and harvest reared in vain, — 
 Methinks a soul, like thine, should scon. 
 The spoils from such foul foray Lome.'
 
 Canto V THE COMBAT. lOb 
 
 V'll. 
 
 The Gael beheld him fifrim the while, 
 
 And answered with disdainful smile, — 
 
 " Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
 
 I marked thee send dehghted eye, 
 
 Far to the south and east, where lay, 
 
 Extended in succession gay, 
 
 Deep waving fields and pastures green, 
 
 With gentle slopes and groves between • 
 
 These fertile plains, that softened valc^ 
 
 Were once the birthright of the Gael ; 
 
 The stranger came with iron hand, 
 
 And from our fathers reft the land. 
 
 Where dwell we now I See rudely swell 
 
 Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. 
 
 As we this savage hill we tread. 
 
 For fattened steer or household bread ; 
 
 Ask we for tlocks these shingles dry, 
 
 And well the mountain might reply, — 
 
 ' To you, as to your sires of yore, 
 
 Belong the target and claymore 1 
 
 I give you shelter in m.y breast. 
 
 Your ov/n good blades must win the rest,'-— 
 
 Pent in this fortress of the North, 
 
 Think'st thou we will not sally forth, 
 
 To spoil the spoiler as we may, 
 
 And from the robber rend llie pre}'^ .■' 
 
 Ay, by my soul I — While on yon plain 
 
 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. 
 
 Where live the mountain chiefs who hold, 
 
 That plundering lowland field and fold 
 
 Is aught but retribution true ? 
 
 Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu.''
 
 110 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Answered Fitz-James, — " And, if I sougiit, 
 
 Think'st thou no other could be brought? 
 
 What deem ye of my path waylaid, 
 
 My life given o'er to ambuscade r'' — 
 
 " As of a meed to rashness due : 
 
 Hadst thou sent warning fair and true, — 
 
 I seek my hound, or falcon strayed, 
 
 I seek, good faith, a highland maid, — 
 
 Free hadst thou been to come and go — 
 
 But secret path marks secret foe. 
 
 Nor yet. for this, even as a spy, 
 
 Hadst thou, unheard, been doomed to die^ 
 
 Save to fulfil an augury," — 
 
 " Well, let it pass ; nor will I now 
 
 Fresh cause of enmity avow. 
 
 To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow 
 
 Enough, I am by promise tied 
 
 To match me with this man of pride : 
 
 Twice have I sought Clan- Alpine's glen 
 
 In peace ; but, when I come agen, 
 
 I come with banner, brand, and bow. 
 
 As leader seeks his mortal foe. 
 
 For lovelorn swain, in lady's bower, 
 
 Ne'er panted for tlie appointed hour. 
 
 As I, until before me stand 
 
 This rebel Chieftain and his band." — 
 
 IX 
 
 "Have, then, thy wish !" he whistled shrill 
 And he was answered from the hill ; 
 Wild as the scream of the curlew. 
 From crag to crag the signal flew. 
 Instant, through copse and heath, arose 
 Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; 
 On right, on left, above, below, 
 Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 
 From shingles gray tlieir lances start, 
 The bracken-bush sends forth the dart,
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT 111 
 
 The rushes and the wiliow-wand 
 
 Are bristUng into axe and brand, 
 
 And every tuft of broom gives life 
 
 To plaided warrior armed for strife. 
 
 That whistle garrisoned the glen 
 
 At once with full five hundred men, 
 
 As if the yawning hill to heaven 
 
 A subterranean host had given. 
 
 Watching their leader's beck and will, 
 
 All silent there they stood and still ; 
 
 Like the loose crags whose threat'ning 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, 
 
 Upon the mountam-side they hung. 
 
 The mountaineer cast glance of pride 
 
 Along Beledi's livmg side, 
 
 Then fixed his eye and sable brow 
 
 Full on Fitz- James — " How say'st thou now- 
 
 These are Clan- Alpine's warriors true ; 
 
 And, Saxon, — I am Roderick Dhu 1" 
 
 Fitz-James was brave : — Though to his heart 
 
 The hfe-blood thrilled with sudden start, 
 
 He mann'd himself with dauntless air, 
 
 Retum'd 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 I."^ 
 
 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 
 
 Dov/n sunk the disappearing band ; 
 
 Each warrior vanished where he stood, 
 
 In broom or bracken, heath or wood ;
 
 112 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 
 
 Sunk brand and spear and bended bow. 
 
 In osiers pale and copses low ; 
 
 It seemed as if llieir mother Eartli 
 
 Had swallowed up her warlike birth. 
 
 The wind's last breath had tossed in air, 
 
 Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair, — 
 
 Tiie next but swept a lone hill-side, 
 
 Where heath and fern were waving wide; 
 
 The sun's last glance was glinted back, 
 
 From lance and glaive, from targe and jacii,— 
 
 The next, all unrellected, shone 
 
 On bracken green, and cold gray stone. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Fitz-James looked round — yet scarce believed 
 
 The witness that his si^ht received ; 
 
 Such apparition well might seem 
 
 Delusion of a dreadful dream. 
 
 Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, 
 
 And to his look the Ciiief replied, 
 
 "Fear nought — nay, that I need not say — 
 
 But — doubt not aught from mine array. 
 
 Thou art my guest ; I pledged my word 
 
 As far as Coilantoglo ford : 
 
 Nor would I call a clansman's brand 
 
 For aid against one valiant hand. 
 
 Though on our strife lay every vale 
 
 Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. 
 
 So move we on ; 1 only meant 
 
 To show the reed on which you leant, 
 
 Deeming this path you might pursue 
 
 Without a pass Irom Roderick Dhu.'" 
 
 They moved. — I said Fitz-James was brave. 
 
 As ever knight that belted glaive ; 
 
 Yet dare not say, that now his blood 
 
 Kept on its wont and tempered flood. 
 
 As. following Roderick's stride, he drew 
 
 That seeming lonesome pathway through. 
 
 Which yei, by fearful proof, was rife 
 
 With lances, that to idkc his life
 
 Canto V. THE COIVIBAT. IH 
 
 Waited but signal from a guide, 
 So late dishonoured and defied. 
 Ever, by stealth, his eye sought rouKd 
 The vanisiicd guardians of the ground, 
 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. 
 Nftr breathed he free till far behind 
 The pass was left ; for then the wind 
 Along a wide 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. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The chief in silence strode before, 
 And reached that torrent's sounding shore, 
 Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, 
 From Vennachar in silver breaks. 
 Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 
 On Bochastlc the mouldering lines, 
 Where Rome, the Empress of the world, 
 Of yore her eagle wings unfurl'd. 
 And hero his course the Chieftain staid, 
 Threw down his target and his plaid, 
 And to the lowland Vv^arrior said :— 
 " Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, 
 Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. 
 This murderous chief, this ruthless man. 
 This head of a rebellious clan, 
 Hath led thee safe, through w\atch 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, 
 Armed, like thyself, with single brand ; 
 For this is Coilantogle ford, 
 And thon must keep tJico with thv sword.' 
 H
 
 114 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 
 
 XUL 
 
 The Saxon paused : — " I no''or delayed, 
 
 When foeman bade me draw my blade ; 
 
 Nay more, brave Chief, I vow'd thy death : 
 
 Yet sure thy fair and generous faiili, 
 
 And my deep debt for life preserved, 
 
 A better meed have well deserv'd : 
 
 Can nought but blood our feud atone? 
 
 Are there no means?'' "No, Stranger, none' 
 
 And hear, — to fire thy Hagging zeal, — 
 
 The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; 
 
 For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred 
 
 Between the living and tho dead ; 
 
 " 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, — 
 
 There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 
 
 Thus Fate has solved her prophcc}', 
 
 Then yield to Fate, and not to me. 
 
 To James, at Stirling, let us go. 
 
 When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 
 
 Or if the King shall not agree 
 
 To grant thee grace and favour free, 
 
 I plight ni'ne honour, oalh, and word, 
 
 Tiiat, to thy native strengths restored. 
 
