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'SIR WALTER SCOTT'S 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 Edited (with Introduction and Notes) 
 
 BY* 
 
 JAMES ARTHUR TUFTS, 
 
 ODLIN professor of ENGLISH IN THE PHILLIPS EXETER ACADEMY 
 
 " / am sensible that if there be anything good about my poetry or prose either, 
 it is a hurried frankness of composition, -which pleases soldiers, sailors, and young 
 people of bold and active dispositions.^^ — Scott. 
 
 
 LEACH, SHEWELL, & SANBORN, 
 
 BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO. 
 
 r- 
 

 ■^\i 
 
 Copyright, 1895, 
 By Leach, She well, & Sanborn. 
 
 ELECTBOTYrED BY C J. PETERS & SON. 
 
 Press of Berwick & Smith. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The text of this edition follows closely that of the 
 Edinburgh edition of 1821 ; but in a few places the read- 
 ing of the eclitio prmceps (1810) is given, both of which 
 I found in the Harvard College Library. 
 
 The notes are such as I have found useful in my 
 classes of various ages. Some of them will be unneces- 
 sary for the more advanced pupils ; but all, I trust, will 
 be found useful to one class or another. 
 
 I have defined the less common words for the sake of 
 the younger pupils, who would hardly be expected to 
 use a dictionary. The more advanced pupils, however, 
 should be encouraged to use a dictionary, in order to 
 find both the delicate shades of meaning, and also the 
 etymology of many words. 
 
 I have tried to bring together in the Introduction in- 
 teresting facts and opinions found in no other edition of 
 this poem. 
 
 When The Lady of the Lake first appeared, Jeffrey 
 said of it, in the Edinburgh Revieiv^ ^^We are of opin- 
 ion that it will be oftener read hereafter than either 
 of them \_The Lay of the Last Minstrel and Marmion'], 
 ... It is more polished in its diction, and more reg- 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 ular in its versification ; the story is constructed with 
 infinitely more skill and address ; there is a greater pro- 
 portion of pleasing and tender passages, with much less 
 antiquarian detail ; and, upon the whole, a larger variety 
 of characters, more artfully and judiciously contrasted. 
 There is nothing so fine, perhaps, as the battle in 3Iar- 
 mion, or so picturesque as some of the scattered sketches 
 in the Lay ; but there is a richness and a spirit in the 
 whole piece which does not pervade either of those 
 poems, — a profusion of incident and a shifting bril- 
 liancy of coloring that remind us of the witchery of 
 Ariosto, and a constant elasticity and occasional energy 
 which seem to belong more peculiarly to the author now 
 before us.'' 
 
 Scott himself thought that the interest of The Lay 
 of the Last Minstrel depended mainly upon the style, 
 that of Marmion upon the descriptions, and that of The 
 Lady of the Lake upon the incidents. 
 
 J. A. T. 
 
 The Phillips Exeter Academy, 
 
 June, 1895. 
 
BOOKS OF EEFERElSrCE. 
 
 LocKHART's Life of Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 HuTTON's Life of Sir Walter Scott. ) 
 
 > Unci/ clop 85(1 la Britannica. 
 MiNTO's Life of Sir Walter Scott. ) 
 
 Jeffrey's Contributions to the Edinburgh Bevlew. 
 
 Leslie Stephen's Hours in a Library (First Series). 
 
 Essays by Carlyle, Hazlitt, Douglas Jerrold, and W. PI. Prescott. 
 
 Mrs. Oliphant's Literary History of England in the Eighteenth and 
 
 Nineteenth Centuries. 
 
 Hunnewell's Lands of Scott. 
 
 Howitt's Homes and Hau7its of the British Poets. 
 
 Washington Irving' s ViMt to Abbotsford. 
 
 C. R. Leslie's Autobiographical BecoUections. 
 
 Wordsworth's Yarrow Bevisited. 
 
 RusKiN's Modern Painters, vol. iii. 
 
 Bagehot's Literary Studies, vol. ii. 
 
 Hogg's Familiar Anecdotes. 
 
 Jerdan's Men I Have Known. 
 
 Phillips's Popular Manual of English Literature. 
 
 Pancoast's Bepresentative English Literature. 
 
 Painter's Introduction to English Literature. 
 
 Parsons's English Versification. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preface iii 
 
 Books of Keference v 
 
 Introductiois^ 1 
 
 Life 1 
 
 Personal Appearance 3 
 
 Daily Habits 4 
 
 Writings 4 
 
 Scott as a Poet 6 
 
 Scott as a Man . 7 
 
 Friends and Contemporaries 9 
 
 The Lady of the Lake 13 
 
 Notes 219 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 LIFE.i 
 
 Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh, Aug. 15, 1771. 
 His father, also, named Walter, was an attorney of high rank, 
 and his mother was Anne Rutherford, daughter of Dr. Ruth- 
 erford, a distinguished professor and physician of Edinburgh. 
 "My birth," says Scott, "was neither distinguished nor sor- 
 did. According to the prejudices of my country, it was es- 
 teemed gentle, as I was connected, though remotely, with 
 ancient families both by my father's and mother's side. My 
 father's grandfather was Walter Scott, well known by the 
 name of Beardie. He was the second son of Walter Scott, 
 first laird of Raeburn, who was third son of Sir Walter Scott, 
 and the grandson of Walter Scott, commonly called in tradi- 
 tion Auld Watt of Harden. I am therefore lineally descended 
 from that ancient chieftain, whose name I have made to ring 
 in many a ditty, and from his fair dame, the Flower of Yar- 
 row, — no bad genealogy for a Border Minstrel." — See Lock- 
 hart's Life of Scott, vol. i. ch. i. 
 
 He was the ninth child ; the first six died very young. 
 
 " His father was conspicuous for methodical and thorough 
 industry; his mother was a woman of imagination and cul- 
 ture. The son seems to have inherited the best qualities of 
 the one, and acquired the best qualities of the other." — Wm. 
 Minto, Encyclopcedia Britannica. 
 
 ^ For full account see Books of Reference, p. 11. 
 1 
 
2 INTIiOBUCTION. 
 
 Of delicate health, and lame from his second year, Scott 
 spent much of his childhood in the country at Sandy Knowe. 
 At the firesides of the country people, listening to old ballads 
 and stories of Border warfare, he early acquired a taste for 
 reading, and laid the foundations of his deep store of knowl- 
 edge. In 1778 he entered the high school of Edinburgh, and 
 remained about five years. He also had a private tutor. He 
 entered the University of Edinburgh at the age of thirteen. 
 In 1785, his health having somewhat improved, he decided 
 on the profession of law. In 1792 he was admitted to the 
 bar. He did not like his profession, however, and spent 
 much of his time in indulging his antiquarian tastes. In 
 1797 he married Charlotte Margaret Carpenter, the daughter 
 of a French Royalist, whose family, after the death of the 
 father, had removed to England. They lived first at Edin- 
 burgh ; and in 1798 he hired a cottage at Lasswade, where they 
 lived till they removed to Ashestiel, in 1804. In 1799 he was 
 made sheriff depute of Selkirkshire, with a salary of £300, 
 arid in 1806 a clerk of session. He received £1,600 a year 
 from the two offices. This income, continued through twenty- 
 five years, enabled him to make of literature '' a staff and not 
 a crutch." In 1811 he was able to purchase Abbotsford. In 
 1825' came the failure of Ballantyne and Company, publishers, 
 with whom Scott was a partner. He gave up Abbotsford, 
 and, refusing to take advantage of the bankrupt law, said to 
 his creditors : " Gentlemen, time and I against any two. Let 
 me take this good ally into company, and I believe I shall be 
 able to pay you every farthing." From this time till his 
 death he wrote with extraordinary rapidity. Ten novels in 
 six years ! In three years he earned for his creditors about 
 £40,000 ; ^nd if his health had not failed, probably he would 
 have paid the whole debt. In 1830 he had a stroke of par- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 alysis so severe that his physicians recommended a trip to 
 Italy. In a frigate placed at his disposal by the government, 
 he set sail for ISTaples in the autumn of 1831. He visited 
 Rome, Venice, and other places of interest, and in the follow- 
 ing April started home to die. He died at Abbotsford, Sept. 
 21, 1831. 
 
 PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 
 
 " When I last wrote I was about to be introduced to Sir 
 Walter Scott. He quite answered all my expectations of him, 
 and you may suppose they were very high. His manners are 
 those of an amiable and unaffected man and a polished gen- 
 tleman ; and his conversation is something higher, for it is 
 often quite as amusing and interesting as his novels, and 
 without any apparent attempt at display. It flows from him 
 in the most easy and natural manner. . . . He is tall and 
 well-formed, excepting one of his ankles and foot (I think the 
 right), which is crippled, and makes him walk very lamely. 
 He is neither fat nor thin. His face is perfectly Scotch.; and 
 though some people think it heavy, it struck me as a very 
 agreeable one. He never could have been handsome. His 
 forehead is very high, his nose short, his upper lip long, and 
 the lower part of his face fleshy. His complexion is fresh 
 and clear, his eyes very blue, shrewd, and penetrating. I 
 should say the predominant expression of his face is that of 
 strong sense. His hair, which has always been very light (as 
 well as his eyebrows and eyelashes), is now of a silvery white- 
 ness, which makes him look somewhat older than he really is 
 (I believe forty-six is his age)." — C. K. Leslie: Letter to 
 Miss Leslie, June 28, 1820. 
 
 *' He was not quite forty-eight years old, tall and striking 
 in his figure — full six feet in height, I think — stout and 
 
4 INTROBUCTION. 
 
 well-made. From the malconformation of one of his feet he 
 stooped a little — at least that seemed to me the reason why 
 he was somewhat prematurely bent ; and his features bore the 
 marks of coming age, which, like his gray hairs, had, I was 
 told, much increased during the two preceding years. His 
 countenance, as everybody knows, was dull when at rest ; and 
 even in common conversation, I think it expressed only much 
 good nature and a remarkable willingness to listen. But his 
 smile was uncommonly sweet and winning ; and when he re- 
 peated poetry, which he loved to do, there was a transfigura- 
 tion of his features which seemed to change their expression 
 entirely. His deep, bluish-gray eyes, or rather the white, por- 
 tions of them, blushed and became pink with his emotion — 
 an effect I have noticed in only a few other instances, and 
 those in persons who possessed much sensibility." — George 
 
 TiCKNOR. 
 
 DAILY HABITS. 
 
 Lockhart tells us that at Ashestiel, Scott got up by five 
 o'clock, worked at his desk till the family came to breakfast, 
 between eight and nine, by which time he had done enough 
 ^' to break the neck of the day's work." After breakfast he 
 spent two hours more at his desk, and by noon was '* his own 
 man." '' When the weather was too bad, he would labor in- 
 cessantly all the morning ; but the general rule was to be out 
 and on horseback by one o'clock at the latest ; while if any 
 more distant excursion had been proposed over-night, he was 
 ready to start on it by ten." 
 
 WRITINGS. 
 
 Scott began his literary career as a writer of ballads. He 
 won considerable reputation by his translations from Burger 
 and Goethe, and by his Border Ballads. After the ballads 
 
INTRODUCTION, 5 
 
 came The Lay of the Last Minstrel, in 1805 ; Marmion, in 1808; 
 and The Lady of the Lake, the most popular of all, in 1810. 
 Scott was paid two thousand guineas for The Lady of the Lake. 
 Waverley, the first part of the Waverley Novels, appeared in 
 1814, followed by Guy Manner'mg in 1815, and others at the 
 rate of nearly two each year. The last two. Count Robert of 
 Paris and Castle Dangerous, did not appear till 1831, the year 
 of Scott's death. 
 
 I. Translations, 1796-1800. 
 II. Ballads. 
 
 Glenfinlas 1799 Cadyow Castle 1810 
 
 Eve of St. John 1799 English Minstrelsy .... 1810 
 
 The Grey Brothers 1799 The Battle of Sempach . . . 1818 
 
 Border Minstrelsy . . . 1802-1803 The Noble Moringer .... 1819 
 
 III. Poems of Komance. 
 
 The Lay of the Last Minstrel . 
 
 Marmion 
 
 The Lady of the Lake . . . 
 Vision of Don Roderick . . . 
 
 1805 
 
 1810 
 1811 
 
 Rokeby 1812 
 
 The Bridal of Triermain . . 1813 
 The Lord of the Isles . > . . 1815 
 
 lY. Waverley Novels. 
 
 Waverley 1814 
 
 Guy Mannering 1815 
 
 The Antiquary 1816 
 
 The Black Dwarf 1816 
 
 Old Mortality 1816 
 
 Rob Roy 1818 
 
 The Heart of Mid-Lothian . . 1818 
 
 The Bride of Lammermoor . 1819 
 
 The Legend of Montrose . . 1819 
 
 Ivanhoe o . . . 1820 
 
 The Monastery 1820 
 
 The Abbot 1820 
 
 Kenilworth. , 1821 
 
 The Pirate 1822 
 
 The Fortunes of Nigel . . . 1822 
 
 Peveril of the Peak 
 Quentin Durward 
 St. Ronan's Well 
 Redgauntlet . . 
 The Betrothed. . 
 The Talisman . . 
 Woodstock . . . 
 The Two Drovers 
 The Highland Widow 
 The Surgeon's Daughter 
 The Fair Maid of Perth 
 Anne of Geierstein . . 
 Count Robert of Pans 
 Castle Dangerous . . 
 
 1823 
 1823 
 1824 
 1824 
 1825 
 1825 
 •l826 
 1827 
 1827 
 1827 
 1828 
 1829 
 1831 
 1831 
 
6 INTROBUCTIQN. 
 
 Y. Miscellaneous. 
 
 Reviews, Essays, Tales, Short Biographies, Memoirs, etc. 
 
 SCOTT AS A POET. 
 
 *' The distinctive features of the poetry of Scott are ease, 
 rapidity of movement, a spirited flow of narrative that holds 
 our attention, an out-of-doors atmosphere and power of natural 
 description, an occasional intrusion of a gentle personal sad- 
 ness ; and but little more. The subtle and mystical element, 
 so characteristic of the poetry of Wordsworth and Coleridge, 
 is not to be found in that of Scott, while in lyrical powder he 
 does not approach Shelley. We find instead an intense sense 
 of reality in all his natural descriptions ; it surrounds them 
 with an indefinable atmosphere, because they are so trans- 
 parently true. Scott's first impulse in the direction of poetry 
 was given him from the study of the German ballads, espe- 
 cially Burger's Lenore, of which he made a translation. As 
 his ideas widened, he wished to do for Scottish Border life 
 what Goethe had done for the ancient feudalism of the Rhine. 
 He was at first undecided whether to choose prose or verse as 
 his medium ; but a legend was sent him by the Countess of 
 Dalkeith, with a request that he would put it in ballad form. 
 Having thus the framework for his purpose, he went to work, 
 and The Lay of the Last Minstrel was the result. . . . The 
 battle scene in Marmion has been called the most Homeric 
 passage in modern literature ; and his description of ^* The 
 Battle of BeaP an Duine," from The Lady of the Lake, is an 
 exquisite piece of narration, from the gleam of the spears in 
 the thicket to the death of Roderick Dhu at its close. In the 
 deepest sense, Scott is one with the spirit of his time in his 
 grasp of fact, in that looking steadily at the object, which 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 Wordsworth had fought for in poetry, which Carlyle had ad- 
 vocated in philosophy. He is allied, too, to that broad sym- 
 pathy for man which lay closest to the heart of the age's 
 literary expression. Wordsworth's part is to inspire an in- 
 terest in the lives of men and women about us ; Scott's, to 
 enlarge the bounds of our sympathy beyond the present, and 
 to people the silent centuries. Shelley's inspiration is hope 
 for the future ; Scott's is reverence for the past." — Pan- 
 coast's Representative English Literature. 
 
 PROMINENT CHARACTERISTICS OF SCOTT AS A MAN. 
 
 Extraordinary Memory. — Mr. George Ticknor says that 
 Scott repeated to him the English translations of two long 
 Spanish ballads which he had never seen, but which had been 
 read to him twice. Scott's college friend, John Irving, in writ- 
 ing of himself and Scott, says : '' The number of books we thus 
 devoured was very great. I forgot great part of what I read ; 
 but my friend, notwithstanding he read with such rapidity, 
 remained, to my surprise, master of it all, and could even, 
 weeks and months afterwards, repeat a whole page in which 
 anything had particularly struck him at the moment." 
 
 Unsurpassed Conversational Powers. — " During the time of 
 my visit," says Washington Irving, " he inclined to the comic 
 rather than to the grave in his anecdotes and stories ; and such, 
 I was told, was his general inclination. He relished a joke or 
 a trait of humor in social intercourse, and laughed with right 
 good will. . . . His humor in conversation, as in his works, 
 was genial, and free from all causticity. He had a quick per- 
 ception of faults and foibles ; but he looked upon human 
 nature with an indulgent eye, relishing what was good and 
 pleasant, tolerating what was frail, and pitying what was 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 evil. ... I do not recollect a sneer throughout his conversa- 
 tion, any more than there is throughout his works." 
 
 Sincerity and Honesty. — "I think," says Lord Byron, " that 
 Scott is the only very successful genius that could be cited as 
 being as generally beloved as a man as he is admired as an 
 author ; and, I must add, he deserves it ; for he is so thor- 
 oughly good-natured, sincere, and honest, that he disarms the 
 envy and jealousy his extraordinary genius must excite." 
 
 Uniform Courtesy and Hospitality. — *' It would hardly, I be- 
 lieve," says Lockhart, '' be too much to affirm that Sir Walter 
 Scott entertained u.nder his roof, in the course of the seven or 
 eight brilliant seasons when his prosperity was at its height, 
 as many persons of distinction in rank, in politics, in art, in 
 literature, and in science, as the most princely nobleman of 
 his age ever did in the like space of time." 
 
 Great Power of Mental Association. — " Scott, as all who saw 
 him tell us," says Leslie Stephen, '' could never see an old 
 tower, or .a bank, or a rush of a stream, without instantly re- 
 calling a boundless collection of appropriate anecdotes. He 
 might be quoted as a case in point by those who would explain 
 all poetical imagination by the power of associating ideas. 
 He is the jwet of association.^^ 
 
 Patriotism and Love of Family. — '' The love of his country," 
 says Lockhart, '' became indeed a passion ; no knight ever 
 tilted for his mistress more willingly than he would have bled 
 and died to preserve even the airiest surviving nothing of her 
 antique pretensions for Scotland. But the Scotland of his 
 affections had the clan Scott for her kernel." 
 