 With eacji advantage shall thou stand, 
 
 That aids thee now to guard thy land." — 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Dark lightninrr flashed from Roderick's eyo— 
 "• Soars thy presumption, then, so high, 
 Because a wretched kerne ye slew. 
 Homage to name to Roderick Dhu? 
 He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! 
 Thou add'st but fuel to rny hate : — 
 My clansman's blood dem'an-d-^ revenge. — 
 Not yet prepared i" — By heaven. I change
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT. 115 
 
 My thought, and hold thy valour liffht 
 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, R-odcrick, for the word 1 
 It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; 
 For I have sworn this braid to stain 
 In Uie best blood that warms thy vein. 
 Now, truce, farewell I and ruth, be gone I — 
 Yet think not that by thee alone. 
 Proud Chief 1 can courtesy be shown ; 
 Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, 
 Start a,t my whistle clansmen stern. 
 Of this small liorn one feeble blast 
 Would fearful odds against thee cast. 
 But fear not — doubt not — which thou 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, 
 As what they ne'er might see again ; 
 Then, foot, and point, and eye opposed. 
 In dubious strife they darkly closed. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu, 
 That on the field his targe he threw. 
 Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide 
 Had death so often dashed aside ; 
 Eor, trained abroad his arms to wield, 
 Fitz- James's blade was sword and shield. 
 He practised every pass and ward. 
 To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; 
 While less expert, though stronger far, 
 The Gael maintained unequal war. 
 Three times in closing striie they stood, 
 And thrice the Saxon sword drank blood; 
 No stinted draught, no scanty tide. 
 The gushing flood the tartans died.
 
 116 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, 
 And showered his blows like wintry rain ; 
 And, as firm rock, or castle-roof. 
 Against the winter shower is proof, 
 The foe invuln.?rable still 
 Foiled his wild rage by steady skill ; 
 Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand 
 Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand. 
 And, backwards borne upon the lee, 
 Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. 
 
 XVL 
 
 " Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made 
 
 The world, thy heart's blood dies my blade I'* 
 
 ''' Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy I 
 
 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 he- young, 
 
 Full at Fitz- James's throat he sprung, 
 
 Received, but reck'd not of a wound, 
 
 And locked his arms liis foeman round. — 
 
 Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own I 
 
 No maiden's hand is round thee throv/n ! 
 
 That desperate grasp thy frame might feel. 
 
 Through bars of brass and triple steel I 
 
 They tug, they strain ; — down, down they go 
 
 The Gael above, Fitz-Jamcs below. 
 
 The Cbieftain's gripe his throat compress 'd. 
 
 His knee was planted in his breast ; 
 
 His clotted locks he backward threw, 
 
 Across his brow his hand lie drew, 
 
 From blood and mist to clear his sight, 
 
 Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright ! — 
 
 But hate and fury ill supplied 
 
 The stream of life's exhausted tide. 
 
 And all too late the advantage came. 
 
 To turn the odds of deadly ganiie ; 
 
 For, while the dagger gleam'd on high. 
 
 Reeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye.
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT. 117 
 
 Down came llie blov ! but in the heath 
 The erring blade found bloodless sheath. 
 Tlie strug-o-lincr foe may now unclasp 
 The faintiny Chief's relaxing grasp ; 
 Unwounded from the dreadful close, 
 But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 He faltered thanks to Heaven for hfe, 
 
 Redeemed, unhoped, from desperate strife ; 
 
 Next on his foe his look he cast, 
 
 Whose every gasp appeared his last; 
 
 In Roderick's gore he dippM the braid, — 
 
 " Poor Blanche ! thy wrongs are dearly paid; 
 
 Yet with thy foe must die, or live, 
 
 The praise that Faith and Valour give." 
 
 With that he blew a bugle-note, 
 
 Undid the collar from his throat, 
 
 Unbonn-eted, and by the wave 
 
 Sate down his brow and hands to lave. 
 
 Then faint afar are heard the feet 
 
 Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet ; 
 
 The sounds increase, and now are seen 
 
 Four mounted squires in Lincoln green ; 
 
 Two vvho bear lance, and two who lead, 
 
 By loosened rein, a saddled steed ; 
 
 Each onward held his headlong course. 
 
 And by Fitz-James reined up his horse, — 
 
 With wonder viewed the bloody spot — 
 
 — "Exclaim not, gallants I question not — 
 
 You, Herbert and Luffness, alight. 
 
 And bind the wounds of 3'onder knight ; 
 
 Let the gray palfrey bear his weight. 
 
 We destined for a fairer freight, 
 
 And bring liim on to Stirling straiglit ; 
 
 I will before at better speed. 
 
 To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 
 
 The sun rides high ; — ^I must be boune 
 
 To see tlie archer-game at noon ;
 
 113 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 
 
 But lightly Bayard clears the lea. — 
 De Vaux and Herries, follow mc. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 ** Stand, Bayard, stand !" — the steed obeyed. 
 
 With arching neck and bended liead, 
 
 And glancing eye, and quivering ear, 
 
 As if he loved his lord to hear. 
 
 No foot Fitz- James in stirrup staid, 
 
 No grasp upon the saddle laid, 
 
 But wreathed his left hand in the mane, 
 
 And lightly bounded from the plain, 
 
 Turned on the horse his armed heel, 
 
 And stirred his courage with the steel. 
 
 Bounded the fiery steed in air, 
 
 The rider sate erect and fair, 
 
 Then like a bolt from steel cross-bow 
 
 Forth launched, along the plain they go. 
 
 They dashed that rapid torrent through. 
 
 And up Carhonie''s lull they flew ; 
 
 Still at the gallop pricked the knight, 
 
 His nierry-mou follownd as they might. 
 
 Along thy banks, sv.iil Teith I they ride, 
 
 And in the race thoy mock thy tide ; 
 
 Torry and Lendrlck now are past, 
 
 And Deanstono lies behind them cast. 
 
 They rise, the bannered towers of Doune, 
 
 They sink in distant woodland soon ; 
 
 Blair-Drummond sees the hoots strike fire, 
 
 They sweep like breeze through Ochtertyre ; 
 
 They mark, just glance, and disappear 
 
 The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; 
 
 They bathe their coursers' swelling sides, 
 
 Dark Forth! amid tiiy sluggish tides, 
 
 And on the opposing shore take ground. 
 
 With plash, with scramble, and with bound. 
 
 Right hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth ' 
 
 And soon tlie bulwark of the North, 
 
 Gray Stirling, with her towers and town. 
 
 Upon their fleet career looked down.
 
 Canto v' THE COIVIBAT. 119 
 
 XIX. 
 
 As up the flinty path they stramed, 
 
 Siidden his steed the leader reined ; 
 
 . 1 ^igiiui to his squire he flung-, 
 
 Who instant to his stirrup sprung : 
 
 " Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodman gray. 
 
 Who townward holds the rocky way, 
 
 Of stature tall and poor array.'* 
 
 Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride, 
 
 With which he scales tjie mountain side ? 
 
 Know'st thou from whence he comes, or whom?" — 
 
 •' No, by my word ; — a burly groom 
 
 He seems, v/ho in the field or chase 
 
 A baron's train would nobly grace." — 
 
 '• Out, out, De Vaux 1 can fear supply, 
 
 And jealousy, no sharper eye ? 
 
 Afar, ere to the liill 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 Serlc ! 
 
 The uncle of the banished Earl. 
 
 Away, away, to court, to show 
 
 The near approach of dreaded foe : 
 
 The king must stand upon his guard ; 
 
 Douglas and lie must meet prepared." — 
 
 Then right hand wheeled their steeds, and straight 
 
 They won the castle's postern gate. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Douglas, who had bent his way 
 
 ''rom Cambus-Kenneth's abbey gray, 
 1.^0 w, as he climbed the rocky shelf. 
 Held sad communion with himself : — 
 •' Yes ! all is true my fears could frame 
 A prisoner lies the noble Gramme, 
 And fiery Roderick soon will feel 
 The vengeance of the royal steel. 
 I, only I, can ward their fate, 
 God grant tho ransom come not late 1
 
 120 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 The abbess hath her promise given, 
 
 My child sliall be the bride of heaven ; — 
 
 Be pardoned one repining tear I 
 
 For he, who gave lier, knows liow dear 
 
 flow excellent — but that is by, 
 
 And now n:y business is to die. 
 
 — Ye towers I wilhin wb-ose circuit diead 
 
 A Douglas by his sovereign bled. 
 
 And thou, O sad and fatal mound I* 
 
 That oft liast heard tlie death a.\e sound. 
 
 As on the noblest of t'\e land 
 
 Fell the stern head-man's bloody hand, — 
 
 The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb 
 
 Prepare, for Douglas seeks iiis doom I 
 
 — But liark I what blithe and jolly peal 
 
 Makes the Franciscan steeple reel ? 
 
 And see I upon tbe crowded street. 
 
 In motley groups that masquers meet! 
 
 Banner and pageant, pipe and drum, 
 
 And merry morrice-dancers come. 
 
 I guess, by all this quaint array, 
 
 Tlie burghers liold their sports to day. 
 
 James will be there ; he loves such show. 
 
 Where the good yeoman bends his bow. 
 
 And the tough wrestler foils liis foe, 
 
 As well as where, in proud career, 
 
 The higli-born tiitcr shivers spear. 
 
 Fll follow to the Castle park. 
 
 And play my prize : King James shall mart, 
 
 If age has tamed these sinews stark, 
 
 Whose force so oft, in happier days, 
 
 Uis boyisii wonder loved to praise." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Castle gates were open Hung, 
 Tiie quivering drawbridge rocked and rung. 
 And echoed loud the flinty street 
 Beneath the coursers' clattering feet, 
 
 • An eminence on the northeast of the castle, whor-^^ Jtau 
 criminals were executed. Sec Note.
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT. I'^l 
 
 As slowly dov/n the steep descent 
 
 Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 
 
 While ail along the crowded way 
 
 Was jubilee and loud huzza. 
 
 And ever James was bending low, 
 
 To his white jennet's saddle bow, 
 
 Doffing liis cap to city dame, 
 
 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 sxre, 
 Commends each pageant's quaint attire, 
 Gives to tiie dancers thanks aloud, 
 And smiles and nods upon the crowd 
 Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, 
 "Long live the Common's King, King James?' 
 Behind the King thronged peer and knight. 
 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 nnght discern 
 Dark lowering brow and visage stern ; 
 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, 
 There thought upon their own gray tower, 
 Their waving woods, their feudal power. 
 And deemed themselves a shameful part 
 Of pageant which they cursed in heart. 
 
 xxn. 
 
 Vow, in the Castle-park drew out 
 Their checkered bands the joyous rout. 
 There morricers, with bell at heel. 
 And blade in hand, their mazes wheel ; 
 But chief, beside the buts, there stand 
 Bold Robin Hood and all his band. 
 Friar Tuck with quarter-staff and cowl. 
 Ok' Scathlocke with his surly scowl.
 
 .22 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 Maid Marian fair as ivory bone, 
 
 Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John ; 
 
 Their bugles challenge all that will, 
 
 In archery to prove their skill. 
 
 The Douglas bent a bow of might, — 
 
 Ills first shaft centred 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 
 
 A silver dart, the archers' stake ; 
 
 Fondly he watched, with watery eye, 
 
 Some answering glance of sympathy, — 
 
 No kind emotion made reply I 
 
 Indifferent, as to archer wight. 
 
 The Monarch gave the arrow bright. 
 
 xxin. 
 
 Now, clear the Ring I for, hand to hand, 
 The manly wrestlers take their stand. 
 Tsvo o'er the rest superior rose. 
 And proud demanded mighlier foes, 
 Nor called in vain ; for Douglas came. 
 — For life is Hugh of Larbert lame. 
 Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. 
 Whom senseless home his comrades bear. 
 Prize of the wrestling match, the King 
 To Douglas gave a golden ring. 
 While coldly glanced his eye of blue. 
 As frozen drop of wintry dew. 
 Douglas would speak, but in his breast 
 His striiijgling soul his words surprcss'd : 
 Indignant then he turned him where 
 Their arms the brawny yeoman bare, 
 To hurl the massive bar in air. 
 When each his utmost strength had shown, 
 The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone 
 From its deep bed, then heaved it high, 
 And sent the fragment through the sky, 
 A rood beyond the farthest mark : — 
 And still in SlirHng's royal park.
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT. 123 
 
 The gray-haired sires, who know the past. 
 To strangers point the Douglas cast, 
 And moraUzo on the decay 
 Of Scottish strength in modern day. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The vale with loud applauses rang, 
 The Ladies' Rock sent back the clang. 
 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 nov;, with anxious wonder, scan. 
 And sharper glance, the dark grey man ; 
 Till whispers rose among the throng, 
 That heart so free, and hand so strong, 
 Must to the Douglas blood belong : 
 The old men mark'd, and shook the head, 
 To see his hair with silver spread. 
 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, 
 Though wrecked by many a wintery stor 
 The youth with awe and wonder saw 
 His strength surpassing nature's law. 
 Thus judged, as is their wont, the crowd, 
 Till murmurs rose to clamours loud. 
 But 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 tliosc who, at the chase, 
 Once held his side the honoured place, 
 Begirt his board, and, in the field, 
 Found safety underneath his shield ; 
 For he, whom royal eyes disown. 
 When was his form to courtiers known**
 
 124 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The Monai 3h saw tlie gambols flag, 
 
 And bade let loose a gallant stag, 
 
 Whose pride, tlic holy day to crown, 
 
 Two favourite griy-hounds should pull down, 
 
 That venison free, and Eourdeaux wine, 
 
 Might 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. 
 
 She left the royal hounds midway. 
 
 And dashing on the antler'd prey ; 
 
 Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank, 
 
 And deep the flowing life-blood drank. 
 
 The King's stout huntsman saw the sport 
 
 By strange intruder broken short, 
 
 Came up, and with his leash unbound 
 
 In anger struck the noble hound. 
 
 — The Douglas had endured, that mom, 
 
 The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn, 
 
 And 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 ofl would Ellen, Lufra's neck. 
 
 In maiden glee, with garlands deck; 
 
 They where such play-mates, that with name 
 
 Of Lufra Ellen's image came. 
 
 His stifled wrath is brimming high, 
 
 In darkened brow and flashing eye ; 
 
 As waves before the bark divide, 
 
 I'he crowd gave way before iiis stride ; 
 
 Needs but a buffet and no more. 
 
 The groom lies senseless in his gore. 
 
 Such blow no other hand could deal, 
 
 Though gauntleted in glove of steel.
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT. 125 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Clamoured his comrades of the train, 
 
 And brandished swords and staves amain. 
 
 But stern the Baron's warning — " Back. I 
 
 Back on your hves, ye menial pack ! 
 
 Beware the Douglas. — Yes ! 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, 
 
 Nor craves thy grace but for his friends." 
 
 — ^" Thus is my clemency repaid, 
 
 Presumptuous Lord !" the Monarch said ; 
 
 " Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan. 
 
 Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man. 
 
 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 1 The Captain of our Guard ! 
 
 Give the offender fitting ward. — 
 
 Break off the sports !" — for tumult rose. 
 
 And yeomen 'gan to bend thsir bows, — ■ 
 
 "Break off the sports I" — ha eaid, and frowned. 
 
 "And bid our horsemen clear the ground " — 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Then uproar wild and misarray 
 
 Marr'd the fair form of festal day. 
 
 The horsemen pricked among the crowd. 
 
 Repelled by threats and insult loud ; 
 
 To earth are borne the old and weak. 
 
 The timorous fly, the women shriek ; 
 
 \Vith flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar, 
 
 Tlie hardier urge tumultuous war. 
 
 At once round Douglas darkly sweep 
 
 Tne royal spoars in circle deep, ♦ 
 
 And slowly scale the pathway steep ^ 
 
 While on their rear in thunder pour 
 
 The rabble with disordered roar.
 
 126 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 With grief the noble Douglas saw 
 The commons rise against the law, 
 And to the leading soldier said, — 
 " Sir John of Hyndford 1 'twas my blade. 
 That knighthood on thy shoulder laid ; 
 For that good deed, permit me then, 
 A word with these misguided men. — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 " Hear, gentle friends 1 ere yet, for me, 
 Ye break the bands of fealty. 
 My life, my honour, and my cause, 
 [ tender free to Scotland's laws ; 
 Arc these so weak as must require 
 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, 
 Tiiat, for mean vengeance on a foe. 
 Those chords of love I should unbind. 
 Which knit my country and my kind.^ 
 Oh no I Believe, in yonder tower 
 It will not sooth my captive hour, 
 To know those spears our foes should dread, 
 For me in kindred gore are red ; 
 To know in fruitless brawl begun. 
 For me, that mother wails her son ; 
 For me, that widcv-v^'s mate expires. 
 For me, that orphans weep their sires. 
 That patriots mourn insulted laws. 
 And curse the Douglas for the cause. 
 O let your patience ward such ill. 
 And keep your right to love me still l" — 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The crow'd's wild fury sunk agam 
 In tears, as tempests 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.
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT. VT 
 
 Old men, upon the verge of life, 
 
 Blessed him who stayed the civil strife ; 
 
 And mothers held their babes on high 
 
 The self-devoted chief to spy, 
 
 Triumphant over wrong and ire, 
 
 To whom the prattlers owed a sire : 
 
 Even the rough soldier's heart was moved. 
 