 High Veneration for Antiquity. — ''His cranium, indeed," 
 says Prescott, " to judge from his busts, must have exhibited a 
 strong development of the organ of veneration. He regarded 
 with reverence everything connected with antiquity." 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 Great Energy and Vigor. — ^< Yet, on the other hand," says 
 Carlyle, ''the surliest critic must allow that Scott was a 
 genuine man, which itself is a great matter, l^o affectation, 
 fantasticality, or distortion dwelt in him, no shadow of cant. 
 Nay, withal, was he not a right brave and strong man accord- 
 ing to his kind? AVhat a load of toil, what a measure of 
 felicity, he quietly bore along with him ! with what quiet 
 strength he both worked on this earth and enjoyed in it, 
 invincible to evil fortune and to good ! " 
 
 Extreme Fondness for Animals. — "But Scott's sympathies 
 were not confined to his species," says Prescott ; "and if he 
 treated them like blood relations, he treated his brute fol- 
 lowers like personal friends." 
 
 FRIENDS AND CONTEMPORARIES. 
 
 Among Scott's friends and contemporaries may be men- 
 tioned the following : — 
 
 John Irving, intimate friend in college. 
 
 Robert Burns, the poet, came to Edinburgh when Scott was 
 fifteen years old. 
 
 James Ballantyne, the publisher. 
 
 James Hogg, the peasant poet, sometimes called the " Et- 
 trick Shepherd." 
 
 Thomas Campbell, author of Pleasures of Hope. 
 
 William Wordsworth, the poet, a life-long friend. 
 
 Robert Southey, the poet, visited Scott at Ashestiel in 
 1805. 
 
 Joanna Baillie, the poet, visited Scott in 1808. 
 
 Lord Byron, the poet. 
 
 Sir Humphry Davy, the philosopher, a congenial friend and 
 a visitor at Abbotsford. 
 
 Dugald Stewart, Archibald Alison, Sydney Smith, Lord 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Brougham, Lord Jeffrey, William Clerk, Thomas Erskine, 
 Sir William Hamilton, — all members of " The Friday Club." 
 
 Thomas Moore, the poet, a great admirer and a visitor at 
 Abbotsford. 
 
 Goethe, the German poet. 
 
 Henry Hallam, the historian, visited Abbotsford in 1829. 
 
 Crabbe, the poet. 
 
 Maria Edgeworth, the novelist. 
 
 George Ticknor, the author. 
 
 Washington Irving visited Abbotsford in 1817. 
 
 John G. Lockhart, Scott's son-in-law and biographer. 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 IN SIX CANTOS. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Scene of the foUoiving Poem is laid chiefly in the vicinity 
 of Lock Katrine, in the Western Highlands of Perthshire, The 
 time of Action includes Six Days^ and the transactions of each 
 Day occupy a Canto. 
 
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FIEST. 
 
 The Chase. 
 
 Harp of the North ! that moldering long hast hung 
 
 On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring, 
 And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 
 
 Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 
 Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, — 
 
 Minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep ? 
 Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring, 
 
 Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep, 
 Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep ? 
 
 Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, 10 
 
 Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, I 
 
 When lay of hopeless love, or glory won, ' 
 
 Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud. \ 
 
 At each according pause, was heard aloud \ 
 
 Thine ardent symphony sublime and high ! ] 
 
 13 J 
 
14 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bow'd ; 
 
 For still the burden of thy minstrelsy 
 Was Knighthood's dauntless deed, and Beauty's match- 
 less eye. 
 
 wake once more ! how rude soe'er the hand 
 
 That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray ; 20 
 
 wake once more ! though scarce my skill command 
 
 Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay : 
 Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, 
 
 And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 
 Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway. 
 
 The wizard note has not been touch'd in vain. 
 Then silent be no more ! Enchantress, wake again ! 
 
 The stag at eve had drunk his fill, 
 
 Where danced the moon on Monan's rill. 
 
 And deep his midnight lair had made 30 
 
 In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; 
 
 But, when the sun his beacon red 
 
 Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head. 
 
 The deep-mouth'd bloodhound's heavy bay 
 
 Resounded up the rocky way. 
 
 And faint, from farther distance borne, 
 
 Were heard the clanKiner hoof and horn. 
 
THE CHASE. 15 
 
 11. 
 
 As Chief, who hears his warder call, 
 
 " To arms ! the foemeii storm the wall/' 
 
 The antler' d monarch of the waste 40 
 
 Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. 
 
 But, ere his fleet career he took, 
 
 The dew-drops from his flanks he shook ; 
 
 Like crested leader proud and high, 
 
 Toss'd his beam'd frontlet to the sky ; 
 
 A moment gazed adown the dale, 
 
 A moment snufPd the tainted gale, 
 
 A moment listened to the cry. 
 
 That thickened as the chase drew nigh ; 
 
 Then, as the headmost foes appeared, 50 
 
 With one brave bound the copse he clear'd, 
 
 And, stretching forward free and far. 
 
 Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 
 
 III. 
 
 YelPd on the view the opening pack ; 
 
 Eock, glen, and cavern, paid them back ; 
 
 To many a mingled sound at once 
 
 The awaken'd mountain gave response. 
 
 An hundred dogs bay'd deep and strong. 
 
 Clatter' d a hundred steeds along. 
 
 Their peal the merry horns rung out, 60 
 
16 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 An hundred voices join'd the shout ; 
 
 With hark and whoop and wild halloo, 
 
 No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. 
 
 Far from the tumult fled the roe, 
 
 Close in her covert cower'd the doe, 
 
 The falcon, from her cairn on high. 
 
 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 70 
 
 Returned from cavern, cliff, and linn. 
 
 And silence settled, wide and still. 
 
 On the lone Avood and mighty hill. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Less loud the sounds of sylvan war 
 
 Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var, 
 
 And rous'd the cavern, where, 'tis told, 
 
 A giant made his den of old ; 
 
 For ere that steep ascent was won. 
 
 High in his pathway hung the sun. 
 
 And many a gallant, stay'd perforce, 80 
 
 Was fain to breathe his faltering horse. 
 
 And of the trackers of the deer. 
 
 Scarce half the lessening pack was near ; 
 
 So shrewdly on the mountain side. 
 
 Had the bold burst their mettle tried. 
 
THE CHASE. 17 
 
 V. 
 
 The noble stag was pausing now 
 
 Upon the mountain's southern brow, 
 
 Where broad extended, far beneath, 
 
 The varied reahns of fair Menteith. 
 
 With anxious eye he wander'd o'er 90 
 
 Mountain and meadow, moss and moor, 
 
 And ponder'd refuge from his toil. 
 
 By far Lochard or Aberfoyle. 
 
 But nearer was the copsewood gray 
 
 That waved and wept on Loch Achray, 
 
 And mingled with the pine-trees blue 
 
 On the bold cliffs of Benvenue. 
 
 Fresh vigor with the hope returned, 
 
 With flying foot the heath he spurn'd. 
 
 Held westward with unwearied race, lOO 
 
 And left behind the panting chase. 
 
 VI. 
 
 'Twere long to tell what steeds gave o'er. 
 As swept the hunt through Cambusmore ; 
 What reins were tighten'd in despair. 
 When rose Benledi's ridge in air ; 
 Who flagg'd upon Bochastle's heath, 
 Who shunn'd to stem the flooded Teith, 
 For twice that day, from shore to shore. 
 The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er. 
 
18 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 Few were the stragglers following far, no 
 
 That reach' d the lake of Vennachar ; 
 And when the Brigg of Turk was won, 
 The headmost horseman rode alone. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Alone, but with unbated zeal, 
 
 That horseman plied the scourge and steel ; 
 
 Eor jaded now, and spent with toil, 
 
 Emboss'd with foam, and dark with soil. 
 
 While every gasp with sobs he drew. 
 
 The laboring stag strain'd full in view. 
 
 Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, 120 
 
 Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed, 
 
 Fast on his flying traces came, 
 
 And all but won that desperate game ; 
 
 For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch. 
 
 Vindictive toiPd the bloodhound stanch ; 
 
 Nor nearer might the dogs attain. 
 
 Nor farther might the quarry strain. 
 
 Thus up the margin of the lake, 
 
 Between the precipice and brake. 
 
 O'er stock and rock their race they take. 130 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Hunter mark'd that mountain high, 
 .The lone lake's western boundary, 
 
THE CHASE. 19 
 
 And deem'd the stag must turn to bay, 
 
 Where that huge rampart barr'd the way ; 
 
 Already glorying in the prize, 
 
 Measured his antlers with his eyes ; 
 
 For the death-wound and death-halloo, 
 
 Muster'd his breath, his whinyard drew ; — 
 
 But thundering as he came prepared, 
 
 With ready arm and weapon bared, 140 
 
 The wily quarry shunn'd the shock. 
 
 And turn'd him from the opposing rock ; 
 
 Then, dashing down a darksome glen, 
 
 Soon lost to hound and Hunter's ken. 
 
 In the deep Trosachs' wildest nook 
 
 His solitary refuge took. 
 
 There, while close couch'd, the thicket shed 
 
 Cold dews and wild flowers on his head. 
 
 He heard the baffled dogs in vain 
 
 Rave through the hollow pass amain, 150 
 
 Chiding the rocks that yelPd again. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Close on the hounds the Hunter came, 
 To cheer them on the vanished game ; 
 But, stumbling in the rugged dell. 
 The gallant horse exhausted fell. 
 The impatient rider strove in vain 
 To rouse him with the spur and rein. 
 
20 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 For the good steed, his labors o'er, 
 
 Stretch'd his stiff limbs, to rise no more ; 
 
 Then, touched with pity and remorse, 160 
 
 He sorrowed o'er the expiring horse. 
 
 " I little thought, when first thy rein 
 
 I slack'd upon the banks of Seine, 
 
 That Highland eagle e'er should feed 
 
 On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! 
 
 Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day, 
 
 That costs thy life, my gallant gray ! " 
 
 X. 
 
 Then through the dell his horn resounds. 
 
 From vain pursuit to call the hounds. 
 
 Back limp'd, with slow and crippled pace, 170 
 
 The sulky leaders of the chase ; 
 
 Close to their master's side they press'd, 
 
 With drooping tail and humbled crest ; 
 
 But still the dingle's hollow throat 
 
 Prolong'd the swelling bugle-note. 
 
 The owlets started from their dream. 
 
 The eagles answer'd with their scream. 
 
 Round and around the sounds were cast, 
 
 Till echo seem'd an answering blast ; 
 
 And on the Hunter hied his way, 180 
 
 To join some comrades of the day; 
 
 Yet often paused, so strange the road, 
 
 So wondrous were the scenes it showed. 
 
THE CHASE. 21 
 
 XL 
 
 The western waves of ebbing day 
 
 EolFd o'er the glen their level way ; 
 
 Each purple peak^ each flinty spire. 
 
 Was bathed in floods of living fire. 
 
 But not a setting beam could glow 
 
 Within the dark ravines below, 
 
 Where twined the path, in shadow hid, 190 
 
 Round many a rocky pyramid. 
 
 Shooting abruptly from the dell 
 
 Its thunder-splinter'd pinnacle ; 
 
 Eound many an insulated mass. 
 
 The native bulwarks of the pass. 
 
 Huge as the tower which builders vain 
 
 Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain. 
 
 The rocky summits, split and rent, 
 
 Eorm'd turret, dome, or battlement. 
 
 Or seem'd fantastically set 200 
 
 With cupola or minaret. 
 
 Wild crests as pagod ever deck'd. 
 
 Or mosque of Eastern architect. 
 
 Nor were these earth-born castles bare, 
 
 Nor lack'd they many a banner fair ; 
 
 Eor, from their shivered brows displayed. 
 
 Ear o'er the unfathomable glade. 
 
 All twinkling with the dewdrop sheen. 
 
 The brier-rose fell in streamers green, 
 
22 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes, 210 
 
 Waved in the west-wind^s summer sighs. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Boon nature scattered, free and wild, 
 
 Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. 
 
 Here eglantine embalmed the air. 
 
 Hawthorn and hazel mingled there ; 
 
 The primrose pale, and violet flower, 
 
 Found in each clif t a narrow bower ; 
 
 Fox-glove and night-shade, side by side, 
 
 Emblems of punishment and pride, 
 
 Group'd their dark hues Avith every stain 220 
 
 The weather-beaten crags retain. 
 
 With boughs that quak'd at every breath, 
 
 Gray birch and aspen wept beneath ; 
 
 Aloft, the ash and warrior oak 
 
 Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; 
 
 And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung 
 
 His shattered trunk, and frequent flung, 
 
 Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high, 
 
 His boughs athwart the narrowed sky. 
 
 Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, 230 
 
 AVhere glist'ning streamers waved and danced, 
 
 The wanderer's eye could barely view 
 
 The summer heaven's delicious blue ; 
 
THE CHASE. 28 
 
 So wondrous wild, the whole might seem 
 The scenery of a fairy dream. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Onwardj 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, 240 
 
 But broader when again appearing, 
 
 Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face 
 
 Could on the dark-blue mirror trace ; 
 
 And farther as the Hunter strayed. 
 
 Still broader sweep its channels made. 
 
 The shaggy mounds no longer stood, 
 
 Emerging from entangled wood, •* 
 
 But, wave-encircled, seem'd to float, 
 
 Like castle girdled with its moat ; 
 
 Yet broader floods extending still 250 
 
 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. 
 
24 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. \ 
 
 Unless lie climb, with footing nice, | 
 
 A far projecting precipice. ; 
 
 The broom's tough roots his ladder made, 
 
 The hazel saplings lent their aid ; \ 
 
 And thus an airy point he won, ' 260 J 
 
 Where, gleaming with the setting sun, ; 
 
 One burnished sheet of living gold. 
 
 Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolPd, ] 
 
 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. 4. 
 
 High on the south, huge Benvenue 270 
 
 Down to the lake in masses threw \ 
 
 i 
 
 Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurPd, j 
 
 The fragments of an earlier world ; ; 
 
 A wildering forest feather'd o'er , 
 
 His ruin'd sides and summit hoar, \ 
 
 W^hile on the north, through middle air, ■ 
 
 Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare. 
 
 XV. ' \ 
 
 From the steep promontory gazed ; 
 
 The stranger, raptured and amazed, \ 
 
 And, " What a scene were here,'' he cried, 280 \ 
 
THE CHASE, . 25 
 
 " For princely pomp, or churchman's pride ! 
 
 On this bold brow, a lordly tower ; 
 
 In that soft vale, a lady's bower ; 
 
 On yonder meadow, far away. 
 
 The turrets of a cloister gray ; 
 
 How blithely might the bugle-horn 
 
 Chide, on the lake, the lingering morn ! 
 
 How sweet, at eve, the lover's lute 
 
 Chime, when the groves were still and mute ! 
 
 And, when the midnight moon should lave 290 
 
 Her forehead in the silver wave. 
 
 How solemn on the ear would come 
 
 The holy matin's distant hum. 
 
 While the deep peal's commanding tone 
 
 Should wake, in yonder islet lone, 
 
 A sainted hermit from his cell, 
 
 To drop a bead with every knell — 
 
 And bugle, lute, and bell, and all, 
 
 Should each bewilder'd strangej^ call 
 
 To friendly feast, and lighted hall. 300 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Blithe were it then to wander here 
 But now, — beshrew yon nimble deer, 
 Like that same hermit's, thin and spare. 
 The copse must give my evening fare ; 
 Some mossy bank my couch must be, 
 
26 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Some rustling oak my canopy. 
 
 Yet pass we that ; the war and chase 
 
 Give little choice of resting-place ; — 
 
 A summer night, in greenwood spent, 
 
 Were but to-morrow's merriment : 310 
 
 But hosts may in these wilds abound, 
 
 Such as are better miss'd 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 train ; 
 
 Or, fall the worst that may betide. 
 
 Ere now this falchion has been tried. '^ 
 
 XVII. 
 
 But scarce again his horn he wound. 
 
 When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 320 
 
 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 steep 
 
 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 snow. 330 
 
THE CHASE, 27 
 
 The boat had touch'd this silver strand^ 
 
 Just as the Hunter left his stand, 
 
 And stood conceal' d 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. 
 
 And eye and ear attentive bent, 
 
 And locks flung back, and lips apart. 
 
 Like monument of Grecian art, 340 
 
 In listening mood, she seem'd to stand. 
 
 The guardian Naiad of the strand. 
 
 XVITL 
 
 And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 
 
 A Nym|)h, a Naiad, or a Grace, 
 
 Of finer form, or lovelier face ! 
 
 What though the sun, with ardent frown. 
 
 Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, — 
 
 The sportive toil, which, short and light. 
 
 Had dyed her glowing hue so bright. 
 
 Served too in hastier swell to show 350 
 
 Short glimpses of a breast of snow : 
 
 What though no rule of courtly grace 
 
 To measured mood had train'd her pace, — 
 
 A foot more light, a step more true, 
 
 Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew ; 
 
28 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 E'en the slight harebell 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, 360 
 
 The listener held his breath to hear ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 A chieftain's daughter seem'd the maid ; 
 
 Her satin snood, her silken plaid. 
 
 Her golden brooch such birth betray VI. 
 
 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, 370 
 
 And never brooch the folds combined 
 
 Above a heart more good and kind. 
 
 Her kindness and her worth to spy. 
 
 You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; 
 
 Not Katrine, in her mirror blue. 
 
 Gives back the shaggy banks more true. 
 
 Than every free-born glance confessed 
 
 The guileless movements of her breast ; 
 
 Whether joy danced in her dark eye, 
 
 Or woe or pity claim'd a sigh, 380 
 
THE CHASE. 29 j 
 
 i 
 
 Or filial love was glowing there, ; 
 
 Or meek devotion pour'd a prayer, j 
 
 Or tale of injury calPd forth :.\ 
 
 The indignant spirit of the North. ^ 
 
 One only passion unreveaPd, \ 
 
 With maiden pride the maid conceal'd, j 
 
 Yet not less purely felt the flame ; — \ 
 
 need I tell that passion's name ! 1 
 
 XX. 
 
 Impatient of the silent horn, j 
 
 Now on the gale her voice was borne : — 390 j 
 
 j 
 
 '' Father ! '' 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 utter'd fell, ] 
 
 The echoes could not catch the swell. j 
 
 ^^ A stranger I," the Huntsman said, _ i 
 
 Advancing from the hazel shade. 
 
 The maid, alarm'd, with hasty oar, 
 
 Push'd her light shallop from the shore, 400 
 
 And wlien a space was gain'd between. 
 
 Closer she drew her bosom's screen ; ; 
 
 (So forth the startled swan would swing, \ 
 
 So turn to prune his ruffled wing.) \ 
 
 Then safe, though fluttered and amazed, ] 
 
30 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 She paused^ and on the stranger gazed. 
 I^ot his the form, nor his the eye, 
 That youthful maidens wont to fly. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 On his bold visage middle age 
 
 Had slightly pressed its signet sage, 4io 
 
 Yet had not quench'd the open truth 
 
 And fiery vehemence of youth ; 
 
 Forward and frolic glee was there, 
 
 The will to do, the soul to dare. 
 