 As if behind some bier beloved, 
 
 With traihng arms and drooping head, 
 
 The Douglas up the hill they led, 
 
 And at the castle's battled verge. 
 
 With sighs, resio^ned their honoured charge. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The oftended monarch rode apart. 
 With bitter thought and swelling heart, 
 And would not now vouchsafe again 
 Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 
 " O Lennox, who would wish to rule 
 This changeling crowd, this common fool ! 
 Hear'st thou,'' he said, " the loud acclaim, 
 With which they shout the Douglas name ? 
 With like acclaim, the vulgar throat 
 Strained for King James their morning note; 
 With like acclaim they hail the day 
 When first I broke the Douglas sway ; 
 And like acclaim would Douglas greet, 
 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 ; 
 Fantastic as a woman's mood, 
 And fierce as frenzy's fevered blood. 
 Thou many-headed m.onster-thing 
 O who would wish o be thy king I — 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 '' Bu^ soft! what messenger of speed 
 Sp^, ^ hitherwaid his panting stcfcJ f
 
 128 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 1 ^ess his cognizance afar — 
 What from our cousin, John of Mar?" 
 " Ho prays my hegc, your sports keep bound 
 Within tlie safe and guarded ground : 
 For some foul purpose yet unknown, — 
 Most sure for evil to the throne, — 
 The outlawed Chieftain, R.odcrick Dbu, 
 Has summoned his rebellious crew ; 
 Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid 
 These loose banditti stand arrayed. 
 The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune, 
 To break their muster marched, and soon 
 Your grace will hear of battle fought; 
 But earnestly the Earl besought, 
 Till for such danger he provide, 
 With scanty train you will not ride." — 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 * Thou wam'st me I have done amiss, — 
 I should have earlier looked to tliis ; 
 I lost it in this bustling day. 
 — Retrace with speed thy former way ; 
 Spare not for spoiling of thy steed. 
 The best of mine shall be thy meed. 
 Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, 
 We do forbid the intended war; 
 Roderick this morn, in single fight. 
 Was made our prisoner by a knight. 
 And Douglas hath himself and cause 
 Submitted to our kingdom's laws. 
 The tidings of their leaders lost 
 Will soon dissolve the mountain host, 
 Nor would we that the vulgar feel. 
 For their Chief s crimes, avenging steel. 
 Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly." — 
 He turned his steed, — " My liege, I hie. 
 Yet, ere I cross this hly lawn, 
 I fear the broad-swords will be drawn-"— 
 The turf the flying courser spurned, 
 And to his towers the king returned.
 
 Canto V. THE COMBAT. 12& 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 ni with King James's mood that day, 
 Waited gay feast and minstrel lay; 
 Soon were disinissed the courtly throng, 
 And soon cut short the festal song. 
 Nor less upon the saddened town 
 The evening sunk in sorrow down : 
 The burghers spoke of civil jar, 
 Of rumoured feuds and mountain war. 
 Of Moray, Mar, an-d Roderick Dhu, 
 All up in arms : — ihe Douglas too, 
 They mourned him pent witJiin the hold, 
 "Where stout Earl William was of old,"* 
 And there his word the speaker stayed, 
 And finger on his lip he laid, 
 Or pointed to his dagger blade. 
 But jaded horseman from the west. 
 At evening to the castle pressed ; 
 And busy talkers said they bore 
 Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore } 
 At noon the deadly fray begun, 
 And lasted till the set of sun. 
 Thus giddy rumour shook the town. 
 Till closed the Night her pennons brown. 
 
 * Stabbed by James II. m Stirling Coeitle 
 
 El ID OP CANTO FIFTa
 
 THE 
 
 LA1>Y OF THS3 I.AM.E, 
 
 CANTO SIXTH^ 
 THE GUARD-ROOM. 
 
 1. 
 
 THE sun, awakening, through the smoky air 
 
 Of the dark city casts a sullen glance, 
 Rousing each caitiff to his task of care, 
 
 Of sinful man the sad inheritance ; 
 Summoning revellers from the lagging dance. 
 
 And scaring prowling robbers to their den ; 
 Gliding 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, and, O ! what scenes of wo. 
 Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam 
 
 The fevered patient, from his pallet low, 
 Through crowded hospitals beholds it stream ; 
 
 The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam, 
 
 The debtor wakes to thoughts of gyve and jail, 
 
 The love-lorn v/retch starts from tormenting dream*, 
 The walceful mother, by the glimmering pale, 
 Trims her sick infant's couch and sootlis his fee 
 blp Tvail. 
 
 n. 
 
 At dawn the towers of Stirling rang, 
 With soldier-step and weapon clang, 
 While drums, with rolling note, foretell 
 Relief to weary sentinel.
 
 132 L ADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 
 
 Through narrow loop and casement barr'd 
 The sunbeams soni^ht the Court of Guard, 
 And struggHng with the smoky air, 
 Deadened the torches' yellow glare. 
 In comfortless alhance shone 
 The lights through arch of blackened stone, 
 And showed wild shapes in garb of war. 
 Faces deformed with beard and scar, 
 All 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 cups overthrown. 
 Showed in what sport the night had flown. 
 Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ; 
 Some laboured still their tliirst to quench ; 
 Some chilled with watching, spread their hands 
 O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, 
 While round them, or beside them flung. 
 At every step their harness rung. 
 
 III. 
 
 These drew not for their fields the sword, 
 
 Like tenants of a feudal lord, 
 
 Nor owned the patriarchal claim 
 
 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 ; 
 
 The mountain-loving Switzer there 
 
 More freely breathed in mountain-air ; 
 
 l"he Fleming there despised the soil, 
 
 That paid so ill the labourer's toil; 
 
 The rolls showed French and German nanio. 
 
 And merry Euijland's exiles carne, 
 
 To share, \rit,li iU"<ioncealed disdain, 
 
 Of Scotia "id'? pay the scanty gain. 
 
 All bravo in arms, well trained to wielw 
 
 The heavy halbert, brand, and pbi«"-.'.
 
 Canto VI. THE GUARD- ROOM. 133 
 
 In camps licentious, wild and bo! J 
 In pillage fierce and uncontrolled . 
 And now, by holytide and feast, 
 From rules of discipUne released. 
 
 IV. 
 
 They held debate of bloody fray, 
 
 Fought twixt Loch-Katrine anS Achray. 
 
 Fierce was their speecli, and, mid their words. 
 
 Their hands oft grappled to their swords ; 
 
 N'or sunk their tone to spare the ear 
 
 Of wounded comrades groaning near, 
 
 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, 
 
 And savage oath by fury spoke ! — 
 
 At length up started John of Brent, 
 
 A yeoman from the banks of Trent ; 
 
 A stranger to respect or fear, 
 
 [n peace a chaser of the deer, 
 
 \n 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 dicers' brav/ling sport. 
 
 And shouted lend, ''R,enew the bowl I 
 
 And, while a merry catch I troll, 
 
 Let each the buxom chorus bear, 
 
 L.ko brcthen of the brand and spear." — 
 
 V. 
 SOLDIER'S SONG. 
 
 Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule 
 Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown 
 
 bowl, 
 That there's w^ath and despair in the jolly blaCiS 
 
 jack, 
 And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sacJi •
 
 134 LADY OF THE LAKE Canto VI. 
 
 Yet whoop, Barnaby ! off with Ihy liquor 1 
 Drink upseos* out, and a fig for tho vicar *. 
 
 Our vioar he 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 Gillian the quicker, 
 Till she bloom liko a rose, and a fig for the viear I 
 
 Our vicar thus preaches — and why should he not? 
 For the dues of liis cure are the placket and pot?. 
 And 'tis right of his offi'^e poor laymen to lurch. 
 Who infringe the domains of oiu* good mother 
 
 Church, 
 Yei whoop, bully-bo3's! off with your liquor. 
 Sweet Marjoric's the wora, and a fig for tht 
 
 vicar ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 The warder's challcn;ge, heard without, 
 
 Stayed in mid roar tlie merry shout. 
 
 A soldier to the portal went,— 
 
 ^' Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; 
 
 And, beat for jubilee your drum I 
 
 A maid and minstrel with him come." — ' 
 
 Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarr'd. 
 
 Was entering now the court of guard, 
 
 A harper with him, and, in plaid 
 
 All muffled close, a mountain maid. 
 
 Who backward shrank to 'scape the view 
 
 Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. 
 
 " What newsr" they roared : — "I only know. 
 
 From noon till eve we fought with foe. 
 
 As wild and as untameable. 
 
 As the rude mountains where thoy dwell. 
 
 On both sides store of blood is lost, 
 
 Sor inuf.h success can either boast." — 
 
 *\ fiacchr.ntJian hur r.oction, borrowed from the DulClJ
 
 Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 135 
 
 " But whence thy captives, fncnd ? Such spoil 
 As theirs must needs reward thy toil. 
 Old dost thou wax, and wars grove sharp ; 
 Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp, 
 Get thee an ape, and trudge the land, 
 The leader of a juggler band." — 
 
 VII. 
 
 " 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, 
 Mar bade I should purvey the'm 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 V cried John of Brent, 
 Ever to strife and jangling bent, — 
 " Shall he strike doe beside our lodge, 
 And yet the jealous niggard grudge 
 T":> pay the forester his fee ? 
 I'ii have my share howe'er it be, 
 Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee."' — 
 Bertram his forward step withstood; 
 And, burning in his vengeful mood. 
 Old Allen, though unfit for strife. 
 Laid hand upon his dagger-knife ; 
 But Ellen boldly stepped between, 
 And dropped at once the tartan screen; 
 So, from his morning cloud, appeal's 
 The sun of May, through summer tears. 
 The savage soldiery, amazed, 
 As on descended angel gazed ; 
 Even hardy Brent, abashed and tamed, 
 Stood half admiring, half ashamed. 
 
 vm. 
 
 Boldly she spoke : — " Soldiers, attend 
 Mjr father was the sc Idicr's friend ;
 
 136 LADY OF THE LAKL. Canto VL 
 
 Cheer'd him in camps, in marches led. 
 
 And with him in the battle bled. 
 
 Not from tlie valiant or the strong", 
 
 Should exile's dano-hter suffer K-Tong."- 
 
 Answcrcd De Bront. nio?t forward stUl 
 
 In every feat or good or ill — 
 
 " I shame tne of the part I played ; 
 
 And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid! 
 
 An out' aw I by Forest laws, 
 
 And merry Neodwood knows the cause. 
 
 Poor Rose, — if Rose be livino- now,'' — 
 
 He wiped his iron eye and brow, 
 
 "• Must bear such age, I think, as thou.— 
 
 Hear ye, my mates ; — I j^o to call 
 
 The captain cf our watch to hall : 
 
 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 I — 
 
 Beware loose speech, or jesting^ rough : 
 
 Ye all know John dc Brent. Enough." — 
 
 . IX. 
 
 Their captain came, a gallant young,--- 
 (Of Tullibardine's house he sprung:) 
 Nor wore he yet the spurs of kni<rht; 
 Gay was his mien, his humour licrht 
 And, though by courtesy controlled. 
 Forward his speech, liis bearing bold. 
 The hitrhbom maiden !".i could brook 
 The scanning of his curious look 
 And dauitlcss eye; — and yet, in sooth, 
 Younor Lewis was a sfcnerous youth ; 
 But Ellen's lo^'ely face and mien, 
 Ill-suited to the garb and scene, 
 Miijht lightly bear construction strange, 
 And give l(»f»se fancy scope to -an^e. 
 —"Welcome to Stirling tov.v;. , fair maid I 
 Come ye to seek a champion's aid.
 
 Canto -/I. THE GUARD-ROOM. 137 
 
 On pa?frey white, with harper hoar, 
 
 Like errant damosel of yore ? 
 
 Does thy high quest a kniglit require ? 
 
 Or may the venture suit a squire ?"' — 
 
 Her dark eye flash'd ; — she paused and sighed, 
 
 " O what liave I to do with pride ! — 
 
 — Through scenes of sorrow, shame, -djiU strife, 
 
 A supphant for a father's life, 
 
 I crave an audience of the King, 
 
 Behold, to back my suit, a ring, 
 
 The royal pledge of grateful claims. 
 
 Given by tne Monarch to Fitz-James." — 
 
 X. 
 
 The sigtiet rinw young Lewis took, 
 
 With deep respect and altered look ; 
 
 And said, — "• This ring our duties own; 
 
 And pardon, if, to worth unknown, 
 
 In semblance mean obscurely veiled, 
 
 Lady, in aught my folly failed. 
 
 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 ^ 
 
 Your best for service or array. 
 
 Permit I marshal you the way." — 
 
 But, ere she follov/ed, with the grace 
 
 And open bounty of her race. 
 
 She bade her slender purse be shared 
 
 Among the soldiers of tlie guard. 
 
 The rest with thanks their guerdon too» 
 
 But Brent with sly and awkward look, 
 
 On the reluctant maiden's liold 
 
 Forced bluntly back the proffered gold : 
 
 *'• Forgive a hauglity English heart, 
 
 And O forget its ruder parti 
 
 The vacant purse shall be my share, 
 
 Which in my barrat-cap Til bear.
 
 138 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI 
 
 Perchance, in jeopardy of war, 
 Where gayer crests jnay keep afar." — 
 With tiianks, — 'twas al) she could, — the maid 
 His rugged courtesy repaid. 
 
 XI. 
 When Ellen forth with Lewis went, 
 Allan made suit to John of Brent : — 
 "My lady safe, O let your j:race 
 Give me to see my master's face I 
 Plis minstrel 1, — to share his doom 
 Bound from tlic cradle to the tomb. 
 Tenth in descent, since first my sires 
 Waked for his noble house their lyres, 
 Nor one of all the race was known 
 But prized its weal above tiieir own. 
 With the Chief's birth begins our caro ; 
 Our harp must sooth the infant heir, 
 Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace 
 His earliest feat of field or chase ; 
 In peace, in war, our rank we keep. 
 We cheer his board, we sooth his sleep, 
 Nor leave him till we pour our verse, 
 A doleful tribute I o'er his hearse. 
 Then let me share his captive lot ; 
 It is my right — deny it not I" — 
 " Little we reck,'' said John of Brent, 
 "\Vp Southern men. o^ lonij descent 
 Nor wot we how a name — a word- 
 Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : 
 Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — 
 Tod bless the house of Beaudcsert . 
 And, but I loved to drive the deer. 
 More than to guide the labouring stecr» 
 I had not dwelt an outcast here. 
 Come, good old Minstrel, follow me; 
 Thy Lord and Chieftain shall thou see." 
 
 XIL 
 
 Then, from a rusted iron hook, 
 
 A bunch of ponderous keys he tcok,
 
 Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 139 
 
 Lighted a torch, and Allan led 
 
 Through grated arch and passage dread. 
 
 Portals they passed, where, deep within, 
 
 Spoke prisoner's moan, and fetters' din ; 
 
 Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored. 
 
 Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword, 
 
 And many a hideous engine grim. 
 
 For wrenching joint, and crushinc limb, 
 
 By artists formed, who deemed it shame 
 
 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 he backward rolled. 
 
 And made the bar unhasp its hold. 
 
 They entered : — 'twas a prison-room 
 
 Of stern security and gloom, 
 
 Yet not a dungeon ; for the day 
 
 Through lofiy gratings found its way, 
 
 And rude and antique garniture 
 
 Decked tlie sad walls and flirty floor. 
 
 " Here,"'' said De Brent, " thou may'st remain ;"— 
 
 And then, retiring, bolt and chain, 
 
 And rusty bar he drew again. 
 
 {loused at the sound, from lowly bed 
 
 A captive feebly raised his head ; 
 
 The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew 
 
 Xot his dear lord, but Roderick Dhu '. 
 
 For, come from where Clan-Alpine fought, 
 
 They, erring, deemed the Chief he sought. 
 
 XIIL 
 
 As the tall ship, whose lofty proro 
 Shall never stem the billows more. 
 Deserted by her gallant band, 
 Amid the brealicrs lies astrand, — 
 S.J, on his couch, lay Roderick Dh'^ ' 
 And oft his fevered hmbs he threw 
 In toss abrupt, as when her sides 
 Lie rockinir Ln the advancing tides.
 