 The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire, 
 
 Of hasty love, or headlong ire. 
 
 His limbs were cast in manly mould. 
 
 For hardy sport or contest bold ; 
 
 And though in peaceful garb array 'd. 
 
 And weaponless, except his blade, 420 
 
 His stately mien as well implied 
 
 A high-born heart, a martial pride, 
 
 As if a baron's crest he wore. 
 
 And sheath'd in armor trod the shore. 
 
 Slighting the petty need he show'd, 
 
 He told of his benighted road ; 
 
 His ready speech flow'd fair and free, 
 
 In phrase of gentlest courtesy ; 
 
 Yet seem'd that tone, and gesture bland. 
 
 Less used to sue than to command. 430 
 
THE CHASE. 31 
 
 XXII. 
 
 A while the maid the stranger eyed, 
 
 And, rea'^ssured, at length replied, 
 
 That Highland halls were open still 
 
 To wilderVl 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 pulPd for you ; 
 
 On yonder mountain's purple head 
 
 Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bled, 440, 
 
 And our broad nets have swept the mere, 
 
 To furnish forth your evening cheer.'' — 
 
 ^^Now, by the rood, my lovely maid, 
 
 Your courtesy has err'd," 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, 450 
 
 Till on this lake's romantic strand, 
 
 I found a fay in fairy land." 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " I well believe," the maid replied. 
 
 As her light skiff approach'd the side, — 
 
32 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 ''1 well believe that ne'er before 
 
 Your foot has trod Loch Katrine's shore ; 
 
 But yet, as far as yesternight, 
 
 01(1 Allan-bane foretold your plight, — 
 
 A gray-hair'd sire, whose eye intent 
 
 Was on the vision'd future bent. 460 
 
 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 tasselPd horn so gayly gilt. 
 
 That falchion's crooked blade and hilt, 
 
 That cap with heron plumage trim. 
 
 And yon two hounds so dark and grim. 
 
 He bade that all should ready be, 
 
 To grace a guest of fair degree ; 470 
 
 But light I held his prophecy. 
 
 And deem'd it was my father's horn. 
 
 Whose echoes o'er the lake were borne." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The stranger smiled : — " Since to your home 
 A destined. errant-knight I come. 
 Announced by prophet sooth and old, 
 Doom'd, doubtless, for achievement bold, 
 I'll lightly front each high emprise. 
 For one kind glance of those bright eyes. 
 
THE CHASE 33 
 
 Permit me, first, the task to guide, 480 
 
 Your fairy frigate o'er the tide.'' 
 
 The maid, with smile suppress'd and sly, 
 
 The toil unwonted saw him try ; 
 
 For seldom sure, if e'er before. 
 
 His noble hand had grasp'd an oar : 
 
 Yet with main strength his strokes he drew, 
 
 And o'er the lake the shallop flew ; 
 
 With heads erect, and whimpering cry. 
 
 The hounds behind their passage ply. 
 
 Nor frequent does the bright oar break 490 
 
 The darkening mirror of the lake, 
 
 Until the rocky isle they reach. 
 
 And moor their shallop on the beach. 
 
 XXV. I 
 
 The stranger view'd the shore around ; \ 
 
 ^Twas all so close with copsewood bound, I 
 
 Nor track nor pathway might declare i 
 
 That human foot frequented there, \ 
 
 Until the mountain-maiden show'd ] 
 
 A clambering unsuspected road, ^ | 
 
 That winded through the tangled screen, 500 j 
 
 And open'd on a narrow green, ^ 
 
 Where weeping birch and willow round j 
 
 With their long fibres swept the ground ; I 
 
34 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Here, for retreat in dangerous hour, 
 Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 It was a lodge of ample size, 
 
 But strange of structure and device ; 
 
 Of such materials, as around 
 
 The workman's hand had readiest found. 
 
 Lopp'd of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, 
 
 And by the hatchet rudely squared, 511 
 
 To give the walls their destined height, 
 
 The sturdy oak and ash unite ; 
 
 While moss and clay and leaves combined 
 
 To fence each crevice from the wind. 
 
 The. lighter pine-trees, overhead. 
 
 Their slender length for rafters spre^-d, 
 
 And withered heath and rushes dry 
 
 Supplied a russet canopy. 
 
 Due westward, fronting to the green, 520 
 
 A rural portico was seen. 
 
 Aloft on native pillars borne. 
 
 Of mountain fir with bark unshorn. 
 
 Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine 
 
 The ivy and Idaean vine. 
 
 The clematis, the favor'd flower 
 
 Which boasts the name of virgin-boAver, 
 
THE CHASE. 35 : 
 
 i 
 
 And every hardy plant conld bear i 
 
 Loch Katrine's keen and searching air. j 
 
 An instant in this porch she stayed, 530 l 
 And gayly to the stranger said, 
 
 '' On heaven and on thy lady call, ; 
 
 And enter the enchanted hall ! ' ' — \ 
 
 \ 
 
 XXVII. : 
 
 I 
 
 "My hope, my heaven, my trust mnst be, : 
 
 My gentle guide, in following thee.'' — 
 
 He cross'd the threshold — and a clang 
 
 Of angry steel that instant rang. \ 
 
 To his bold brow his spirit rush'd, j 
 
 But soon for vain alarm he blush'd, ' j 
 
 When on the floor he saw displayed, 540 1 
 
 Cause of the din, a naked blade \ 
 
 Dropp'd from the sheath, that careless flung i 
 
 Upon a stag's huge antlers swung; j 
 
 For all around, the walls to grace, \ 
 
 Hung trophies of the fight or chase : ' : 
 
 A target there, a bugle here, * i 
 
 A battle-axe, a hunting spear, j 
 
 And broadswords, bows, and arrows store, | 
 
 With the tusk'd trophies of the boar. 
 
 Here grins the wolf as when he died, 550 \ 
 
 And there the wild-cat's brindled hide : 
 
36 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 The frontlet of the elk adorns, 
 Or mantles o'er the bison's horns ; 
 Pennons and flags defaced and stain' d, 
 That blackening streaks of blood retained, 
 And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and white, 
 With otter's fur and seal's luiite. 
 In rude and uncouth tapestry all. 
 To garnish forth the sylvan hall. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The wondering stranger round him gazed, 560 
 
 And next the fallen weapon raised ; — 
 
 Few were the arms whose sinewy strength 
 
 Sufficed to stretch it forth at length. 
 
 And as the brand he poised and sway'd, 
 
 '^ 1 never knew but one," he said, 
 
 '^ Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield 
 
 A blade like this in battle-field." 
 
 She sigh'd, then smiled, and took the word ; 
 
 " You see the guardian champion's sword ; 
 
 As light it trembles in his hand, 570 
 
 As in my grasp a hazel wand ; 
 
 My sire's tall form might grace the part 
 
 Of Ferragus or Ascabart ; 
 
 But in the absent giant's hold 
 
 Are women now, and menials old." 
 
THE CTIASE. 37 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 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, 580 
 
 Young Ellen gave a mother's due. 
 
 Meet welcome to her guest she made. 
 
 And every courteous rite was paid. 
 
 That hospitality could claim. 
 
 Though all unask'd his birth and name. 
 
 Such then the reverence to a guest. 
 
 That fellest foe might join the feast 
 
 And from his deadliest foeman's door 
 
 Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er. 
 
 At length his rank the stranger names, 590 
 
 '^ The Knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz- James ; 
 
 Lord of a barren heritage, 
 
 Which his brave sires, from age to age. 
 
 By their good swords had held with toil ; 
 
 His sire had falPn in such turmoil. 
 
 And he, God wot, was forced to stand 
 
 Oft for his right with blade in hand. 
 
 This morning, with Lord Moray's train 
 
 He chased a stalwart stag in vain. 
 
 Outstripped his comrades, miss'd the deer, 600 
 
 Lost his good steed, and wander'd here." 
 
38 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Fain would the Kniglit in turn require 
 
 The name and state of Ellen's sire. 
 
 Well showed the elder lady's mien, 
 
 That courts and cities she had seen ; 
 
 Ellen, though more her looks displayed 
 
 The simple grace of sylvan maid, 
 
 In speech and gesture, form and face. 
 
 Showed she Avas come of gentle race. 
 
 'Twere strange in ruder rank to find 610 
 
 Such looks, such manners, and such mind. 
 
 Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave. 
 
 Dame Margaret heard with silence grave ; 
 
 Or Ellen, innocently gay, 
 
 Turn'd all inquiry light away :— - 
 
 " Weird 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 spell we cast ; 
 
 While viewless minstrels touch the string, 620 
 
 'Tis thus our charmed rhymes we sing.'' 
 
 She sung, and still a harp unseen 
 
 Eill'd up the symphony between. 
 
THE CHASE. 89 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Song. 
 
 " Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, 
 
 Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking : 
 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, 630 
 
 Every sense in slumber dewing. 
 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. 
 
 Armor's clang or war-steed champing, 
 Trump nor pibroch summon here 
 
 Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. 
 Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 640 
 
 At the day-break from 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.'^ 
 
40 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 XXXIL 
 
 She paused — then, bhishing, led the lay 
 
 To grace the stranger of the day. 
 
 Her mellow notes awhile prolong 650 
 
 The cadence of the flowing song, 
 
 Till to her lips in measured frame 
 
 The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 
 
 Song Contin%ied. 
 '' Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done, 
 
 While our slumbrous spells assail ye. 
 Dream not, with the rising sun, 
 
 Bugles here shall sound reveille. 
 Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; 
 
 Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying ; 
 Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen, * 660 
 
 How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
 Huntsman, rest ; thy chase is done, 
 Think not of the rising sun. 
 For at dawnifig to assail ye. 
 Here no bugles sound reveille.'^ 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The hall was clear'd — the stranger's bed. 
 
 Was there of mountain heather spread, 
 
 Where oft an hundred guests had lain, 
 
 And dream'd their forest sports again. 
 
 But vainly did the heath-flower shed 670 
 
THE CHASE, 41 
 
 Its moorland fragrance round his head ; 
 
 Not Ellen's spell had lull'd to rest 
 
 The fever of his troubled breast. 
 
 In broken dreams the image rose 
 
 Of varied j)erils, 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 falls, his honor's lost. 
 
 Then, — from my couch may heavenly might G80 
 
 Chase that worst phantom of the night ! — 
 
 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 — 690 
 
 were his senses false or true ! 
 
 Dream'd he of death, or broken vow, 
 
 Or is it all a vision now ! 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 At length, with Ellen in a grove 
 
 He seem'd to walk, and speak of love ; 
 
42 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, ] 
 
 -I 
 
 She listen'd with a blush and sigh, ' 
 
 His suit was warm, his hopes were high. 
 
 He sought her yielded hand to clasp, 
 
 And a cold gauntlet met his grasp : 
 
 The phantom's sex was changed and gone, 700 i 
 
 Upon its head a helmet shone ; ; 
 
 Slowly enlarged to giant size, I 
 
 With darkened cheek and threatening eyes, "' 
 
 The grisly visage, stern and hoar, * ^ 
 
 To Ellen still a likeness bore. — - 
 
 He woke, and, panting with affright, \ 
 
 Eecaird the vision of the night. 
 
 The hearth's decaying brands were red, ^ 
 
 And deep and dusky lustre shed, '^ 
 
 Half showing, half concealing, all 710 
 
 The uncouth trophies of the hall. j 
 
 Mid those the stranger fix'd his eye 
 
 Where that huge falchion hung on high, ! 
 
 And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng, 
 
 Eush'd, 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 CHASE. 43 
 
 The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm, 720 
 
 The aspens slept beneath the calm ; 
 
 The silver light^ with quivering glance, 
 
 Play'd on the water's still expanse, — 
 
 Wild were the heart whose passions' sway 
 
 Could rage beneath the sober ray ! 
 
 He felt its calm, that warrior guest. 
 
 While thus he communed with his breast : — 
 
 " Why is it, at each turn I trace 
 
 Some memory of that exiled race ? 
 
 Can I not mountain-maiden spy, 730 
 
 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 fever 'd dream, 
 
 But still the Douglas is the theme ? — 
 
 I'll dream no more — by manly mind 
 
 Not even in sleep is will resigned. 
 
 My midnight orisons said o'er, 
 
 I'll turn to rest, and dream no more." — 
 
 His midnight orisons he told, 740 
 
 A prayer with every bead of gold, 
 
 Consign'd to heaven his cares and woes. 
 
 And sunk in undisturb'd repose ; 
 
 Until the heath-cock shrilly crew. 
 
 And morning dawn'd on Benvenue. 
 
44 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 The Island. 
 
 At morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing, 
 
 Tis morning prompts the linnet's blithest lay, 
 All Nature's children feel the matin spring 
 
 Of life reviving, with reviving day ; 
 And while yon little bark glides down the bay, 
 
 Wafting the stranger on his way again. 
 Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel gray, 
 
 And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain, 
 Mix'd with the sounding harp, white-hair'd Allan- 
 bane ! 
 
 II. 
 
 S07l(/. 
 
 '' Not faster yonder rowers' might 10 
 
 Flings from their oars the spray. 
 Not faster yonder rippling bright. 
 That tracks the shallop's course in light. 
 
 Melts in the lake away, 
 
THE ISLAND. 45 
 
 Than men from memory erase 
 
 The benefits of former days ; 
 
 Then, stranger, go ! good speed the while^ 
 
 Nor think again of the lonely isle. 
 
 ^^ High place to thee in royal court, 
 
 High place in battled line, 20 
 
 Good hawk and liomid for sylvan sport, 
 Where beauty sees the brave resort, 
 
 The honor'd meed be thine ! 
 True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, 
 Thy lady constant, kind, and dear. 
 And lost in love's and friendship's smile 
 Be memory of the lonely isle. 
 
 III. 
 
 Sonr/ Continued. 
 
 " But if beneath yon southern sky 
 
 A plaided stranger roam, 
 Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh, 30 
 
 And snnken cheek and heavy eye, 
 
 Pine for his Highland home ; 
 Then, warrior, then be thine to show 
 The care that soothes a wanderer's woe ; 
 Bemember then thy hap ere while, 
 A stranger in the lonely isle. 
 
46 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 " Or if on life's uncertain main 
 
 Mishap shall mar thy sail ; 
 If faithful, wise, and brave in vain, 
 Woe, want, and exile thou sustain 40 
 
 Beneath the fickle gale ; 
 Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, 
 On thankless courts, or friends estranged, 
 But come where kindred worth shall smile. 
 To greet thee in the lonely isle.'' 
 
 IV. 
 
 As died the sounds upon the tide. 
 
 The shallop reached the mainlaind side, 
 
 And ere his onward way he took. 
 
 The stranger cast a lingering look. 
 
 Where easily his eye might reach 50 
 
 The Harper on the islet beach, 
 
 Eeclined against a blighted tree. 
 
 As wasted, gray, and worn as he. 
 
 To minstrel meditation given. 
 
 His reverend brow was raised to heaven, 
 
 As from the rising sun to claim 
 
 A sparkle of inspiring flame. 
 
 His hand, reclined upon the wire, 
 
 Seem'd watching the awakening fire ; 
 
 So still he sate, as those who wait 60 
 
 Till judgment speak the doom of fate ; 
 
THE ISLAND. 47 
 
 So still, as if no breeze might dare 
 To lift one lock of hoary hair ; 
 So still, as life itself were fled 
 In the last sound his harp had sped. 
 
 V. 
 
 Upon a rock with lichens wild, 
 
 Beside him Ellen sate and smiled. — 
 
 Smiled she to see the stately drake 
 
 Lead forth his fleet upon the lake, 
 
 While her vex'd spaniel, from the beach, 70 
 
 Bay'd at the prize beyond his reach ? 
 
 Yet tell me, then, the maid who knows, 
 
 Why deepened on her cheek the rose ? — 
 
 Forgive, forgive. Fidelity ! 
 
 Perchance the maiden smiled to see 
 
 Yon parting lingerer wave adieu. 
 
 And stop and turn to wave anew ; 
 
 And, lovely ladies, ere your ire 
 
 Condemn the heroine of my lyre. 
 
 Show me the fair would scorn to spy, 80 
 
 And prize such conquest of her eye ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 While yet ne loiter' d on the spot. 
 It seem'd as Ellen mark'd him not ; 
 
48 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 But when he turned him to the glade, 
 
 One courteous parting sign she made ; 
 
 And after^ oft the knight would say. 
 
 That not when prize of festal day 
 
 Was dealt him by the brightest fair 
 
 Who e'er wore jewel in her hair, 
 
 So highly did his bosom swell, 90 
 
 As at that simple mute farewell. 
 
 Now with a trusty mountain-guide, 
 
 And his dark stag-hounds by his side, 
 
 He parts — the maid, unconscious still, 
 
 Watch'd him wind slowly round the hill ; 
 
 But when his stately form was hid. 
 
 The guardian in her bosom chid. — 
 
 '' Thy Malcolm ! vain and selfish Maid ! '' 
 
 'Twas thus upbraiding conscience said, 
 
 ^^ Not so had Malcohn idly hung 100 
 
 On the smooth phrase of southern tongue ; 
 
 Not so had Malcolm strain'd his eye. 
 
 Another step than thine to spy. — 
 
 Wake, Allan-bane,'' aloud she cried. 
 
 To the old Minstrel by her side, 
 
 " Arouse thee from thy moody dream ! 
 
 I'll give thy harp heroic theme. 
 
 And warm thee with a noble name ; 
 
 Pour forth the glory of the Graeme ! " — 
 
 Scarce from her lip the word had rush'd, no 
 
THE ISLAND, 49 
 
 When deep the conscious maiden blush'd ; 
 
 For of his clan in hall and bower^ 
 
 Young Malcolm Graeme was held the flower. 
 
 VIL 
 
 The minstrel waked his harp — three times 
 
 Arose the well-known martial chimes^ 
 
 And thrice their high heroic pride 
 
 In melancholy murmurs died. 
 
 ^^ Vainly thou bid'st, noble maid/' 
 
 Clasping his withered hands^ he said, 
 
 — '' Vainly thou bid'st me wake the strain, 120 
 
 Though all unwont to bid in vain. 
 
 Alas ! than mine a mightier hand 
 
 Has tuned my harp, my strings has spann'd ! 
 
 I touch the chords of joy, but low 
 
 And mournful answer notes of woe ; 
 
 And the proud march, which victors tread. 
 
 Sinks in the wailing for the dead. -^ 
 
 well for me, if mine alone 
 
 That dirge's deep prophetic tone ! 
 
 If, as my tuneful fathers said, 130 
 
 This harp, which erst Saint Modan sway'd. 
 
 Can thus its master's fate foretell. 
 
 Then welcome be the min^rel's knell ! 
 
50 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 ^' But ah ! dear lady, thus it sigh'd, 
 
 The eve thy sainted mother 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, 140 
 
 WaiPd loud through Bothwell's banner'd hall. 
 