 140 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI 
 
 That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, 
 
 Yet cannot heave her from her seat ; — 
 
 O ! how unUke her course on sea I 
 
 Or his free step on hill and lea 1 — 
 
 Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, 
 
 — '• What of thy lady? of my clan ? — 
 
 My mother r — Douglas ? — tell nie all I 
 
 Have they been ruined in my fall ? 
 
 Ah, yes ! or wlierefore art thou here? 
 
 Yet speak, — speak boldly. — do not fear.' — 
 
 (For Allan, who his mood well knew. 
 
 Was choked with grief and terror too.) — 
 
 " W1io 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 I" 
 
 " And liopes 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. 
 
 Thy stately pine is yet unbent. 
 
 Though many a goodly bough is rent." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Chieftain reared his form on high, 
 And fever's fire was in his eye ; 
 But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks 
 Checkered his swarthy brow and cheeks. 
 — " Hark, Minstrel 1 I have heard thee play. 
 With measure bold on festal day. 
 In yon lone isle, — again where ne'er 
 ShaU harper play, or warrior hear, — 
 That stirring air that peals on high, 
 O'er Dermids race our victory. — 
 Strike it ! — and then, (for well thou canst) 
 Free from tny minstrel-spirit glanced, 
 Fling me the p.cture of the fight. 
 When met m^^ clan the Sason might
 
 Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 141 
 
 ['II listen, till my fancy liears 
 
 The clanff of swords, the crash of spears! 
 
 These grates, these walls, shall vanish tlien. 
 
 For the fair field of fiyhting men. 
 
 And my free spirit burst away, 
 
 As if it soared from battle fray." 
 
 The trembliritT bard with awe obeyed,— 
 
 Slow on the harp his liand he laid ; 
 
 But soon remembrance of the sight 
 
 He witnessed from the mountainV; heiglit, 
 
 With what old Bertram told at night. 
 
 Awakened t}\e full power of song. 
 
 And bore him in career along : — 
 
 As shallop launched on river's tide, 
 
 That slow and fearful leaves the side, 
 
 But, when it feels the middle stream. 
 
 Drives downward swift as lightnmg's beair 
 
 XV. 
 y BATTLE OF BEAL' AN DUINE 
 
 " The Minstrel came once more to view 
 The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 
 For, ere he parted, he would say 
 Farewell to lovely Loch-Achray — 
 Where shaU he find, in foreign land, 
 So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! 
 - There is no breeze upon the fern, 
 No ripple on the lake, 
 Upon her eyrie nods the erne, 
 
 The deer has sought the brake; 
 The small birds will not sing aloud, 
 
 The springing trout lies still. 
 So darkly glooms yon thunder cloud. 
 That swathes, as with a purple shroud 
 
 Benledi's distant hill, 
 [s it the thunder's solemn sound 
 That mutters deep and dread, 
 Or echoes from the groaning ground 
 The warrior's measured troad '*
 
 142 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VL 
 
 Is it the lightning's quivering glance 
 
 That on the tliicket streams, 
 Or do they flash on spear and lance 
 The sun's retiring beams? 
 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, 
 
 Or bard of martial lay, 
 *Twere worth ten years of peaceful life. 
 One glance at tiieir array. 
 
 ^^ XVI. 
 
 "Their light-armed archers far and near 
 
 Surveyed the tangled ground, 
 Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, 
 
 A twilight forest frowned ; 
 Their barbed horsemen, in the rear, 
 
 The stem battalia crowned. 
 No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang. 
 
 Still were the pipe and drum ; 
 Save heavy tread, and armour's clang, 
 
 The sullen march was dumb. 
 There breathed no wind tiieir crests to shake. 
 
 Or wave th^^ir flags abroad ; 
 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. 
 
 Save wlien 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 gair 
 A narrow and a broken plain, 
 Before the Trosach's rucfged jaws; 
 And here the horse and spear-man pause.
 
 Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM 143 
 
 While, to explore the dangerous glen, 
 Dive through the pass the archer-men. 
 
 xvn. 
 
 " At once there rose so wild a yell 
 Within that dark and narrow dell, 
 As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, 
 Had peeled the banner-cry of hell ! 
 
 Forth from the pass in tumult driven, 
 
 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, . 
 And broadswords flashing to the sky, 
 
 Are maddening in their rear. 
 Onward they drive, in dreadful race, 
 
 Pursuers ana pursued ; 
 Before that tide of flight and chase. 
 How shall it keep its rooted place, 
 
 The spearsmen's twilight wood? 
 — ' Down, down,' cried Mar, ' your lances down I 
 
 Bear back both friend and foe I' 
 Like reeds before the tempest's frown. 
 That serried grove of lances brown 
 
 At once lay levelled low ; 
 And closely shouldering side to side, 
 The bristling ranks the onset bide. — 
 — ' We'll quell the savage mountaineer. 
 
 As their Tinchel* cows the game ! 
 Tliey come as fleet as forest deer, 
 
 We'll drive them back as tame.' ~ 
 
 xvin. 
 
 •'Bearing before them, in their course, 
 The relics of the archer force, 
 
 *A circle of sportsmen, who by surrounding a great space, 
 and gradually narrowing, brought immense quantities of 
 deer together, wbicli usuaUy made desperate effortfi U> 
 Veak tiiroaRh the Tinchel
 
 144 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V: 
 
 Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, 
 Right onward did Clan-Alpine c»>ine. 
 
 Above their tide, each broadsword bria;li» 
 Was brandishing like beam of light, 
 Each targe was dark below ; 
 
 And with tiie ocean's mighty swing, 
 
 When heaving to the tempest's wing. 
 They hurled tiieni on the foe. 
 ]hcard t'le lanee's shivering r.rash, 
 As when the wliirlwind rends the ash ; 
 I heard the broadsword's deadly clang, 
 As if a liundrcd anvils rang I 
 But Moray wheeled his rearward rank 
 Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine's flank, — 
 
 — ' JMy banner-man, advance ! 
 I see,' he cried, ' their column shake : — 
 Now. gallants ! for your ladies' sake, 
 
 Upon them with the lance 1' — 
 Tlie horsemen dashed among the route ; 
 
 As deer break t!irough the broom; 
 Their steeds arc stout, tiieir swords are out 
 
 They soon make lightsome room. 
 Clan-Alpine's best are backward bornc- 
 
 Where, where, was Roderick then.' 
 One blast upon his bugle-horn 
 
 Wore worth a thousand men. 
 And refluent tlirough the pass of fear 
 
 The battle's tide was pour'd ; 
 Vanished the Saxon's struggling spear. 
 
 Vanished the mountain sword. 
 As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and stfct>jj, 
 
 Receives her roaring linn, 
 As the dark caverns of tlie deep 
 
 Suck the wild whirlpool in. 
 So did the deep and darksome pass 
 Devour the battle's minL'"led mass, 
 None linger now upon the plain. 
 Save those vvlio ne'er .shall fiirht asrain
 
 Canto VI. THP: GUARD ROOM. i4i 
 
 / 
 
 ♦* No .V westward rolls the batv e s din,' 
 That deep aiid doubling pass with'Ji. 
 Minstrel, away I the work of iato 
 Is bearing on : its issue wait, 
 Where the rude Trosacii's dread defile 
 Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. 
 Gray Benvenue 1 soon repassed, 
 Loch-Katrine lay beneath me cast. 
 The sun is set : — the clouds are me*- 
 
 The lowering scowi oi nedvcn 
 An inky hue oi' livid blue 
 
 To the deep lake has given ; 
 Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen 
 Swept o'er the lake, then sunk agon. 
 I lieeded not the eddying surge. 
 Mine eye but saw the Trosach's gorge, 
 Mine ear but heard that sullen sound, 
 Whicli like an earthquake shook the grouniS. 
 And spoke the stem and desperate strife 
 That parts not but with parting life 
 Seeming, to minstrel-ear, to toll 
 The dirge of many a passing soil. 
 Nearer it comes — the dim-wood gler. 
 The martial flood disgorged agen, 
 
 But not in mingled tide ; 
 The plaided warriors of ihe North, 
 High on the mountain thunder forth. 
 