 Ere Douglases, to ruin driven. 
 
 Were. exiled from their native heaven. — 
 
 Oh ! if yet worse mishap and woe, 
 
 My master's house must undergo^ 
 
 Or ought but weal to Ellen fair. 
 
 Brood in these accents of despair, 
 
 No future bard, sad Harp ! shall fling 
 
 Triumph or rapture from thy string; 
 
 One short, one final strain shall flow, 150 
 
 Fraught with unutterable woe. 
 
 Then shiver'd shall thy fragments lie. 
 
 Thy master cast him down and die ! '^ 
 
 IX. 
 
 Soothing she answer'd him, — ^^ Assuage, 
 Mine honored friend, the fears of age ; 
 All melodies to thee are known, 
 That harp has rung or pipe has blown. 
 
THE ISLAND, 51 
 
 In Lowland vale or Highland glen, 
 
 From Tweed to Spey — what marvel, then, 
 
 At times, unbidden notes should rise, 160 
 
 Confusedly bound in memory's ties. 
 
 Entangling, as they rush along, 
 
 The war-march with the funeral song ? — 
 
 Small ground is now for boding fear ; 
 
 Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 
 
 My sire, in native virtue great, 
 
 Eesigning lordship, lands, and state, 
 
 Not then to fortune more resigned. 
 
 Than yonder oak might give the wind ; 
 
 The graceful foliage storms may reave, 170 
 
 The noble stem they cannot grieve. 
 
 For me," — she stooped, and, looking round, 
 
 Pluck'd a blue harebell 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, 180 
 
 Allan, a bard is bound to swear 
 
 He ne'er saw coronet so fair." — 
 
 Then playfully the chaplet wild 
 
 She wreath'd in her dark locks, and smiled. 
 
52 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 X. 
 
 Her smile^ her speech, with winning sway, 
 
 Wiled the old harper's mood away. 
 
 With such a look as hermits throw 
 
 When angels stoop to soothe their woe, 
 
 He gazed, till fond regret and pride 
 
 Thrill'd to a tear, then thus replied : 190 
 
 '^ Loveliest and best ! thou little know'st 
 
 The rank, the honors, thou hast lost ! 
 
 might I live to see thee grace. 
 
 In Scotland's court, thy birth-right place. 
 
 To see my favorite'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 ! " 200 
 
 XL 
 
 " Fair dreams are these," the maiden cried, 
 (Light* was her accent, yet she sigh'd,) 
 '' Yet is this mossy rock to me 
 Worth splendid chair and canopy ; 
 Nor would my footsteps spring more gay 
 In courtly dance than blithe strathspey, 
 Nor half so pleased mine ear incline 
 To royal minstrel's lay as thine. 
 
THE ISLAND, 53 
 
 And then for suitors proud and high, 
 
 To bend before my conquering eye, — 210 
 
 Thou, flattering bard ! thyself wilt say, 
 
 That grim 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.'' — 
 
 XIL 
 
 The ancient bard his glee repress'd ; 
 
 " 111 hast thou chosen theme for jest ! 
 
 For who, through all this western wild, 
 
 Named Black Sir Eoderick e'er, and smiled ! 220 
 
 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, though outlaw'd, hath his hand 
 
 Full sternly kept his mountain land. 
 
 Who else dared give, — ah ! woe the day. 
 
 That I such hated truth should say — 
 
 The Douglas, like a stricken deer, 
 
 Disown'd by every noble peer, 230 
 
 Even the rude refuge we have here ? 
 
 Alas, this wild marauding Chief 
 
 Alone might hazard our relief. 
 
64 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 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. 
 
 Then, though an exile on the hill, 
 
 Thy father, as the Douglas, still 
 
 Be held in reverence and fear ; 240 
 
 And though to Eoderick thou'rt so dear 
 
 That thou might' st guide with silken thread, 
 
 Slave of thy will, this chieftain dread, 
 
 Yet, loved maid, thy mirth refrain ! 
 
 Thy hand is on a lion's mane.'' — 
 
 XIII. 
 
 ^^ Minstrel," the maid replied, and high 
 
 Her father's soul glanced from her eye, 
 
 " My debts to Eoderick's house I know ; 
 
 All that a mother could bestow, 
 
 To Lady Margaret's care I owe, 250 
 
 Since first an orphan in the wild 
 
 She sorrowed o'er her sister's child ; 
 
 To her brave chieftain son, from ire 
 
 Of Scotland's king who shrouds my sire, 
 
 A deeper, holier debt is owed ; 
 
 And, could I pay it with my blood, 
 
 Allan ! Sir Eoderick should command 
 
THE ISLAND. 65 
 
 My blood, my life, — but not my hand. 
 
 Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell 
 
 A votaress in Maronnan's cell ; 260 
 
 Rather through realms beyond the sea, 
 
 Seeking the world's cold charity, 
 
 AVhere 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 shakest, 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 ; 270 
 
 And generous — save vindictive mood 
 
 Or jealous transport chafe his blood : 
 
 I grant him true to friendly band. 
 
 As his claymore is to his hand ; 
 
 But ! that very blade of steel 
 
 More mercy for a foe would feel : 
 
 I grant him liberal, to fling 
 
 Among his clan the wealth they bring. 
 
 When back by lake and glen they wind. 
 
 And in the Lowland leave behind, 280 
 
 Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 
 
 A mass of ashes slaked with blood. 
 
56 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 The hand that for my father fought, 
 
 I honor, as his daughter ought ; 
 
 But can I clasp it reeking red, 
 
 From peasants slaughtered in their shed ? 
 
 No ! wildly while his virtues gleam, 
 
 They make his passions darker seem. 
 
 And flash along his spirit high, 
 
 Like lightning o'er the midnight sky. 290 
 
 While yet a child, — and children know, 
 
 Instinctive taught, the friend and foe, — 
 
 I shuddered at his brow of gloom, 
 
 His shadowy plaid, and sable plume ; 
 
 A maiden grown, I ill could bear 
 
 His haughty mien and lordly air : 
 
 But, if thou join'st a suitor's claim, 
 
 In serious mood, to Koderick's name, 
 
 I thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er 
 
 A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 300 
 
 To change such odious theme were best, — 
 
 What think'st thou of our stranger guest ? " — 
 
 XV. 
 
 ^^ What think I of him ? — woe the while 
 That brought such wanderer to our isle ! 
 Thy father's battle-brand, of yore 
 For Tine-man forged by fairy lore. 
 What time he leagued, no longer foes. 
 
THE ISLAND. 57 
 
 His Border spears with Hotspur's bows, 
 
 Did, self-unscabbarded, foreshow 
 
 The footstep of a secret foe. ^ 310- 
 
 If courtly spy hath harbor'd here, 
 
 What may we for the Douglas fear ? 
 
 What for this island, deem'd of old 
 
 Clan- Alpine's last and surest hold ? 
 
 If neither spy nor foe, I pray 
 
 What yet may jealous Roderick say ? 
 
 — N^ay, wave not thy disdainful head. 
 
 Bethink thee of the discord dread 
 
 That kindled when at Beltane game 
 
 Thou ledst the- dance with Malcolm Graeme ; 320 
 
 Still, though thy sire the peace renewed, 
 
 Smoulders in Roderick's breast the feud ; 
 
 Beware ! — But hark, what sounds are these ? 
 
 My dull ears catch no faltering breeze, 
 
 Ko weeping birch, nor aspens wake, 
 
 Kor breath is dimpling in the lake, 
 
 Still is the canna's hoary beard. 
 
 Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard — 
 
 And hark again ! some pipe of war 
 
 Sends the bold pibroch from afar.'' — 330 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Tar up the lengthen'd lake were spied 
 Four darkening specks upon the tide, 
 
58 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 That, slow enlarging on the view, 
 
 Four mann'd and masted barges grew, 
 
 And, bearing downwards from Glengyle, 
 
 Steer'd full upon the lonely isle ; 
 
 The point of Brianchoil they passed, 
 
 And, to the windward as they cast, 
 
 Against the sun they gave to shine 
 
 The bold Sir Roderick's banner'd Pine. 340 
 
 Nearer and nearer as they bear. 
 
 Spears, pikes, and axes flash in air. 
 
 Now might you see the tartans brave. 
 
 And plaids and plumage dance and wave : 
 
 Now see the bonnets sink and rise. 
 
 As his tough oar the rower plies ; 
 
 See, flashing at each sturdy stroke, 
 
 The wave ascending into smoke ; 
 
 See the proud pipers on the bow, 
 
 And mark the gaudy streamers flow 350 
 
 From their loud chanters down, and sweep 
 
 The furrow'd bosom of the 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 sound, by distance tame. 
 
i 
 
 THE ISLAND. 59 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 Mellowed along the waters came^ I 
 
 And, lingering long by cape and bay, \ 
 
 WaiPd every harsher note away, 360 j 
 
 Then bursting bolder on the ear, i 
 
 The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear ; ■ 
 
 Those thrilling sounds, that call the might j 
 
 Of Old Clan-Alpine to the fight. i 
 
 Thick beat the rapid notes, as when | 
 
 j 
 
 The mustering hundreds shake the glen, " \ 
 
 And hurrying at the signal dread, j 
 
 The batter'd earth returns their tread. i 
 
 Then prelude light, of livelier tone, \ 
 
 Expressed their merry marching on^ 370 \ 
 
 Ere peal of closing battle rose, \ 
 
 With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows; "] 
 
 And mimic din of stroke and ward, 1 
 
 As broadsword upon target jarr'd ; \ 
 
 And groaning pause, ere yet again, \ 
 
 Condensed, the battle yelPd amain ; 
 
 The rapid charge, the rallying shout, \ 
 
 Retreat borne headlong into rout, j 
 
 And bursts of triumph, to declare \ 
 
 Clan-Alpine's conquest — all were there. 380 ; 
 
 Nor ended thus the strain ; but slow \ 
 
 Sunk in a moan prolonged and low, ^ 
 
 And changed the conquering clarion swell, 
 
 Eor wild lament o'er those that felL 
 
60 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The war pipes ceased ; but lake and hill 
 
 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 Chieftain's praise. 390 
 
 Each boatman, bending to his oar. 
 
 With measured sweep the burden bore. 
 
 In such wild cadence as the breeze 
 
 Makes through December's leafless trees. 
 
 The chorus first could Allan know, 
 
 " Roderick Vich Alpine, ho ! iro ! " 
 
 And near, and nearer as they row'd, 
 
 Distinct the martial ditty flow'd. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Boat Song, 
 Hail to the chief who in triumph advances ! 
 
 Honor'd and bless'd be the ever-green Pine ! 400 
 Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, 
 Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 
 Heaven send it happy dew. 
 Earth lend it sap anew, 
 Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow. 
 While every Highland glen 
 Sends our shout back agen, 
 " Eoderich Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 
 
THE ISLAND. 61 
 
 Ours is no sapling^ chance-sown by the fountain, 
 
 Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; 410 
 
 When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the 
 mountain, 
 The more shall Clan- Alpine exult in her shade. 
 Moor'd in the rifted rock, 
 Proof to the tempest's shock. 
 Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow : 
 Menteith and Breadalbane, then. 
 Echo his praise agen, 
 ^' Eoderich Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! iereo ! '' 
 
 XX. 
 
 Proudly our pibroch has thrilFd in Glen Fruin, 
 
 And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied ; 420 
 Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, 
 And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side. 
 Widow and Saxon maid. 
 Long shall lament our raid. 
 Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe ; 
 Lennox and Leven-glen 
 Shake when they hear agen, 
 " Eoderich Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! '' 
 
 Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands ! 
 
 Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green Pine ! 430 
 that the rose-bud that graces yon islands. 
 
 Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine ! 
 
62 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 that some seedling gem, 
 Worthy such noble stem, 
 Honor'd and bless'd in their shadow might grow ! 
 Loud should Clan-Alpine then 
 Ring from her deepmost glen, 
 '' Roderich Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 
 
 XXL 
 
 With all her joyful female band. 
 
 Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. 440 
 
 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 art, 
 
 The darling passion of his heart. 
 
 The Dame called Ellen to the strand, 
 
 To greet her kinsman ere he land : 
 
 '' Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou. 
 
 And shun to wreathe a victor's brow ? " 450 
 
 Reluctantly and slow, the maid 
 
 The unwelcome summoning obey'd. 
 
 And, when a distant bugle rung. 
 
 In the mid-path aside she sprung : — 
 
 '^ List, Allan-bane ! From mainland cast 
 
 I hear my father's signal blast. 
 
 Be ours," she cried, '' the skiff to guide. 
 
THE ISLAND. 63 
 
 And waft liim from the mountain-side." — 
 
 Then, like a sunbeam, swift and bright, 
 
 She darted to her shallop light, 460 
 
 And, eagerly while Roderick scanned, 
 
 For her dear form, his mother's band, 
 
 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 tear 
 
 From passion's dross refined and clear, 
 
 A tear so limpid and so meek. 
 
 It would not stain an angePs cheek, 470 
 
 ^Tis that which pious fathers shed 
 
 Upon a duteous daughter's head ! 
 
 And as the Douglas to his breast 
 
 His darling Ellen closely press'd. 
 
 Such holy drops her tresses steep'd, 
 
 Though 'twas an hero's eye that weep'd. 
 
 Nor while on Ellen's faltering tongue 
 
 Her filial welcomes crowded hung, 
 
 Mark'd she, that fear (affection's proof) 
 
 Still held a graceful youth aloof ; 480 
 
 No ! not till Douglas named his name. 
 
 Although the youth was Malcolm Graeme. 
 
64 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Allan, with, wistful look the while, 
 
 Mark'd Roderick landing on the isle ; 
 
 His master piteously he eyed, 
 
 Then gazed upon the Chieftain's pride, 
 
 Then dash'd, with hasty hand, away 
 
 From his dimmed eye the gathering spray ; 
 
 And Douglas, as his hand he laid 
 
 On Malcolm's shoulder, kindly said, 490 
 
 '' Canst thou, young friend, no meaning spy 
 
 In my poor follower's glistening eye ? 
 
 I'll tell thee : — he recalls the day, 
 
 When in my praise he led the lay 
 
 O'er the arch'd gate of Bothwell proud. 
 
 While many a minstrel answer'd loud, 
 
 When Percy's Norman pennon, won 
 
 In bloody field, before me shone. 
 
 And twice ten knights, the least a name 
 
 As mighty as yon Chief may claim, 500 
 
 Gracing my pomp, behind me came. 
 
 Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 
 
 Was I of all that marshall'd crowd. 
 
 Though the waned crescent own'd my might, 
 
 And in my train troop'd lord and knight, 
 
 Though Blantyre hymn'd her holiest lays, 
 
 And Bothwell's bards flung back my praise. 
 
 As when this old man's silent tear, 
 
THE ISLAND. 65 
 
 And this poor maid's affection dear, 
 
 A welcome give more kind and true, 510 
 
 Than aught my better fortunes knew. 
 
 Forgive, my friend, a father's boast ; 
 
 ! it out-beggars all I lost ! '' 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Delightful praise ! — like summer rose. 
 
 That brighter in the dew-drop glows. 
 
 The bashful maiden's cheek appear'd. 
 
 For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. 
 
 The flush of shame-faced joy to hide. 
 
 The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide ; *" 
 
 The loved caresses of the maid 520 
 
 The dogs with crouch and whimper paid 
 
 And, at her whistle, on her hand 
 
 The falcon took his favorite stand. 
 
 Closed his dark wing, relax'd his eye. 
 
 Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly. 
 
 And, trust, while in such guise she stood. 
 
 Like fabled Goddess of the wood. 
 
 That if a father's partial thought 
 
 O'erweigh'd her worth and beauty aught. 
 
 Well might the lover's judgment fail 530 
 
 To balance with a juster scale ; 
 
 For with each secret glance he stole, 
 
 The fond enthusiast sent his soul. 
 
66 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Of stature fair^ and slender frame, 
 
 But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme. 
 
 The belted plaid and tartan hose 
 
 Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ; 
 
 His flaxen hair, of sunny hue, 
 
 CurPd closely round his bonnet blue. 
 
 Train'd to the chase, his eagle eye 540 
 
 The ptarmigan in snow could spy : 
 
 Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath, 
 
 He knew, through Lennox and Menteith ; 
 
 Vain was the bound of dark-brown doe, 
 
 "When Malcolm bent his sounding bow, 
 
 And scarce that doe, though wing'd 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 550 
 
 Lively and ardent, frank and kind ; 
 
 A blither heart, till Ellen came. 
 
 Did never love nor sorrow tame ; 
 
 It danced as lightsome in his breast, 
 
 As play'd the feather on his crest. 
 
 Yet friends, who nearest knew the youth. 
 
 His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth. 
 
 And bards, who saw his features bold. 
 
 When kindled by the tales of old. 
 
THE ISLAND. 67 
 
 Said, were that youth to manhood grown, 560 
 
 Not long should Roderick Dhu's renown 
 Be foremost voiced by mountain fame, 
 But quail to that of Malcolm Graeme. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Now back they wend their watery way, 
 
 And, " my sire ! '' did Ellen say, 
 
 ii Why urge thy chase 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 ; 570 
 
 And with that gallant pastime reft 
 
 Were all of Douglas I have left. 
 
 I met young Malcolm as I stray'd 
 
 Far eastward, in Glenfinlas' shade. 
 
 Nor stray'd I safe ; for, all around. 
 
 Hunters and horsemen scour'd the ground. 
 
 This youth, though still a royal ward, 
 
 Eisk'd life and land to be my guard. 
 
 And through the passes of the wood 
 
 Guided my steps, not unpursued ; 580 
 
 And Roderick shall his welcome make. 
 
 Despite old spleen, for Douglas' sake. 
 
 Then must he seek Strath-Endrick glen. 
 
 Nor peril aught for me agen.'' 
 
68 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Sir Eoderick, who to meet them came^ 
 
 Eedden'd at sight of Malcolm Graeme^ 
 
 Yet^ not in action, word, or eye, 
 
 FaiPd anght in hospitality. 
 
 In talk and sport they whiled away 
 
 The morning of that summer day ; 590 
 
 But at high noon a courier light 
 
 Held secret parley with the knight, 
 
 Whose moody aspect soon declared. 
 
 That evil were the news he heard. 
 
 Deep thought seem'd toiling in his head ; 
 
 Yet was the evening banquet made, 
 
 Ere he assembled round the flame. 
 
 His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, 
 
 And Ellen too ; then cast around 
 
 His eyes, then fix'd them on the ground, 600 
 
 As studying phrase that might avail 
 
 Best to convey unpleasant tale. 
 
 Long with his dagger's hilt he play'd. 
 
 Then raised his haughty brow, and said : — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 ^^ Short be my speech ; — nor time affords, 
 Nor my plain temper, glozing words. 
 Kinsman and father, — if such name 
 Douglas vouchsafe to Eoderick's claim ; 
 
THE ISLAND, 69 
 
 Mine honored mother ; — Ellen — why. 
 
 My cousin, turn away thine eye ? — 610 
 
 And Graeme ; in whom I hope to know 
 
 Full soon a noble friend or foe, 
 
 When age shall give thee thy command, 
 
 And leading in thy native land, — 
 
 List all ! — The King's vindictive pride 
 
 Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, 
 
 Where chiefs, with hound and hawk who came 
 
 To share their monarch's sylvan game. 
 
 Themselves in bloody toils were snared ; 
 
 And when the banquet they prepared, 620 
 
 And wide their loyal portals flung, 
 
 O'er their own gateway struggling hung. 
 
 Loud cries their blood from Meggat's mead, 
 
 From Yarrow braes, and banks of Tweed, 
 
 Where the lone streams of Ettrick glide. 
 
 And from the silver Teviot's side ; 
 
 The dales, where martial clans did ride, 
 
 Are noAV one sheep-walk, waste and wide. 
 
 This tyrant of the Scottish throne. 
 
 So faithless, and so ruthless known, 630 
 
 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. 
 
70 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 Douglas, thy stately form was seen. 
 
 This by espial sure I know : 
 
 Your counsel in the str eight I show.'^ — 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Ellen and Margaret fearfully 
 
 Sought comfort in each other's eye, 640 
 
 Then turned their ghastly look, each one, 
 
 This to her sire, that to her son. 
 
 The hasty color went and came 
 
 In the bold cheek of Malcolm Graeme, 
 
 But from his glance it well appear'd, 
 
 'Twas but for Ellen that he fear'd ; 
 
 While, sorrowful, but undismayed, 
 
 The Douglas thus his counsel said : 
 
 " Brave Eoderick, though the tempest roar, 
 
 It may but thunder and pass o'er ; 650 
 
 Nor will I here remain an hour. 
 
 To draAV the lightning on thy bower ; 
 
 For well thou know'st, at this gray head 
 
 The royal bolt were fiercest sped. 
 
 For thee, who, at thy King's command, 
 
 Canst aid him with a gallant band, 
 
 Submission, homage, humbled pride, 
 
 Shall turn the monarch's wrath aside. 
 
 Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, 
 
 Ellen and I will seek, apart, 660 
 
THE ISLAND. 71 
 
 The refuge of some forest cell, 
 There, like the hunted quarry, dwell, 
 Till, on the mountain and the moor. 
 The stern pursuit be pass'd and o'er.'' — 
 
 XXX. 
 
 "No, by mine honor," Eodericfe said, 
 
 " So help me Heaven, and my good blade ! 
 
 No, never ! Blasted be yon Pine, 
 
 My father's ancient crest, and mine, 
 
 If from its shade in danger part 
 
 The lineage of the Bleeding Heart ! 670 
 
 Hear my blunt speech : grant me this maid 
 
 To wife, thy counsel to mine aid ; 
 
 To Douglas, leagued with Koderick Dhu, 
 
 Will friends and allies flock enow ; 
 
 Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief, 
 
 Will bind to us each Western Chief. 
 
 When the loud pipes my bridal tell. 
 
 The Links of Forth shall hear the knell. 
 
 The guards shall start in Stirling's porch ; 
 
 And, when I light the nuptial torch, 680 
 
 A thousand villages in flames 
 
 Shall scare the slumbers of King James ! 
 
 — Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away. 
 
 And, mother, cease these signs, I pray; 
 
 I meant not all my heart might say. — 
 
72 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. i 
 
 Small need of inroad, or of fight, j 
 
 When the sage Douglas may unite 
 
 Each mountain clan in friendly band, 
 
 To guard the passes of their land, i 
 
 Till the foil'd king, from pathless glen, 690 J 
 
 Shall bootless turn him home agen.'' \ 
 
 1 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 There are who have, at midnight hour, ^ 
 
 In slumber scaled a dizzy tower, j 
 
 And, on the verge that beetled o'er j 
 
 The ocean tide's incessant roar, * ' 
 
 Dream'd calmly out their dangerous dream, , 
 
 Till waken'd by the morning beam ; i 
 
 When dazzled by the eastern glow, ; 
 Such startler cast his glance below, - \ 
 
 And saw unmeasured depth around, 700 \ 
 
 And heard unintermitted sound, j 
 
 And thought the battled fence so frail, \ 
 
 It waved like cobweb in the gale ; — . 
 
 Amid his senses' giddy wheel, .' 
 
 Did he not desperate impulse feel, i 
 
 Headlong to plunge himself below, i 
 
 And meet the worst his fears foreshow ? — i 
 
 Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound, ,; 
 
 As sudden ruin yawn'd around, \ 
 
 By crossing terrors wildly to^s'd, 710 j 
 
THE ISLAND. 73 
 
 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 eye, 
 
 And eager rose to speak — but ere 
 
 His tongue could hurry forth his fear, 
 
 Had Douglas mark'd the hectic strife, 
 
 Where death seem'd combating with life ; 
 
 For to her cheek, in feverish flood, 720 
 
 One instant rush'd the throbbing blood. 
 
 Then ebbing back, with sudden sway. 
 
 Left its domain as wan as clay. 
 
 " Roderick, enough ! enough ! '' he cried, 
 
 " My daughter cannot be thy bride ; 
 
 Not that the blush to wooer dear, 
 
 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 730 
 
 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 ! 
 
 Not Ellen more my pride and joy ; 
 
74 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 i 
 
 I love him still, despite my wrongs, i 
 
 By hasty wrath, and slanderous tongues. : 
 
 seek the grace you well may find, 
 
 Without a cause to mine combined." - 
 
 ] 
 
 XXXIII. '\ 
 
 Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode ; 740 j 
 
 The waving of his tartans broad, \ 
 
 And darken'd brow, where wounded pride ] 
 
 With ire and disappointment vied, 
 
 Seem'd, by the torch's gloomy light, 
 
 Like the ill Demon of the night. 
 
 Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway 
 
 Upon the nighted pilgrim's way : 
 
 But, unrequited Love ! thy dart 
 
 Plunged deepest its envenom'd smart. 
 
 And Eoderick, with thine anguish stung, 750 
 
 At length the hand of Douglas wrung. 
 
 While eyes, that mock'd at tears before, 
 
 With bitter drops were running o'er. 
 
 The death-pangs of long-cherish'd hope 
 
 Scarce in that ample breast had scope, 
 
 But, struggling with his spirit proud. 
 
 Convulsive heaved its chequer'd shroud, 
 
 While every sob — so mute were all — 
 
 Was heard distinctly through the hall. 
 
 The son's despair, the mother's look 760 
 
THE ISLAND. 75 | 
 
 i 
 
 111 might the gentle Ellen brook ; • 
 
 She rose, and to her side there came, i 
 
 To aid her parting steps, the Graeme. i 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 'i 
 
 Then Roderick from the Douglas broke — ] 
 
 As flashes flame through sable smoke, 1 
 
 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 his hand he laid 770 i 
 
 On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : I 
 
 '' Back, beardless boy ! " he sternly said, ^ 
 
 ^^Back, minion ! hold'st thou thus at naught i 
 
 The lesson I so lately taught ? ; 
 
 This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, ^ 
 
 Thank thou for punishment delay'd.*' ; 
 
 Eager as greyhound on his game, ; 
 
 Fiercely with Eoderick grappled Graeme. "\ 
 ^^ Perish my name, if aught afford 
 
 Its Chieftain safety, save his sword ! " 780 | 
 
 Thus as they strove, their desperate hand J 
 
 Griped to the dagger or the brand, 1 
 And death had been — but Douglas rose, 
 And thrust between the struggling foes 
 His giant strength : — ^^ Chieftains, forego ! 
 
76 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 . I hold the first who strikes, my foe. — 
 Madmen, forbear your frantic jar ! 
 Wliat ! is the Douglas f alPn so far. 
 His daughter's hand is deem'd the spoil 
 Of such dishonorable broil ! '' 790 
 
 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 falter'd through terrific dream. 
 
 Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, 
 
 And veil'd his wrath in scornful word: 800 
 
 '^ Rest safe till morning ; pity 'twere 
 
 Such cheek should feel the midnight air! 
 
 Then niayest thou to James Stuart tell, 
 
 Roderick will keep the lake and fell, 
 
 Nor lackey, with his freeborn clan. 
 
 The pageant pomp of earthly man. 
 
 More would he of Clan-Alpine know, 
 
 Thou canst our strength and passes show. — 
 
 Malise, what ho ! '' — his henchman came ; 
 
 " Give our safe-conduct to the Graeme.'' 8io 
 
THE ISLAND. 77 
 
 Young Malcolm answered, calm and bold, 
 
 " Fear nothing for thy favorite hold ; 
 
 The spot an angel deign'd to grace 
 
 Is blessYl, though robbers haunt the place. 
 
 Thy churlish courtesy for those 
 
 Reserve who fear to be thy foes. 
 
 As safe to me the mountain way 
 
 At midnight as in blaze of day, 
 
 Though with his boldest at his back, 
 
 Even Roderick Dhu beset the track. — 820 
 
 Brave Douglas, — lovely Ellen, — nay, 
 
 Naught here of parting will I say. 
 
 Earth does not hold a lonesome glen. 
 
 So secret, but we meet agen. — 
 
 Chieftain ! we too shall find an hour '' — 
 
 He said, and left 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 had sworn, 830 
 
 The Eiery Cross should circle o'er 
 
 Dale, glen, and valley, down, and moor. 
 
 Much were the peril to the Graeme, 
 
 From those who to the signal came ; 
 
 Far up the lake 'twere safest land. 
 
78 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 Himself would row him to the strand. 
 
 He gave his counsel to the wind, 
 
 While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind, 
 
 Round dirk and pouch and broadsword roll'd, 
 
 His ample plaid in tightened fold, 840 
 
 And stripp'd his limbs to such array. 
 
 As best might suit the watery w^ay. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Then spoke abrupt : ^^ Farewell to thee. 
 
 Pattern of old fidelity ! '' 
 
 The MinstrePs hand he kindly press'd, — 
 
 ^^ ! could I ]3oint a place of rest ! 
 
 My sovereign holds in ward my land, 
 
 My uncle leads my vassal band ; 
 
 To tame his foes, his friends to aid. 
 
 Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. 850 
 
 Yet, if there be one faithful Graeme, 
 
 Who loves the Chieftain of his name, 
 
 Not long shall honor'd Douglas dwell. 
 
 Like hunted stag in mountain cell ; 
 
 Nor, ere yon pride-swolPn robber dare, — 
 
 I may not give the rest to air ! 
 
 Tell Roderick Dhu, I owed him naught, 
 
 Not the poor service of a boat. 
 
 To waft me to yon mountain-side." — 
 
 Then plunged he in the flashing tide. 860 
 
TBE ISLAND, 79 
 
 Bold o'er the flood his head he bore, 
 
 ■^^ 
 
 And stoutly steer'd him from the shore; 
 
 And Allan strain'd his anxious eye, 
 
 Far 'mid the lake his form to spy. 
 
 Darkening 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 in the moonlight dell, 
 
 Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 870 
 
 The Minstrel heard the far halloo. 
 
 And joyful from the shore withdrew. 
 
80 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO THIED. 
 
 The Gathering. 
 I. 
 
 Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, 
 
 Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 
 And told our marvelling boyhood legends store 
 
 Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea, 
 How are they blotted from the things that be ! 
 
 How few, all weak and withered of their force. 
 Wait on the verge of dark eternity. 
 
 Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse. 
 To sweep them from our sight ! Time rolls his ceaseless 
 course. 
 
 Yet live there still who can remember well, lo 
 
 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 flew. 
 
 While clamorous war-pipes yelPd the gathering sound. 
 And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor, round. 
 
THE GATHERING. 81 
 
 II. 
 
 The Summer dawn's reflected hue 
 
 To purple changed Loch Katrine blue ; 20 
 
 Mildly and soft the western breeze 
 
 Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, 
 
 And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, 
 
 Trembled but dimpled not for joy ; 
 
 The mountain-shadows on her breast 
 
 Were neither broken nor at rest ; 
 
 In bright uncertainty they lie. 
 
 Like future joys to Fancy's eye. 
 
 The water-lily to the light 
 
 Her chalice rear'd of .silver bright ; 30 
 
 The doe awoke, and to the lawn, 
 
 Begemm'd with dewdrops, led her fawn ; 
 
 The gray mist left the mountain side. 
 
 The torrent show'd its glistening pride ; 
 
 Invisible in flecked sky. 
 
 The lark sent down her revelry ; 
 
 The blackbird and the speckled thrush 
 
 Good-morrow gave from brake and bush ; 
 
 In answer coo'd the cushat dove 
 
 Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. 40 
 
 IIL 
 
 No thought of peace, no thought of rest. 
 Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. 
 
82 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 With sheathed broadsword in his hand, 
 
 Abrupt he paced the islet strand, 
 
 And eyed the rising sun, and laid 
 
 His hand on his impatient blade. 
 
 Beneath a rock, his vassals' care 
 
 Was prompt the ritual to prepare. 
 
 With deep and deathful meaning fraught ; 
 
 For such Antiquity had taught 50 
 
 Was preface meet, ere yet abroad 
 
 The Cross of Fire should take its road. 
 
 The shrinking band stood oft aghast 
 
 At the impatient glance he cast ; — 
 
 Such glance' the mountain eagle threw, 
 
 As, from the cliffs of Benvenue, 
 
 She spread her dark sails on the wind. 
 
 And, high in middle heaven reclined, 
 
 With her broad shadow on the lake. 
 
 Silenced the warblers of the brake. 60 
 
 IV. 
 
 A heap of withered boughs was piled. 
 Of juniper and rowan wild. 
 Mingled with shivers from the oak. 
 Rent by the lightning's recent stroke. 
 Brian, the Hermit, by it stood. 
 Barefooted, in his frock and hood. 
 His grisled beard and matted hair 
 
THE GATHERING, 83 
 
 Obscured a visage of despair ; 
 
 His naked arms and legs, seam'd o'er, 
 
 The scars of frantic penance bore. 70. 
 
 That monk, of savage form and face, 
 
 The impending danger of his race 
 
 Had drawn from deepest solitude. 
 
 Far in Benharrow's bosom rude. 
 
 Not his the mien of Christian priest. 
 
 But Druid's, from the grave released. 
 
 Whose hardened heart and eye might brook 
 
 On human sacrifice to look ; 
 
 And much, 'twas said, of heathen lore 
 
 Mix'd in the charms he mutter'd o'er. 80 
 
 The hallow'd creed gave only worse 
 
 And deadlier emphasis of curse ; 
 
 No peasant sought that Hermit's prayer, 
 
 His cave the pilgrim shunn'd with care, 
 
 The eager huntsman knew his bound. 
 
 And in mid chase call'd off his hound ; 
 
 Or if, in lonely glen or strath, 
 
 The desert-dweller met his path. 
 
 He pray'd, and sign'd the cross between. 
 
 While terror took devotion's mien. 90 
 
 V. 
 
 Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. 
 His mother watch'd a midnight fold. 
 
84 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Built deep within a dreary glen^ 
 
 Where scattered lay the bones of men, 
 
 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 fetter'd there the hand, 
 
 Which once could burst an iron band ; 100 
 
 Beneath the broad and ample bone. 
 
 That buckler'd heart to fear unknown, 
 
 A feeble and a timorous guest, 
 
 The field-fare framed her lowly nest ; 
 
 There the slow blind-worm left his slime 
 
 On the fleet limbs, that mock'd at time ; 
 
 And there, too, lay the leader's skull. 
 
 Still wreath'd with chaplet, flush'd and full, 
 
 For heath-bell, with her purple bloom. 
 
 Supplied the bonnet and the plume. 110 
 
 All night, in this sad glen, the maid 
 
 Sate, shrouded in her mantle's shade ; 
 
 — She said, no shepherd sought her side, 
 
 No hunter's hand her snood untied, 
 
 Yet ne'er again to braid her hair 
 
 The virgin snood did Alice wear ; 
 
 Gone was her maiden glee and sport. 
 
 Her maiden girdle all too short, 
 
 Nor sought she, from that fatal night. 
 
THE GATHERING, 85 
 
 Or holy church or blessed rite, 120 
 
 But locked her secret in her breast, 
 And died in travail, unconfess'd. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Alone, among his young compeers, 
 
 Was Brian from his infant years ; 
 
 A moody and heart-broken boy. 
 
 Estranged from sympathy and joy, 
 
 Bearing each taunt which careless tongue 
 
 On his mysterious lineage flung. 
 
 Whole nights he spent by moonlight pale. 
 
 To wood and stream his hap to wail, 130 
 
 Till, frantic, he as truth received 
 
 What of his birth the crowd believed, 
 
 And sought, in mist and meteor fire. 
 
 To meet and know his Phantom Sire ! 
 
 In vain, to soothe his wayward fate. 
 
 The cloister oped her pitying gate ; 
 
 In vain, the learning of the age 
 
 Unclasp'd the sable-letter'd page ; 
 
 Even in its treasures he could find 
 
 Eood for the fever of his mind. 140 
 
 Eager he read whatever tells 
 
 Of magic, cabala, and spells. 
 
 And every dark pursuit allied 
 
 To curious and presumptuous pride ; 
 
86 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Till^ with fired brain and nerves o'erstrung, 
 And heart with mystic horrors wrung, 
 Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, 
 And hid him from the haunts of men. 
 
 VIL 
 
 The desert gave him visions wild, 
 
 Such as might suit the spectre's child. 150 
 
 Where with black cliffs the torrents toil, 
 
 He watch'd the wheeling eddies boil, 
 
 Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes 
 
 Beheld the Eiver Demon rise ; 
 
 The mountain mist took form and limb. 
 
 Of noontide hag, or goblin grim ; 
 
 The midnight wind came wild and dread, 
 
 S weird with the voices of the dead ; 
 
 Far on the future battle-heath 
 
 His eye beheld the ranks of death : 160 
 
 Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurl'd, 
 
 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 lineage came. 
 
 Late had he heard, in prophet's dream, 
 
 The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream ; 
 
 Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast. 
 
THE GATHERING, 87 
 
 Of charging steeds, careering fast 170 
 
 Along Benharrow's shingly side, 
 
 Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride ; 
 
 The thunderbolt had split the pine, — 
 
 All augur'd ill to Alpine's line. 
 
 He girt his loins, and came to show 
 
 The signals of impending woe. 
 
 And now stood prompt to bless or ban. 
 
 As bade the Chieftain of his clan. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 'Twas all prepared ; — and from the rock, 
 
 A goat, the patriarch of the flock, 180 
 
 Before the kindling pile was laid, 
 
 And pierced by Eoderick's ready blade. 
 