 And overhang its side ; 
 While by the lake below appears 
 The iarkening cloud of Saxon spears. 
 At weary bay each shattered band, 
 Kying their foeman, sternly stand; 
 Their banners stream like shattered »aj'.. 
 That flings its fragments to the gale. 
 And broken arms and disarray 
 Marked the fell havoc of the div'> 
 K
 
 146 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Viewing the mountain's ridge askance. 
 The Saxons stood in sullen trance, 
 Till Moray pointed with his lance, 
 
 And cried — ' Behold yon isle I — 
 See ! none are lefl to guard its strand. 
 But women weak, that wring the hand ; 
 'Tis there of yore the robber band 
 
 Their booty wont to pile; 
 My purse, with bonnet-pieces store, 
 To him will swim a bow-sliot o'er. 
 And loose a shallop from the sliore. 
 Lightly we lame the war-wolf then, 
 Lords of his mate, and brood, and den.' — 
 Forth from the ranks a spearman sprung. 
 On earth his casque and corslet rung. 
 He plunged him in the wave : — 
 All saw the deed — the purpose knew. 
 And to their clamours lienvenue 
 
 A mingled echo gave ; 
 The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer. 
 The helpless females scream for fear, 
 And yells for rage the mountaineer. 
 'Twas then, as by the outcry riven, 
 Poured down at once the lowering heav.n -. 
 A whirlwind swept Loch-Katrine's brcasl. 
 Her billow reared his snowy crest. 
 Well for the swimmer swelled it high. 
 To mar the highland marksman's eye; 
 For round him showered, mid rain and bail 
 The vengeful arrows of the Gael. — 
 In vain. — He nears the isle — and lol 
 His hand is on a shallops bow. 
 — Just then a flash of lightning came. 
 It tinired the waves and strand with fliime^- 
 I marked Dunccaggan's widowed danit:^. 
 Behind an oak I saw her stand. 
 Her husband's dirk gleamed in her hand- 
 It darkened — but amid the moan 
 Of wavBB, I heard a dy\r,g groan ;-
 
 Canto VI, THE GUARD-ROOM. U? 
 
 Another flash ! — the spearman floats 
 A weltering corse beside the boats. 
 And the stern Matron o'er him stood, 
 Her hand and dagger sti ■'arniiig blood.- 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " Revenge ! revenge f the Saxons cried 
 Tiie GaePs exulting shout rcpUed, 
 Despite the elemental rage, 
 Again they hurried to engage ; 
 But, ere tiiey clos'd in desperate fight. 
 Bloody witli spurring camo a knight. 
 Sprung from his hoise, and from a crag. 
 Waved 'tvvixt the hosts a milk-white lltigj,.- 
 Clarion and trumpet by his side 
 Rung forth a truce-note high and wide. 
 While, in the monarch "s natne, afar 
 A herald's voice forbade the war; 
 For Bolhwell's lord, and Roderick bold. 
 Were both, he said, in captive hold." — 
 But here the lay made sudden stand, 
 Tlie harp escaped the minstrel's hand ! 
 Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 
 How Roderick brooked liis muistrelsy : 
 At first, the Chieftain, to the chime, 
 With lifted hand, kept feeble tune; 
 Tiiat motion ceased — yet feeling strong, 
 /aried his look as changed the song; 
 At length, no more his deafened car 
 Tlie minstrel melody can hoar; 
 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. 
 Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew 
 His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhul 
 Old Allan-bane looked on aghast, 
 While grim and still his spirit passed; 
 But when he saw that life was fled, 
 ile Doured his wailing o'er the dead.
 
 14b LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI 
 
 XXII. 
 
 LAMENT. 
 
 " An<i art thou cold, and lowly laid, 
 Thy foeman's dread, thy people's aid, 
 Brcadalbane's boasl., Cian-Ai jump's siiade! 
 For thee shall none a requieni say? — 
 For thee, who loved the niinstjors lay. 
 For thee, of BollnvclTs house the slay. 
 The shelter of her exiled lino. — 
 E'en in this prison-house of ihine, 
 ril wail for Alpine's honoured pinol 
 
 ""What ^oans shall yonder valleys fill ! 
 What shrHikS of grief shall rend yon hill! 
 What tears of burning rage siiall thrill, 
 Wiion mourns thy tribe thy battles done. 
 Thy fall before the race was won, 
 Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun I 
 There breathes not clansman of thy lino. 
 But would have i,'-iven his lifo for thine. — 
 O wo for Alpine's honoured pine I 
 
 •' Sad was thy lot on mortal siage I — 
 The ca[>tivc thrush may brook the cage. 
 Tile prisoner eagle dies for rage. 
 Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain! 
 And when its notes awake again. 
 Even she, so long beloved in vain, 
 Sliall with my harp her voice coii»l)me. 
 And mix her wo and tears with tnu.u. 
 To wail Clan- Alpine's honoured pine." — 
 
 / XXIIl. 
 
 Ellen, the while, with bursting heart. 
 
 Remained m lordly bower apart. 
 
 Where played, wilh many-coloured irl -viinii. 
 
 Through storied pane the rising beam*. 
 
 In vain on gilded roof they fall. 
 
 And lightened up a tajKistried '>v.-»Jl.
 
 Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 149 
 
 And for her usp a menial train, 
 
 A rich colialion spread in vain. 
 
 The banquet proud, the chamber gay, 
 
 Scarce drew one curious glance astray ; 
 
 Or if slie looked, 'twas but to say, 
 
 With better omen dawu'd the day 
 
 In that lone isle, uiiure waved on high 
 
 The dun deer liidf; for canopy, 
 
 Where oft her noble father sliared 
 
 Tiie simple meal her care prepared, 
 
 While Lufra, crouclfinir by her side, 
 
 Her station claimed witii jealous pride. 
 
 And Douglas, bent on woodland game. 
 
 Spoke of tlie chase to Malcohii-Grsenie, 
 
 Whose answer, oft at random made, 
 
 '^'.. wandering of his thoughts betrayed — 
 
 Those who such simple joys iiave known. 
 
 Are taught to prize them when they're gone. 
 
 But sudden, see, she lifts her iicad 1 
 
 The window peeks with cautious tread. 
 
 What distant music iias the jiower 
 
 To win her in this woful liourl 
 
 'Tvvas from a turret that o'erhung 
 
 Her latticed bower, tiie strain was sung. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 LAY OF THE LMPRISOxXED 111.7 '"^^M.-.-N 
 
 My hawk is tired of perch and hood. 
 My idle greyhound loathes his food. 
 My horse is weary of his stall. 
 And I am sick of captive thrall. 
 I wish 1 were as I have been, 
 Hunting the hart in I'oresls green : 
 With bended bow and blood-iiound fref 
 For that's the life is meet for me. 
 
 I hate to learn the ebb of time 
 From yon dull steeple's drowsy chinie ; 
 Or mark it as tlie sunbeams crawl. 
 Inch after inch along; th^ wall.
 
 150 LADY G? THE LAKE. Canto VI 
 
 The lark was wont my matins ring, 
 Tlie sablf rook fny vespers siiiii ; 
 Thoi^c towers, ailiioiirli a kind's they be. 
 Have not a hall of ^ov for me. 
 
 No more at dawninir mora f rise. 
 And Sim myself in Ellon's eyes. 
 Drive the ncet dfer the fo<'estth:ougli. 
 And homeward wend with tflfei'.inif dew ; 
 A blilhsome welcomb hlitheW'mect. 
 And lay my tropiiies at her tVet. 
 While fled the eve on winir nf ^rlec — 
 Tiiat life is lo.st to love ai.d me I 
 
 The li-ii t-siiM< lay was hardly .said, 
 The list'ncr had nut turned her head, 
 It trickled still, the starting tear, 
 When light a footstep struck her ear. 
 And Snowdotm's graceful knight was tH^ai 
 Slie turned the hastier, lest again 
 The prisoner should renew his strain. 
 •' O welcome, brave Fitz-.lames I" siie s&id ; 
 '' How may an almost orphan maid 
 Pay the deep debt." — '' O say not so; 
 To me no gratitude you owe. 
 Not mine, alas I the boon to give, 
 And bid thy noble father live ; 
 I can but be thy 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, Cornel — "tis more than tirne, 
 He holds his court at morning prime.'— 
 With beating heart, and bosom wrung. 
 As to a brother's arm she clung. 
 (TCiitly he dried the falling tear. 
 And ijenlly whispered hope and chei'r 
 Her faltering steps half led, half sta(t.'d, 
 TJ!rr«iigh gallery fair and hicrh arcade.
 