 Patient the sickening victim eyed 
 
 The life-blood ebb in crimson tide,. 
 
 Down his clogg'd beard and shaggy limb. 
 
 Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. 
 
 The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, 
 
 A slender crosslet form'd with care, 
 
 A cubit's length in measure due ; 
 
 The shaft and limbs were rods of yew, 190 
 
 Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave 
 
 Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave. 
 
 And, answering Lomond's breezes deep. 
 
 Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep. 
 
88 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 The Cross, thus form'd, he held on high, 
 With wasted hand, and haggard eye, 
 And strange and mingled feelings woke. 
 While his anathema he spoke : 
 
 IX. 
 
 '' Woe to the clansman, who shall view 
 
 This symbol of sepulchral yew, 200 
 
 Forgetful that its branches grew 
 
 Where weep the heavens their holiest dew 
 
 On Alpine's dwelling low ! 
 Deserter of his Chieftain's trust. 
 He ne'er shall mingle with their dust. 
 But, from his sires and kindred thrust, 
 Each clansman's execration just 
 
 Shall doom him wrath and woe.'^ 
 He paused ; — - the word the vassals took, 
 With forward step and fiery look, 210 
 
 On high their naked brands they shook, 
 Their clattering targets wildly strook ; 
 
 And first in murmur low. 
 Then, like the billow in his course. 
 That far to seaward finds his source. 
 And flings to shore his muster'd force. 
 Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarse, 
 
 ^^ Woe to the traitor, woe ! '^ 
 Ben-an's gray scalp the accents knew. 
 
THE GATHERING. 89 
 
 The joyous wolf from covert drew, 220 
 
 The exulting eagle scream'd 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 flame ; 
 
 And the few words that reached the air. 
 
 Although the holiest name was there. 
 
 Had more of blasphemy than prayer. 
 
 But when he shook above the crowd 230 
 
 Its kindled points, he spoke aloud : 
 
 ^^Woe to the wretch who fails to rear 
 
 At this dread sign the ready spear ! 
 
 For, as the flames this symbol sear. 
 
 His home, the refuge of his fear, 
 
 A kindred fate shall know ; 
 Far o'er its roof the volumed flame 
 Clan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim, 
 While maids and matrons on his name 
 Shall call down wretchedness and shame, 240 
 
 And infamy and woe." — 
 Then rose the cry of females, shrill 
 As goss-hawk's whistle on the hill, 
 Denouncing misery and ill, 
 
90 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 Mingled with childhood's babbling trill 
 
 Of curses stammer'd slow ; 
 Answering, Avith imprecation dread, 
 " Sunk be his home in embers red ! 
 And cursed be the meanest shed 
 That e'er shall hide the houseless head 250 
 
 We doom to want and woe ! '^ 
 A sharp and shrieking echo gave, 
 Coir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave ! 
 And the gray pass where birches wave 
 
 On Beala-nam-bo. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Then deeper paused the priest anew, 
 
 And hard his laboring breath he drew. 
 
 While, with set teeth and clenched hand, 
 
 And eyes that glow'd like fiery brand, 
 
 He meditated curse more dread, 260 
 
 And deadlier, on the clansman's head. 
 
 Who, summon'd to his Chieftain's aid 
 
 The signal saw and disobey'd. 
 
 The crosslet's points of sparkling wood. 
 
 He quench'd among the bubbling blood, 
 
 And, as again the sign he rear'd. 
 
 Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard : 
 
 " When flits this Cross from man to man, 
 
 Vich- Alpine's summons to his clan, 
 
THE GATHERING. 91 
 
 Burst be the ear that fails to heed ! 270 
 
 Palsied the foot that shuns to speed ! 
 
 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 hearth! 
 
 As dies in hissing gore the spark, 
 
 Quench thou his light, Destruction dark ! 
 
 And be the grace to him denied, 
 
 Bought by this sign to all beside ! '^ 
 
 He ceased ; no echo gave agen 280 
 
 The murmur of the deep Amen. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then Eoderick, with impatient look, 
 
 From Brian's hand' the symbol took : 
 
 '' Speed, Malise, speed ! '' he said, and gave 
 
 The crosslet to his henchman brave. 
 
 " The muster-place be Lanrick mead — 
 
 Instant the time — ■ speed, Malise, speed ! '' 
 
 Like heath-bird, Avhen the hawks pursue, 
 
 A barge across Loch Katrine flew ; . 
 
 High stood the henchman on the prow, 290 
 
 So rapidly the barge-men row. 
 
 The bubbles, where they launched the boat. 
 
 Were all unbroken and afloat, 
 
 Dancing in foam and ripple still. 
 
92 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 When it had near'd the mainland hill ; 
 And from the silver beach's side 
 Still was the prow three fathom wide 
 When lightly bounded to the land 
 The messenger of blood and brand. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Speed, Malise, speed ! the dun deer's hide 300 
 
 On fleeter foot was never tied. 
 
 Speed, Malise, speed ! such cause of haste 
 
 Thine active sinews never braced. 
 
 Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast, 
 
 Burst down like torrent from its crest ; 
 
 With short and springing footstep pass 
 
 The trembling bog and false morass ; 
 
 Across the brook like roebuck bound, 
 
 And thread the brake like questing hound ; 
 
 The crag is high, the scaur is deep, 310 
 
 Yet shrink not from the desperate leap : 
 
 Parch'd are thy burning lips and brow. 
 
 Yet by the fountain pause not now ; 
 
 Herald of battle, fate, and fear. 
 
 Stretch onward in thy fleet career ! 
 
 The wounded hind thou track' st not now, 
 
 Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough, 
 
 Nor pliest thou now thy flying pace, 
 
 With rivals in the mountain race ; 
 
THE GATHERING. 93 
 
 But danger, death, and warrior deed, 230 
 
 Are in thy course — speed, Malise, speed ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Fast as the fatal symbol flies, 
 
 In arms the huts and hamlets rise ; 
 
 From winding glen, from upland brown, 
 
 They pour'd each hardy tenant down. 
 
 Nor slacked the messenger his pace ; 
 
 He show'd the sign, he named the place, 
 
 And, pressing forward like the wind. 
 
 Left clamor and surprise behind. 
 
 The fisherman forsook the strand, 330 
 
 The swarthy smith took dirk and brand ; 
 
 With changed cheer, the mower blithe 
 
 Left in the half-cut swathe the scythe ; 
 
 The herds without a keeper stray'd, 
 
 The plough was in mid-furrow stay'd, 
 
 The falc'ner toss'd his hawk away. 
 
 The hunter left the stag at bay ; 
 
 Prompt at the signal of alarms. 
 
 Each son of Alpine rush'd to arms ; 
 
 So swept the tumult and affray 340 
 
 Along the margin of Achray. 
 
 Alas, thou lovely lake ! that e'er 
 
 Thy banks should echo sounds of fear ! 
 
 The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep 
 
94 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 So stilly on tliy bosom deep, 1 
 
 The lark's blithe carol, from the cloud, \ 
 
 Seems for the scene too gail'^ loud. • 
 
 XV. ] 
 
 i 
 
 Speed, Malise, speed ! The lake is past, 
 Duncraggan's huts appear at last. 
 
 And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, 350 ; 
 
 Half hidden in the copse so green ; ' 
 
 There mayst thou rest, thy labor done, ' 
 
 i 
 
 Their Lord shall speed the signal on. — \ 
 
 As stoops the hawk upon his- prey. 
 
 The henchman shot him down the way. ; 
 
 — AVhat w^oful accents load the gale ? ] 
 
 The funeral yell, the female wail ! • 
 
 A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, 
 
 A valiant warrior fights no more. ! 
 
 Who, in the battle or the chase, 360 ! 
 
 At Roderick's side shall fill his place ! — | 
 
 Within the hall, where torches' ray 
 
 Supplies the excluded beams of day. 
 
 Lies Duncan on his lowly bier. 
 
 And o'er him streams his widow's tear. i 
 
 His stripling son stands mournful by, - ] 
 
 His youngest weeps, but knows not Avhy ; J 
 
 The village maids and matrons round ' 
 
 The dismal coronach resound. 
 
THE GATHERING. 95 ] 
 
 J 
 
 \ 
 
 XXI. - ' ^ 
 
 i 
 
 Coronach, \ 
 
 He is gone on the mountain, 370 
 
 He is lost to the forest, \ 
 
 Like a summer-dried fountain, i 
 
 When our need was the sorest. \' 
 
 The font, reappearing, ^ '^ 
 
 From the raindrops shall borrow, : 
 
 But to us comes no cheering, i 
 
 To Duncan no morrow ! - 
 
 The hand of the reaper \ 
 
 Takes the ears that are hoary, \ 
 
 But the voice of the weeper 380 : 
 
 Wails manhood in glory. 
 
 The autumn winds rushing \ 
 
 Wafts the leaves that are searest, \ 
 But our flower was in flushing. 
 
 When blighting was nearest. \ 
 
 Elect foot on the correi, ] 
 
 Sage counsel in cumber, \ 
 
 Red hand in the foray, j 
 
 How sound is thy slumber ! i 
 
 Like the dew on the mountain, 390 \ 
 
 Like the foam on the river, ■ 
 Like the bubble on the fountain 
 
 Thou art gone, and forever ! 
 
96 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 See Stumahj 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, 400 
 
 Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead. 
 
 But headlong haste, or deadly fear. 
 
 Urge the precipitate career. 
 
 All stand aghast : — ■ unheeding all, 
 
 The henchman bursts into the hall ; 
 
 Before the dead man's bier he stood ; 
 
 Held forth the Cross besmear'd with blood ; 
 
 '^ The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; 
 
 Speed forth the signal ! clansmen, speed ! " 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Angus, the heir of Duncan's line, 410 
 
 Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. 
 
 In haste the stripling to his side 
 
 His father's dirk and broadsword tied ; 
 
 But when he saw his mother's eye 
 
 Watch him in speechless agony, 
 
 Back to her open'd arms he flew, 
 
THE GATHERING, 97 
 
 Press'd on her lips a fond adieu — 
 
 " Alas ! '' she sobb'd, — '^ and yet be gone, 
 
 And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son ! " 
 
 One look he cast upon the bier, 420 
 
 Dash'd from his eye the gathering tear, 
 
 Breathed deep, to clear his laboring breast. 
 
 And toss'd aloft his bonnet crest, 
 
 Then, like the high-bred colt, when, freed, 
 
 First he essays his fire and speed. 
 
 He vanished, and o'er moor and moss 
 
 Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. 
 
 Suspended was the widow's tear. 
 
 While yet his footsteps she could hear ; 
 
 And when she mark'd the henchman's eye 430 
 
 Wet with unwonted sympathy, 
 
 '' Kinsman," she said, '^ his race is run, 
 
 That should have sped thine errand on ; 
 
 The oak has falPn, — the sapling bough 
 
 Is all Duncraggan's shelter now. 
 
 Yet trust I well, his duty done. 
 
 The orphan's God will guard my son. — 
 
 And you, in many a danger true, 
 
 At Duncan's hest your blades that drew, 
 
 To arms, and guard that orphan's head ! 440 
 
 Let babes and women wail the dead." 
 
 Then weapon-clang, and martial call, 
 
 Resounded through the funeral hall. 
 
98 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 While from the walls the attendant band 
 
 Snatch'd sword and targe, with hurried hand ; 
 
 And short and flitting energy 
 
 Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye, 
 
 As if the sounds to warrior dear 
 
 Might rouse her Duncan from his bier. 
 
 But faded soon that borrowed force ; 450 
 
 Grief claim'd his right, and tears their course. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, 
 
 It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. 
 
 O'er dale and hill the summons flew. 
 
 Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew ; 
 
 The tear that gathered in his eye 
 
 He left the mountain-breeze to dry ; 
 
 Until, where Teith's young waters roll. 
 
 Betwixt him and a wooded knoll, 
 
 That graced the sable strath with green, 460 
 
 The chapel of Saint Bride was seen. 
 
 Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge,. 
 
 But Angus paused not on the edge ; 
 
 Though the dark weaves danced dizzily. 
 
 Though reePd his sympathetic eye, 
 
 He dash'd amid the torrent's roar : 
 
 His right hand high the crosslet bore, 
 
 His left the pole-axe grasp'd, to guide 
 
THE GATHERING. 99- \ 
 
 And stay his footing in the tide. 
 
 He stumbled twice — the foam splash'd high, 470 I 
 
 With hoarser swell the stream raced by ; • 
 
 And had he f alPn, — for ever there, 
 
 Pare well Duncraggan's orphan heir! \ 
 
 But still, as if in parting life, ' \ 
 
 Firmer he grasp VI the Cross of strife, . \ 
 
 Until the opposing bank he gain'd, \ 
 
 And up the chapel pathway strain'd. i 
 
 XX. 
 
 A blithesome rout, that morning tide, \ 
 
 Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride. ; 
 
 Her troth Tombea's Mary gave 480 \ 
 
 To Norman, heir of Armandave, ^ 
 
 And, issuing from the Gothic arch, ■ 
 
 The bridal now resumed their march. ■ 
 
 In rude, but glad procession, came ' ] 
 
 Bonneted sire and coif-clad dame ; 1 
 
 And plaided youth, with jest and jeer, 1 
 
 Which snooded maiden would not hear : \ 
 
 And children, that, unwitting why, ■[ 
 Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry ; 
 
 And minstrels, that in measures vied 490 ] 
 
 Before the young and bonny bride, \ 
 
 Whose downcast eye and cheek disclose \ 
 
 The tear and blush of morninor rose. * 
 
100 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Witli virgin step^ and bashful hand, 
 She held the kerchief's snowy band ; 
 The gallant bridegroom by her side 
 Beheld his prize with victor's pride^ 
 And the glad mother in her ear 
 Was closely whispering word of cheer. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Who meets them at the churchyard gate ? 
 
 The messenger of fear and fate ! 
 
 Haste in his hurried accent lies. 
 
 And grief is swimming in his eyes. 
 
 All dripping from the recent flood, 
 
 Panting and travel-soiPd he stood, 
 
 The fatal sign of fire and sword 
 
 Held forth, and spoke the appointed word : 
 
 '^ The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; 
 
 Speed forth the signal ! ISTorman, speed !'^ 
 
 And must he change so soon the hand, 
 
 Just linked to his by holy band, 
 
 For the fell Cross of blood and brand ? 
 
 And must the day, so blithe that rose, 
 
 And promised rapture in the close. 
 
 Before its setting hour divide 
 
 The bridegroom from the plighted bride ? 
 
 fatal doom ! — it must ! it must ! 
 
THE GATHERING. 101 
 
 Clan-Alpine's cause, her Chieftain's trust, 
 
 Her summons dread, brook no delay ; 
 
 Stretch to the race — away ! away 1 520 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Yet slow he laid his plaid aside, 
 
 And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride^ 
 
 Until he saw the starting tear 
 
 Speak woe he might not stop to cheer ; 
 
 Then, trusting not a second look, 
 
 In haste he sped him ujj the brook, 
 
 Nor backward glanced, till on the heath 
 
 Where Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teith. 
 
 — What in the racer's bosom stirr'd ? 
 
 The sickening pang of hope deferred, ' 530 
 
 And memory, with a torturing train 
 
 Of all his morning visions vain. 
 
 Mingled with love's impatience, came 
 
 The manly thirst for martial fame ; 
 
 The stormy joy of mountaineers. 
 
 Ere yet they rush upon the spears ; 
 
 And zeal for Clan and Chieftain burning. 
 
 And hope, from well-fought field returning, 
 
 With war's red honors on his crest, 
 
 To clasp his Mary to his breast. 540 
 
 Stung by such thoughts, o'er bank and brae. 
 
 Like fire from flint he glanced away, 
 
102 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 AVhile high resolve^ and feeling strong, 
 Burst into voluntary song. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 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, 550 
 
 My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid ! 
 
 It will not waken me, Mary ! 
 
 I 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 ; 
 AVhen bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe. 
 His heart must be like bended bow, 
 
 His foot like arrow free, Mary. 560 
 
 A time will come with feeling fraught, 
 For, if I fall in battle fought. 
 Thy hapless lover's dying thought 
 
 Shall be a thought on thee, Mary. 
 
THE GATHERING. 103 
 
 And if return'd from conquered foes, 
 How blithely will the evening close. 
 How sweet the linnet sing repose, 
 
 To my young bride and me, Mary ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, 
 
 Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze, 570 
 
 Kushing, 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 coil 
 
 The sullen margin of Loch Voil, 
 
 Waked still Loch Doine, and to the source 
 
 Alarm'd, Balvaig, thy swampy course; 580 
 
 Thence southward turn'd its rapid road 
 
 Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad. 
 
 Till rose in arms each man might claim 
 
 A portion in Clan- Alpine's name, 
 
 Erom the gray 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. 
 
104 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Each valley, each sequestered glen^ 
 
 Muster'd its little horde of men, 590 
 
 That met as torrents from the height 
 
 In Highland dale 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 train'd to arms since life began, 
 
 Owning no tie but to his clan. 
 
 No oath, but by his chieftain's hand. 
 
 No law, but Roderick Dhu's command. 600 
 
 XXV. 
 
 That summer morn had Eoderick Dhu 
 
 Survey 'd the skirts of Be venue. 
 
 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 Graeme and Bruce, 
 
 In Eednock courts no horsemen wait, 
 
 No banner waved on Cardross gate. 
 
 On Duchray's towers no beacon shone, 
 
 Nor scared the herons from Loch Con; 610 
 
 All seem'd at peace. — Now wot ye why 
 
 The Chieftain, with such anxious eye, 
 
THE GATHERING, 105 
 
 Ere to the muster he repair, 
 
 This western frontier scanned with care ? — 
 
 In Benvenue's most darksome cleft, 
 
 A fair, though cruel, pledge was left ; 
 
 For Douglas, to his promise true. 
 
 That morning from the isle withdrew, 
 
 And in a deep sequestered dell 
 
 Had sought a low and lonely cell. 620 
 
 By many a bard, in Celtic tongue. 
 
 Has Coir-nan-Uriskin been sung ; 
 
 A softer name the Saxons gave, 
 
 And called the grot the Goblin Cave. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 It was a wild and strange retreat, 
 
 As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. 
 
 The dell, upon the mountain's crest, 
 
 Yawn'd like a gash on warrior's breast 
 
 Its trench had staid full many a rock, 
 
 Hurl'd by primeval earthquake shock 630 
 
 From Benvenue's gray summit wild, 
 
 And here, in random ruin piled. 
 
 They frown'd incumbent o'er the spot. 
 
 And form'd the rugged sylvan grot. 
 