 Canto Vl. THE GUARD-ROOM. 15J 
 
 Till, at his touch, its winns of pride 
 A portal arch unfolded wide. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Within 'twas biiUiant all and light, 
 . A thronging' scene of figures bright: 
 It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight, 
 As when the setting sun has given 
 Ten thousand hues to summer even, 
 And from their tissue fancy frames 
 Aerial knigiils and fairy dames. 
 Still by Fitz-Jamcs her looting stayed , 
 A few faint steps she i'ur-.vard made. 
 Then slow her drooping head she raised, 
 And fearful round the presence o-azed ; 
 For him she sought, who owned this state. 
 The dreaded prince whose will was fate I— 
 She gazed on many a princely port. 
 Might well have ruled a royal court; 
 On many a splendid garb she gazed. — 
 Then turned bewildered and amazed. 
 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 ; 
 Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen, 
 He stood, in simple Lincoln green. 
 The centre of the glittering ring, — 
 And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's Kin^ 
 
 L^ XXVII. 
 
 As wreath of snow on mountain breast. 
 
 Slides from the rock that gave it rest. 
 
 Poor Ellen glided from her stay. 
 
 And at the Monarch's feet she lay ; 
 
 No word her choking voice commands, — 
 
 She sliowed the ring, — she clasped ijer ha .;.>. 
 
 OI not a moment could he brook. 
 
 The generous prince, that suppliant look.'
 
 152 LADY or THE LAKE. Covtn vi 
 
 Geiitiy Ije raised her, — and the while 
 
 Chocked witJi a (fiance the circle's smile; 
 
 Grarc'ul, but grave, lier brow ho kissed. 
 
 And bade her terrors be liijinissed ; — 
 
 ** Ves, Fair; the wandering ]■,'., ot Filz-.lainf,.- 
 
 The fealty of Scotland claiiji -. 
 
 To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring, 
 
 He will redeem his signet ring. 
 
 Ask nought for Douglas ; — yeeter oven, 
 
 His prince and he have nmch furgiv(m : 
 
 Wrong hath he had from s!:Lii(!t.ruuf tongue. 
 
 I. from liis rebel kinsmen, wrong. 
 
 We would not to the vulvar crowd 
 
 Yield wliat they craved with clamour loud . 
 
 Ca'; I. ! : judged his cause. 
 
 Our ! our laws. 
 
 Isniii,.,,,w Lu\ 1..1U11-S dealh-feud stern, 
 
 \N ith stout De \ y.ux and gray Giemairn ; 
 
 And Bolhwell's Lflrd liencerMiih we own 
 
 The friend and bulwark of nur Tiirone. 
 
 But. lovely infidel, how now f 
 
 Wliat clouds thy inislioiieving brow? 
 
 Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid ; 
 
 Thou must confirm lliis doubting maid." 
 
 XXVIIL 
 
 Then forth the noble Douglas sprung. 
 And on his neck his daughter hung. 
 The Monarch drank, that :ia|)py hour. 
 The sweetest, lioliest draught of power,— 
 When it can say, with godlike voice, 
 Arise, sad virtue, and rejoice I 
 Vet would not James the general eye 
 On nature's raptures long should pry ; 
 He stepped between — " Nay, Douglas, nay. 
 ivteal not my proselyte away I 
 The riddle 'tis my right to read. 
 That brought this happy ciiance to speed ■— 
 Yes, Ellen, when disguised 1 stray. 
 Id lifos more low but haf»pier way.
 
 Canto VL- THE GUARD-ROOM. r^2 
 
 'Tis uTider name which veils my power. 
 
 Nor falsely veils — for Stirlino-'s lower 
 
 Of yore the name of SnowJoun claims. 
 
 And Normans call me James Fitz-Jarn"«. 
 
 Tims walcii I o'er insulledlawa, 
 
 Thus learn to right tlje injured cause 1" — 
 
 Tlion in a tone apart and low, 
 
 — " Ah. little traitVessI none must know 
 
 What idle dream, what lighter thougi't. 
 
 What vanity full dearly bought, 
 
 Joined to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drew 
 
 My spell-bound steps to Bonvenue 
 
 In dangerous hour, and all but j^ave 
 
 Thy Aionarcirs life to mountain glaivo I""— 
 
 Aloud he spoke — '" Thou slili dost hold 
 
 That little talisman of gold. 
 
 Pledge of my faith, Fitz-.limes's ring — 
 
 What seeks Fair Ellen of the King i*" 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Full well the conscious maiden iruessed. 
 
 He probed the weakness of her breast; 
 
 But, with that consciousnc'^s. there came 
 
 A liu-htening of her fears for GrfEtne, 
 
 And more she deemed the Monarch's iro 
 
 Ilindled 'gainst him, who, for her sire, 
 
 R,eI)ellious broadsword boldly drew ; 
 
 And to her generous feeling true. 
 
 She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu. — 
 
 "Forbear thy suit: — the King of kings 
 
 Alone can stay life's parting wings. 
 
 1 know his heart, I know hi'- hand. 
 
 Have shared his cheer, and proved liis brand :- 
 
 My fairest earldom would 1 give 
 
 To hid Clan-Alpine's Chieflam live: 
 
 Hast thou no other boon to crave.-' 
 
 No other captive friend to save.-'" — 
 
 RJushing she turned her from the King, 
 
 A.'jd to the Douglas gave the ring.
 
 154 x.AI)Y OF THE LAKE. Canic VI 
 
 As if she wishod lier sire to speak 
 The suit that sunned her srlowiuir ciie:k. — 
 "Nay. Lljeii. my i/.td.'-.' lias lost iLs force, 
 And stubborn justice h .!> iier courst-. 
 Malcolm, come forth I" — And. ai Uie word. 
 
 )own kneel'd the Grajmc i ■ ;> oiland's iiW d. 
 
 • For thee, ra^^h youth, no .su^^ lant t:..e.-. 
 from thee may Veiiw'eance claim her div.^, 
 Vvho, nurtured underneath our smile. 
 Has paid our care by ircachrroas wit*. 
 Andsou£rhl, amid tiiy faith:":, can, 
 A refuiie for an outiuwod iim, 
 Dishonoiiriny thus thy I'>yu. name. — 
 Fetters and warder foi i;io Grcemc I" — 
 
 The lii^^^^Alalcoim s neck he tiung, 
 Then jrenlly drew the ghttering band, 
 A.nd laid the ciai^p on Ellen's hand. 
 
 HARP of the Nortli, Farewell ! Th- lulls triov* 
 dark. 
 
 On purple peaks a deeper shade descendnii: ; 
 'n twilight copse liie glow-worm lights her spark 
 
 Tile deer, half->een, are to the co\ert wendin^r. 
 Resume thy wizard elm I the fountain lending. 
 
 And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; 
 T/A' numbers sweet with Nature's vespers blending 
 
 ^Vith distant echo from the fold and lea, 
 Ai^d herd:)oy's evenii: j pipe, and hum of housing 
 bee. 
 
 Yfl , once ajrain, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp ! 
 
 /et, once again, forgive my feeble sway. 
 And little reck I of the censure sharp 
 
 May idly cavil at an idle lay. 
 Much have I owt^-d thy strains on life's long .tv - 
 
 '^b"-"'!!.!! <^r-\;'i wors the wtirld has never kmi"'
 
 <:ario vl. t'ilK (TUAkD-Kifur-:!. ii^ 
 
 When ..n tho weary night dawiicti wearier day. 
 
 And bitterer was tlie gnei' devourecj aione. 
 That 1 o'eriive such woos, Enchantress '. is lii.t;. 
 own. 
 
 Hark! as my ling-ering footstep? slow retire. 
 
 Some spirit oi" ilio Air has waked thy slriijg^ 
 *Tis now a Serap i i)old, with toucli of fire. 
 
 'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. 
 Receding now. the dyiny numbers rin^' 
 
 Fainter and fainter down the ruiiijied dell. 
 And now the mountain breezes scarcely brintj 
 
 A wanderinir wit'^h-nr.i.; of tiie (Ustant speh— 
 And now. 'tis silent all 1 — Enchantres.^, faro i^e* 
 
 /.m.^ k «j ».Tos» 
 
 -7
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
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