 The oak and birch, with mingled shade, 
 
 At noontide there a twilight made, 
 
106 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Unless when short and sudden shone 
 
 Some straggling beam on cliff or stone, 
 
 With such a glimpse as prophet's eye 
 
 Gains on thy depth, Futurity. 640 
 
 No murmur waked the solemn still, 
 
 Save tinkling of a fountain rill ; 
 
 But when the wind chafed with the lake, 
 
 A sullen sound would upward break, 
 
 With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 
 
 The incessant war of wave and rock. 
 
 Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway, 
 
 Seem'd nodding o'er the cavern gray. 
 
 From such a den the wolf had sprung. 
 
 In such the wildcat leaves her young ; 650 
 
 Yet Douglas and his daughter fair 
 
 Sought for a space their safety there. 
 
 Gray Superstition's whisper dread 
 
 Debarred the spot to vulgar tread ; 
 
 For there, she said, did fays resort. 
 
 And satyrs hold their sylvan court. 
 
 By moonlight tread the mystic maze. 
 
 And blast the rash beholder's gaze. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Now eve, with western shadows long. 
 
 Floated on Katrine bright and strong, 660 
 
THE GATHERING. 107 
 
 When Eoderick, with a chosen few, \ 
 
 K-epass'd the heights of Benvenue. j 
 
 Above the Goblin-cave they go, i 
 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 w^ay \ 
 
 To view the passes of Achray, ] 
 
 And place his clansmen in array. . ' 
 Yet lags the chief in musing mind, 670 
 
 Unwonted sight, his men behind. I 
 
 A single page, to bear his sword, . 
 
 Alone attended on his lord ; 1 
 
 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 neighboring height, 
 
 By the low-levelPd sunbeam's light ; - 
 
 For strength and stature, from the clan j 
 
 Each warrior was a chosen man, 680 \ 
 
 As even afar might well be seen, | 
 
 By their proud step and martial mien. \ 
 
 Their feathers dance, their tartans float, j 
 
 Their targets gleam, as by the boat i 
 A wild and warlike group they stand, , \ 
 That well became such mountain strand. 
 
108 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Their Chief, with step reluctant^ still 
 
 Was lingering on the craggy hill, 
 
 Hard by where turn'd apart the road 
 
 To Douglas's obscure abode. 690 
 
 It was but with that dawning morn 
 
 That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn 
 
 To drown his love in war's wild roar, 
 
 Xor 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 ! 
 
 Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost. 
 
 Still hovering near his treasure lost ; 700 
 
 For though his haughty heart deny 
 
 A parting meeting to his eye. 
 
 Still fondly strains his anxious ear, 
 
 The accents of her voice to hear, 
 
 And inly did he curse the breeze 
 
 That waked to sound the rustling trees. 
 
 But hark ! what mingles in the strain ? 
 
 It is the harp of Allan-bane, 
 
 That wakes its measure slow and high, 
 
 Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 710 
 
 What melting voice attends the strings ? 
 'Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings. 
 
 9 
 
THE GATHERING, 109 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Hymn to the Virgin, 
 
 Ave Maria I maiden mild ! 
 
 Listen to a maiden's prayer ! 
 Thou canst hear though from the wild, 
 
 Thou canst save amid despair. 
 Safe may we sleep beneath thy care, 
 
 Though banish'd, outcast, and reviled — 
 Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer ; 
 
 Mother, hear a suppliant child ! 720 
 
 Ave Maria I 
 
 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 ! hear a maiden's prayer, 
 
 Mother, list a suppliant child ! 
 
 Ave Maria I 
 
 Ave Maria ! Stainless styled ! 
 
 Foul demons of the earth and air, 730 
 
 From this their wonted haunt exiled. 
 
 Shall flee before thy presence fair. 
 
110 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 Ave Maria I 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Died on the harp the closing hymn — 
 
 Unmoved in attitude and limb, 
 
 As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lord 
 
 Stood leaning on his heavy sword, 740 
 
 Until the page, with humble 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 mutter'd thrice, — '^ the last time e'er 
 
 That angel-voice shall Roderick hear ! " 
 
 It was a goading thought — his stride 
 
 Hied hastier down the mountain-side ; 
 
 Sullen he flung him in the boat, 
 
 An instant 'cross the lake it shot. 750 
 
 They landed in that silvery bay. 
 
 And eastward held their hasty way, 
 
 Till, with the latest beams of light, 
 
 The band arrived on Lanrick height, 
 
 Where muster'd in the vale below 
 
 Clan-Alpine's men in martial show. 
 
THE GATHERING, 111 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 A various scene the clansmen made, 
 Some sate, some stood, some slowly stray'd ; 
 But most, with mantles folded round, 
 Were couch'd to rest upon the ground, 760 
 
 Scarce to be known by Qurious eye. 
 From the deep heather where they lie. 
 So well was match'd the tartan screen 
 •With heath-bell dark and brackens green ; 
 Unless where, here and there, a blade. 
 Or lance's point, a glimmer made. 
 Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade. 
 But when, advancing through the gloom. 
 They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume. 
 Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 770 
 
 Shook the steep mountain's steady side. 
 Thrice it arose, and lake and fell 
 Three times return'd the martial yell ; 
 It died upon Bochastle's plain. 
 And Silence claim'd her evening reign. 
 
112 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FOUETH. 
 
 The Prophecy. 
 I. 
 
 " The rose is fairest wnen ^tis budding new, 
 
 And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears ; 
 The rose is sweetest wash'd with morning dew, 
 
 And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears. 
 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. 
 
 Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, 10 
 
 Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue. 
 
 All while he stripped the wild-rose spra}^. 
 
 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, 
 
THE PROPHECY. 113 
 
 And instant to his arms he sprung. 
 
 " Stand, or thou diest ! — What, Malise ? — soon 
 
 Art thou returned from Braes of Doune. 
 
 By thy keen step and glance I know 20 
 
 Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe. " — 
 
 (For while the Fiery Cross hied on, 
 
 On distant scout had Malise gone.) 
 
 ^^ Where sleeps the Chief ? " the henchman said. 
 
 ^^ Apart, in yonder misty glade ; 
 
 To his lone couch I'll be your guide.'' — 
 
 Then calPd a slumberer by his side. 
 
 And stirr'd him with his slackened bow — 
 
 " Up, up, Glentarkin ! rouse thee, ho ! 
 
 We seek the Chieftain ; on the track, 30 
 
 Keep eagle watch till I come back.'' 
 
 III. 
 
 Together up the pass they sped : 
 
 '' What of the foemen ? " Norman said. — 
 
 " Varying reports from near and far ; 
 
 This certain, — that a band of war 
 
 Has for two days been ready boune, 
 
 At prompt command, to march from Doune; 
 
 King James, the while, with princely powers, 
 
 Holds revelry in Stirling towers. 
 
 Soon will this dark and gathering cloud 40 
 
114 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Speak on our glens in thunder loud. 
 
 Inured to bide such bitter bout, 
 
 The warrior's plaid may bear it out ; 
 
 But, Norman, how wilt thou provide 
 
 A shelter for thy bonny bride ? '' — 
 
 '^ What ! know ye 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, 50 
 
 Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge. 
 
 Upon these lakes shall float at large. 
 
 But all beside the islet moor. 
 
 That such dear pledge may rest secure ? '' — 
 
 IV. 
 
 '^ 'Tis well advised — the Chieftain's plan 
 
 Bespeaks the father of his clan. 
 
 But wherefore sleeps Sir Eoderick Dhu 
 
 Apart from all his followers true ? " — 
 
 '' It is, because last evening-tide 
 
 Brian an augury hath tried, GO 
 
 Of that dread kind which must not be 
 
 Unless in dread extremity, 
 
 The Taghairm calPd ; by which, afar, 
 
 Our sires foresaw the events of war. 
 
 Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew." 
 
THE PROPHECY. 115 
 
 MALISE. 
 
 ^^Ah ! well the gallant brute I knew. 
 
 The choicest of the prey we hacl^ 
 
 When swept our merry-men Gallangad. 
 
 His hide was snow, his horns were dark, 
 
 His red eye glow'd like fiery spark ; 70 
 
 So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet. 
 
 Sore did he cumber our retreat. 
 
 And kept our stoutest kernes in awe. 
 
 Even at the pass of Beal 'maha. 
 
 But steep and flinty was the road. 
 
 And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad. 
 
 And when we came to Dennan's Eow, 
 
 A child might scatheless stroke his brow.'' — 
 
 NORMAN. 
 
 " That bull was slain : his reeking hide 
 
 They stretch'd the cataract beside, 80 
 
 Whose 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 shelf beneath its brink, 
 
 Close where the thundering torrents sink, 
 
 Eocking beneath their headlong sway. 
 
116 . THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, 
 
 Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream, 
 
 The wizard waits prophetic dream. 90 
 
 Nor distant rests the Chief ; — but hush ! 
 
 See, gliding slow through mist and bush, 
 
 The hermit gains yon rock, and stands 
 
 To gaze upon our slumbering bands. 
 
 Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost. 
 
 That hovers o'er a slaughtered host ? 
 
 Or raven on the blasted oak. 
 
 That, watching while the deer is broke, 
 
 His morsel claims with sullen croak ? '^ 
 
 MALISE. 
 
 — '' Peace ! peace ! to other than to me, lOO 
 
 Thy words were evil augury ; 
 But still I hold Sir Eoderick's blade 
 , Clan-Alpine's omen and her aid, 
 
 Not aught that, gleam'd from heaven or hell. 
 Yon fiend-begotten Monk can tell. 
 The Chieftain joins him, see — and now, 
 Together they descend the brow.'' 
 
 VI. 
 
 And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord 
 
 The Hermit Monk held solemn word : 
 
 '^ Eoderick ! it is a fearful strife, lio 
 
THE PBOPHECY. 117 
 
 For man endowed with mortal life, 
 Whose shroud of sentient clay can still 
 Feel feverish pang and fainting chill, 
 Whose eye can stare in stony trance, 
 Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance, 
 'Tis hard for such to view, unfurPd, 
 The curtain of the future world. 
 Yet, witness every quaking limb, 
 My sunken pulse, my eyeballs dim. 
 My soul with harrowing anguish torn, 120 
 
 This for my Chieftain have I borne ! — 
 The shapes that sought my fearful couch, \ 
 
 An 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. j 
 
 At length the fateful answer came, j 
 
 In characters of living flame ! ! 
 
 Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll, 130 ' 
 
 ^ But borne and branded on my soul ; — 
 Which spills the fokemost foeman's life. 
 That party conquers in the strife." — i 
 
 i 
 
 VII. i 
 
 'I 
 
 " Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care ! 'l 
 
 Good is thine augury, and fair. . \ 
 
118 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood^ 
 
 But first our broadswords tasted blood. 
 
 A surer victim still I know, 
 
 Self-offer'd to the auspicious blow : 
 
 A spy has sought my land this morn, — 140 
 
 No eve shall witness his return ! 
 
 My followers guard each pass's mouth, 
 
 To east^ to westward, and to south ; 
 
 Eed 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, Avho comes his news to show ! 
 
 Malise ! what tidings of the foe ? '^ 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive 150 
 
 Two Barons proud their banners wave. 
 
 I saw the Moray's silver star, 
 
 And mark'd the sable pale of Mar." — 
 
 " By Alpine's soul, high tidings those ! 
 
 I love to hear of worthy foes. 
 
 When move they on ? " — " To-morrow's noon 
 
 Will see them here for battle boune." — 
 
 '' Then shall it see a meeting stern ! — 
 
 But, for the place — say, couldst thou learn 
 
 Naught of the friendly clans of Earn ? 160 
 
THE PROPHECY. 119 
 
 Strengthened by them^ we well might bide 
 
 The battle on Benledi's side. 
 
 Thou couldst not ? — well ! Clan-Alpine's men 
 
 Shall man the Trosachs' shaggy glen ; 
 
 Within Loch Katrine's gorge we'll fight, 
 
 All in our maids' and matrons' sight, 
 
 Each for his hearth and household fire, 
 
 Father for child, and son for sire, — 
 
 Lover for maid beloved ! — But why — 
 
 Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 170 
 
 Or dost thou come, ill-omen'd tear ! 
 
 A messenger of doubt or fear ? 
 
 No ! sooner may the Saxon lance 
 
 Unfix Benledi from his stance. 
 
 Than doubt or terror can pierce through 
 
 The unyielding heart of Eoderick Dhu ! 
 
 'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe. — 
 
 Each to his post ! — all know their charge. '^ 
 
 The pibroch sounds, the bands advance, 
 
 The broadswords gleam, the banners dance, 180 
 
 Obedient to the Chieftain's glance. — 
 
 I turn me from the martial roar. 
 
 And seek Coir-Uriskin once more. 
 
 IX. 
 
 AVhere is the Douglas ? — he is gone ; 
 And Ellen sits on the gray stone 
 
120 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Fast by the cave; and makes her moan ; 
 
 While vainly Allan's words of cheer 
 
 Are pour'd on her unheeding ear. — 
 
 '^ He will return — Dear lady^ trust ! — 
 
 With joy return ; — he will — he must. 190 
 
 Well was it time to seek, afar, 
 
 Some refuge 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 livelong yesternight, 
 
 Shifting like flashes darted forth 
 
 By the red streamers of the north ; 
 
 I mark'd at morn how close they ride, 
 
 Thick moor'd by the lone islet's side, 200 
 
 Like wild ducks couching in the fen. 
 
 When stoops the hawk upon the glen. 
 
 Since this rude race dare not abide 
 
 The peril on the mainland side. 
 
 Shall not thy noble father's care 
 
 Some safe retreat for thee prepare ? " — 
 
 X. 
 
 ELLEN". 
 
 No, Allan, no . Pretext so kind 
 My wakeful terrors could not blind. 
 
THE PROPHECY. 121 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 When ill such tender tone, yet grave, \ 
 
 Douglas a parting blessing gave, 210 
 
 The tear that glistened in his eye \ 
 
 Drowned not his purpose fix'd on high. i 
 
 My soul, though feminine and weak, ^ 
 
 Can image his ; e'en as the lake, | 
 
 Itself disturbed by slightest stroke, j 
 
 Eeflects the invulnerable rock. ■ 
 
 He hears report of battle rife. 
 
 He deems himself the cause of strife. , 
 
 I saw him redden, when the theme 
 
 Turn'd, Allan, on thine idle dream 220 
 
 Of Malcolm Graeme, in fetters bound, ■ 
 
 Which I, thou saidst, about him wound. l 
 
 Think' st thou he trow'd thine omen aught ? \ 
 
 Oh no ! 'twas apprehensive thought I 
 
 For the kind youth, — for Eoderick 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 solemn warning given, '■■ 
 
 ' If not on earth, we meet in heaven ' ? 230 
 
 Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane, : 
 
 If eve return him not again, \ 
 
 Am I to hie, and make me known ? i 
 
 Alas ! he goes to Scotland's throne, | 
 
 Buys his friend's safety with his own ; — ' 
 
122 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 He goes to do — what I had done, 
 Had Douglas' daughter been his son ! '' 
 
 XL 
 
 " Najj lovely Ellen ! — dearest, nay ! 
 
 If aught should his return delay, 
 
 He only named yon holy fane 240 
 
 As fitting place to meet again. 
 
 Be sure he's safe ; and for the Graeme, 
 
 Heaven's blessing on his gallant name ! — 
 
 My vision' d 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 presaged this approaching woe ! 
 
 Sooth was my prophecy of fear ; 250 
 
 Believe it when it augurs cheer. 
 
 Would we had left this dismal spot ! 
 
 Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot. 
 
 Of such a wondrous tale I know — 
 
 Dear lady, change that look of woe. 
 
 My harp was wont thy grief to cheer." — 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 '' Well, be it as thou wilt ; I hear, 
 But cannot stop the bursting tear." 
 
THE PROPHECY, 123 
 
 The Minstrel tried his simple art, 
 
 But distant far was Ellen's heart. 260 
 
 XII. 
 
 Ballad, 
 
 ALICE BRAND. 
 
 Merry it is in the good greenwood, 
 
 When the mavis and merle are singing, 
 
 When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry. 
 And the hunter's horn is ringing. 
 
 '' Alice Brand, my native land 
 
 Is lost for love of you ; 
 And we must hold by wood and wold, 
 
 As outlaws Avont to do. 
 
 " Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright. 
 
 And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, 270 
 
 That on the night of our luckless flight, 
 Thy brother bold I slew. 
 
 " Now must I teach to hew the beech, " 
 
 The hand that held the glaive, 
 Eor leaves to spread our lowly bed. 
 
 And stakes to fence our cave. 
 
124 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 " 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.^' 280 
 
 " Eichard ! 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. 
 As warm, we'll say, is the russet gray. 
 
 As gay the forest-green, 
 
 " And, Richard, if our lot be hard, 
 
 And lost thy native land, 290 
 
 Still Alice has her own Richard, 
 
 And he his Alice Brand. '^ 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Ballad Continued. 
 
 'Tis merry* 'tis merry, in good greenwood. 
 
 So blithe Lady Alice is singing ; 
 On the beech's pride, and the oak's brown side, 
 
 Lord Richard's axe is ringing. 
 
THE PROPHECY. 125 
 
 Up spoke the moody Elfin King, 
 
 Who won'd within the hill, — 
 Like wind in the porch of a ruin'd church, 
 
 His voice was ghostly shrill. 300 
 
 " Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak, 
 
 Our moonlight circle's screen ? 
 Or who comes here to chase the deer. 
 
 Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? 
 Or who may dare on wold to wear 
 
 The fairies' fatal green ? 
 
 '' Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie, 
 
 For thou wert christened man ; 
 For cross or sign thou wilt not fiy. 
 
 For mutter'd word or ban. 310 
 
 " Lay on him the curse of the withered heart, 
 
 The curse of the sleepless eye ; 
 Till he wish and pray that his life would part. 
 
 Not yet find leave to die.'^ 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Ballad Continued. 
 
 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood. 
 Though the birds have stilFd their singing ; 
 
 The evening blaze doth Alice raise. 
 And Eichard is fagots bringing. 
 
126 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, 
 
 Before Lord Eichard stands, 320 
 
 And, as he cro^s'd and bless'd himself, 
 " I fear not sign,'' quoth the grisly elf, 
 
 "That is made with bloody hands/' 
 
 But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 
 
 That woman void of fear, — 
 '' And if there's blood upon his hand, 
 
 'Tis but the blood of deer." — 
 
 '' Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood ! 
 
 It cleaves unto his hand. 
 The. stain of thine own kindly blood, 330 
 
 The blood of Ethert Brand." — 
 
 Then forward stepp'd she, Alice Brand, 
 
 And made the holy sign, — 
 '' And if there's blood on Eichard'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 ? " 
 
THE PROPHECY. 127 ^ 
 
 XV. " ] 
 
 Ballad Continued. \ 
 
 " ^Tis merry, ^tis merry, in Fairy-land, 340 i 
 
 When fairy birds are singing, I 
 
 When the court doth ride by their monarch's side, | 
 
 With bit and bridle ringing : J 
 
 '' 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, i 
 
 Is our inconstant shape, \ 
 
 Who now like knight and lady seem, 350 | 
 
 And now like dwarf and ape. j 
 
 •i 
 
 " It was between the night and day, i 
 
 When the Fairy King has power, \ 
 
 That I sunk down in a sinful fray, j 
 
 And, 'twixt life and death, was snatch'd 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." — ■ 360 j 
 
128 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. | 
 
 She crossed him once — she cross'd him twice — 3 
 
 That lady was so brave ; i 
 
 The fouler grew his goblin hue, \ 
 
 The darker grew the cave. ^ 
 
 i 
 
 She cross'd him thrice, that lady bold ; | 
 
 He rose beneath her hand ] 
 
 The fairest knight on Scottish mold, j 
 
 Her brother, Ethert Brand ! i 
 
 \ 
 1 
 
 Merry it is in good greenwood, ; 
 
 When the mavis and merle are singing, 370 
 
 But merrier were they in Dunfermline gray, i 
 
 When all the bells were ringing. \ 
 
 xvi. ; 
 
 Just as the minstrel sounds were staid, ^ 
 
 A stranger climb'd the steepy glade ; 1 
 
 His martial step, his stately mien, 1 
 
 His hunting suit of Lincoln green, j 
 
 His eagle glance, remembrance claims — 
 
 ^Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'tis James Fitz-James. \ 
 
 Ellen beheld as in a dream, ] 
 
 Then, starting, scarce suppress'd a scream : 380 i 
 
 '' stranger ! in such hour of fear, j 
 
 What evil hap has brought thee here ? '' 
 
 '' An evil hap how can it be, , ■ 
 
THE PROPHECY. 129 
 
 That bids me look again on thee ? 
 
 By promise bound, my former guide 
 
 Met me betimes this morning tide, 
 
 And marshalPd, over bank and bourne, 
 
 The happy path of my return.'^ — 
 
 '' The happy path ! — what ! said he nought 
 
 Of war, of battle to be fought, 390 
 
 Of guarded pass ? '^ — '' I^o, by my faith ! 
 
 Nor saw I aught could augur scathe/^ — 
 
 '' haste thee, Allan, to the kern : 
 
 Yonder his tartans I discern ; 
 
 Learn thou his purpose, and conjure 
 
 That he will guide the stranger sure ! — 
 
 What prompted thee, unhappy man ? 
 
 The meanest serf in Roderick's clan 
 
 Had not been bribed by love or fear. 
 
 Unknown to him, to guide thee here." — 400 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be. 
 
 Since it is worthy care from thee ; 
 
 Yet life I hold but idle breath. 
 
 When love or honor's weigh'd with death. 
 
 Then let me profit by my chance. 
 
 And speak my purpose bold at once. 
 
 I come to bear thee from a wild 
 
130 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Where ne'er before such blossom smiled ; 
 
 By this soft hand to lead thee far 
 
 From frantic scenes of feud and war. 410 
 
 ISTear-Bochastle my horses wait; 
 
 They bear us soon to Stirling gate. 
 
 I'll place thee in a lovely bower, 
 
 ni guard thee like a tender flower " — 
 
 '^ ! hush, Sir Knight ! 'twere female art, 
 
 To say I do not read thy heart ; 
 
 Too much, before, my selfish ear 
 
 Was idly soothed my praise to hear. 
 
 That fatal bait hath lured thee back, 
 
 In deathful hour, o'er dangerous track ; 420 
 
 And how, how, can I atone 
 
 The wreck m}^ vanity brought on ! — 
 
 One way remains — I'll tell him all — 
 
 Yes ! struggling bosom, forth it shall ! 
 
 Thou, whose light folly bears the blame, 
 
 Buy thine own pardon with thy shame ! 
 
 But first — my father is a man 
 
 Outlaw'd and exil'd, under ban ; 
 
 The price of blood is on his head. 
 
 With me 'twere infamy to wed. 430 
 
 Still would' st thou speak ? — then hear the truth ! 
 
 Fitz-James, there is a noble youth — 
 
 If yet he is ! — exposed for me 
 
 And mine to dread extremity — 
 
THE PROPHECY, 131 
 
 Thou liast the secret of my heart ; 
 Eorgive, be generous, and depart ! ^' 
 
 XVIIT. 
 
 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, 440 
 
 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 seal'd 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 proffer'd to attend her side, 450 
 
 As brother would a sister guide. — 
 
 ^^ ! little know'st thou Roderick's heart ! 
 
 Safer for both we go apart. 
 
 haste thee, and from Allan learn. 
 
 If thou may'st trust yon wily kern." 
 
 With hand upon his forehead laid. 
 
 The conflict of his mind to shade, 
 
 A parting step or two he made ; 
 
132 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Then, as some thought had crossed his brain, 
 He paus'd, and turned, and came again. 4G0 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Hear, lady, yet, a parting word ! — 
 
 It chanced in fight 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. 
 
 Ellen, I am no courtly lord. 
 
 But one who lives by lance and sword. 
 
 Whose castle is his helm and shield, 470 
 
 His lordship, the embattled field. 
 
 What from a prince can I demand. 
 
 Who neither reck of state nor land ? 
 
 Ellen, thy hand — the ring is thine ; 
 
 Each guard and usher knows the sign. 
 
 Seek thou the king without delay ; 
 
 This signet shall secure thy way ; 
 
 And claim thy suit, whatever it be. 
 
 As ransom of his pledge to me.''' — 
 
 He placed the golden circlet on, 480 
 
 Paused — kiss'd her hand — and then was gone. 
 
 The aged Minstrel stood aghast, 
 
 So hastily Fitz-James shot past. 
 
THE PROPHECY. 
 
 133 
 
 He join'd his guide, and wending down 
 The ridges of the mountain brown, 
 Across the stream they took their way, 
 That joins Loch Katrine to Achray. 
 
 XX. 
 
 All in the Trosachs' glen was still. 
 
 Noontide was sleeping on the hill : 
 
 Sudden his guide whooped loud and high — 490 
 
 " Murdoch ! was that a signal cry ? ^' — 
 
 He stammered forth, — ^^ I shout to scare 
 
 Yon raven from his dainty fare.^' 
 
 He look'd — he knew the raven's prey. 
 
 His own brave steed : — '' Ah ! gallant gray ! 
 
 Eor thee — for me, perchance — 'twere well 
 
 We ne'er had seen the Trosachs' dell. — 
 
 Murdoch, move first — but silently ; 
 
 Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die ! " — 
 
 Jealous and sullen on they fared, 500 
 
 Each silent, each upon his guard. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Now wound the path its dizzy ledge 
 Around a precipice's edge, 
 When lo ! a wasted female form. 
 Blighted by wrath of sun and storm, 
 In tatter'd weeds and wild array, 
 
134 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Stood on a cliff beside the way, 
 
 And glancing round her restless eye, 
 
 Upon the wood, the rock, the sky, 
 
 Seem'd nought to mark, yet all to spy. 5io 
 
 Her brow was wreath'd 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. 
 
 The tartan plaid she first descried. 
 
 And shriek'd till all the rocks replied ; 
 
 As loud she laugh' d when near they drew, 
 
 Eor then the Lowland garb she knew : 520 
 
 And then her hands she wildly wrung. 
 
 And then she wept, and then she sung. — 
 
 She sung ! — the voice, in better time. 
 
 Perchance to harp or lute might chime ; 
 
 And now, though strain' d and roughen'd, still 
 
 Eung wildly sweet to dale and hill. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Sonr/. 
 They bid me o.eep, they bid me pray. 
 
 They say my brain is warp'd and wrung — 
 I cannot sleep on Highland brae, 
 
 I cannot pray in Highland tongue. 530 
 
THE PBOPHEGY. 135 
 
 But were I now where Allan glides, 
 Or heard my native Devan's tides, 
 So sweetly would I rest, and pray 
 That Heaven would close my wintry day ! 
 
 'Twas thus my hair they bade me braid, 
 They made me to the church repair ; 
 
 It was my bridal morn they said, 
 
 And my true love would meet me there. 
 
 But woe betide the cruel guile. 
 
 That drown'd in blood the morning smile ! 540 
 
 And woe betide the fairy dream ! 
 
 I only waked to sob and scream. — 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Who 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, 550 
 
 When Koderick foray'd Devan-side. 
 
 The gay bridegroom resistance made. 
 
 And felt our Chief's unconquer'd blade. 
 
136 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 I marvel she is now at large, 
 
 But oft she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge. — 
 
 Hence, brain-sick fool ! " — He raised his bow : — 
 
 " Now, if thou strik'st her but one blow, 
 
 I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far 
 
 As ever peasant pitch'd a bar ! " — 
 
 " Thanks, champion, thanks ! " the Maniac cried, 
 
 And press'd her to Fitz-James's side 561 
 
 '' See the gray pennons I prepare. 
 
 To seek my true-love through the air ! 
 
 I will not lend that savage groom. 
 
 To break his fall, one downy plume ! 
 
 No ! — 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, 570 
 
 Meet signal for their revelry." — 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 ^^Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still ! " — 
 " ! 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. 
 
THE PEOPHECY. 137 
 
 '^ For my sweet William was forester true, 
 He stole poor Blanclie's heart away ! 
 
 His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, 580 
 
 And so blithely he trilPd the Lowland lay ! 
 
 " It was not that I meant to tell . . . 
 
 But thou art wise, and guessest well." 
 
 Then, in a low and broken tone. 
 
 And hurried note, the song went on. 
 
 Still on the clansman, fearfully. 
 
 She fix'd her apprehensive eye ; 
 
 Then tufn'd it on the Knight, and then 
 
 Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, 590 
 
 Ever sing merrily, merrily ; 
 The bows they bend, and the knives they whet. 
 
 Hunters live so cheerily. 
 
 " It was a stag, a stag of ten. 
 
 Bearing its branches sturdily ; 
 He came stately down the glen. 
 
 Ever sing hardily, hardily. 
 
 " It was there he met with a wounded doe, 
 
 She was bleeding deathfully ; 
 She warn'd him of the toils below, 600 
 
 so faithfully, faithfully ! 
 
138 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 ^' He had an eye, and he could heed, 
 
 Ever sing warily, warily ; 
 He had a foot, and he could speed — 
 
 Hunters watch so narrowly." — 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Fitz-James's mind was passiod-toss'd. 
 
 When Ellen's hints and fears were lost ; 
 
 But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought. 
 
 And Blanche's song conviction brought. 
 
 Not like a stag that spies the snare, 610 
 
 But lion of the hunt aware. 
 
 He waved at once his blade on high, 
 
 "Disclose thy treachery, or die !" — 
 
 Forth at full speed the Clansman flew, 
 
 But in his race his bow he drew. 
 
 The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest. 
 
 And thrill'd in Blanche's faded breast. — 
 
 Murdoch of Alpine ! prove thy speed. 
 
 For ne'er had Alpine's son such need ; 
 
 With heart of tire, and foot of wind, 620 
 
 The tierce avenger is behind ! 
 
 Fate judges of the rapid" strife 
 
 The forfeit death — the prize is life ; 
 
 Thy kindred ambush lies before. 
 
 Close couch'd upon the heathery moor ; 
 
 Them couldst thou reach ! — it may not be — 
 
THE PROPHECY. 139 
 
 Thine ambush'd kin thou ne'er shalt see, 
 
 The fiery Saxon gains on thee ! — 
 
 Resistless speeds the deadly thrust, 
 
 As lightning strikes the pine to dust ; 630 
 
 With foot and hand Eitz-James must strain 
 
 Ere he can win his blade again. 
 
 Bent o'er the falPn, with falcon eye, 
 
 He grimly smiled to see him die ; 
 
 Then slower wended back his way, 
 
 Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 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 ; 640 
 
 Her wreath of broom and feathers gray 
 
 Daggled with blood, beside her lay. 
 
 The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried, — 
 
 " Stranger, it is in vain ! '' she cried. 
 
 " This hour of death has given me more 
 
 Of reason's power than years before ; 
 
 For, as these ebbing veins decay, 
 
 My frenzied visions fade away. 
 
 A helpless injured w^retch I die. 
 
 And something tells me in thine eye, 650 
 
 That thou wert mine avenger born. — 
 
140 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Seest tliou this tress ? — ! still I've worn 
 
 Tliis little tress of yellow hair, 
 
 Through danger, frenzy, and despair ! 
 
 It once was bright and clear as thine, 
 
 But blood and tears have dimni'd 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, 660 
 
 Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain. 
 
 And thou wilt bring it me again. — 
 I waver still. — God ! more bright 
 Let reason beam her parting light ! — 
 ! by thy knighthood's honored sign. 
 And for thy life preserved by mine. 
 When thou shalt see a darksome man, 
 "Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's Clan, 
 With tartans broad and shadowy plume. 
 And hand of blood, and brow of gloom, 670 
 
 Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong. 
 And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wrong ! — 
 They watch for thee by pass and fell . . . 
 Avoid the path ... God ! . . . farewell." — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 A kindly heart had brave Fitz- James ; 
 Fast pour'd his eyes at pity's claims. 
 
THE PROPHECY. 141 
 
 And now, with mingled grief and ire, 
 
 He saw the murder'd maid expire. 
 
 ^^ God, in my need, be my relief. 
 
 As I wreak this on yonder Chief ! '^ 680 
 
 A lock from Blanche's tresses fair 
 
 He blended with her bridegroom's hair ; 
 
 The mingled braid in blood he dyed. 
 
 And placed it on his bonnet-side : 
 
 ^^ By Him whose word is truth, I swear, 
 
 No other favor will I wear. 
 
 Till this sad token I imbrue 
 
 In the best blood of Roderick Dhu ! — 
 
 But hark ! what means yon faint halloo ? 
 
 The chase is up, — but they shall know, 690 
 
 The stag at bay's a dangerous foe." 
 
 Barr'd from the known but guarded way. 
 
 Through copse and cliffs Fitz-James must stray. 
 
 And oft must change his desperate track. 
 
 By stream and precipice turn'd back. 
 
 Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length, 
 
 Erom lack of food and loss of strength, 
 
 He couch'd him in a thicket hoar. 
 
 And thought his toils and perils o'er : — 
 
 '' Of all my rash adventures past, 700 
 
 This frantic feat must prove the last ! 
 
 Who e'er so mad but might have guess 'd. 
 
 That all this Highland hornet's nest 
 
142 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Would muster up in swarms as soon 
 
 As e'er tliey heard of bands at Doune ? — 
 
 Like bloodhounds now they search me out, — 
 
 Harkj to the whistle and the shout ! — 
 
 If further through the wilds I go, 
 
 I only fall upon the foe : 
 
 I'll couch me here till evening gray, 710 
 
 Then darkling try my dangerous way.'' 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The shades of eve come slowly down, 
 
 The woods are wrapp'd in deeper brown. 
 
 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, 720 
 
 He climbs the crag and threads the brake ; 
 
 And not the summer solstice, there, 
 
 Temper 'd the m'dnight mountain air. 
 
 But every breeze that swept the wold 
 
 Benumb'd his drenched limbs with cold. 
 
 In dread, in danger, and alone, 
 
 Famish'd and chill'd, through ways unknown. 
 
 Tangled and steep, he journey 'd on ; 
 
THE PROPHECY. 143 
 
 Till, as a rock^s huge point he turned, 
 
 A watch-fire close before him burn'd. 730 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Beside its embers red and clear, 
 Bask'd, in his plaid, a mountaineer ; 
 . And up he sprang with sword in hand, — 
 " Thy name and purpose ! Saxon, stand ! '' 
 '' A stranger." — " What dost thou require ? " — 
 " Eest and a guide, and food and fire. 
 My life's beset, my path is lost. 
 The gale has chilPd my limbs with frost." 
 " Art thou a friend to Eoderick ? " — " No." — 
 " Thou darest not call thyself a foe ? " — 740 
 
 '' I dare ! to him and all the band 
 '' He brings to aid his murderous hand." 
 '^ Bold words ! — but, though the beast of 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 ? 
 Thus -treacherous scouts, — yet sure they lie. 
 Who say thou cam'st a secret spy ! " — 750 
 
 '' They do, by heaven ! — Come Eoderick Dhu, 
 And of his clan the boldest two, 
 And let me but till morning rest, 
 
144 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 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 may'st thou know 
 
 Each proud oppressor's mortal foe." — 
 
 '' Enough, enough ; sit down, and share 
 
 A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare." 760 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 He gave him of his Highland cheer, 
 
 The harden' d flesh of mountain deer ; 
 
 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 address'd : — 
 
 " Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu 
 
 A clansman born, a kinsman true ; 
 
 Each word against his honor spoke. 
 
 Demands of me avenging stroke ; 770 
 
 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, not for clan, nor kindred's cause. 
 
 Will I depart from honor's laws ; 
 
THE PROPHECY. 145 
 
 To assail a wearied man were shame, 
 
 And stranger is a holy name ; 780 
 
 Guidance and rest, and food and fire, 
 
 In vain he never must require. 
 
 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 ! '' — 790 
 
 " Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry 
 
 Sings us the lake's wild lullaby." — 
 
 With that he shook the gather'd heath, 
 
 And spread his plaid upon the wreath ; 
 
 And the brave foemen, side by side. 
 
 Lay peaceful down like brothers tried, 
 
 And slept until the dawning beam 
 
 Purpled the mountain and the stream. 
 
146 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 The Combat. 
 I. 
 
 Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light, \ 
 
 When first, by the bewilder'd pilgrim spied, ' 
 It smiles upon the dreary brow of night, 
 
 And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming ticje, \ 
 
 And lights the fearful path on mountain side ; — j 
 
 Fair as that beam, although the fairest far, \ 
 
 Giving to horror grace, to danger pride, j 
 
 Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star, ' 
 
 Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow • 
 
 of War. \ 
 
 II. I 
 
 That early beam, so fair and sheen, 10 j 
 
 Was twinkling through the hazel screen, I 
 
 When, rousing at its glimmer red, ' 
 
 The warriors left their lowly bed, \ 
 
 Look'd out upon the dappled sky, 
 
 Mutter' d their soldier matins by, ■ 
 
 And then awaked their fire, to steal. 
 
 As short and rude, their soldier meal. 1 
 
THE COMBAT. 147 
 
 That o'er, the Gael around him threw 
 
 His graceful plaid of varied hue, 
 
 And, true to promise, led the way, 20 
 
 By thicket green and mountain gray. 
 
 A wildering path ! — they winded now 
 
 Along the precipice's brow. 
 
 Commanding the rich scenes beneath. 
 
 The windings of the Forth and Teith, 
 
 And all the vales between that lie. 
 
 Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky ; 
 
 Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance 
 
 Gain'd not the length of horseman's lance. 
 
 'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 30 
 
 Assistance from the hand to gain ; 
 
 So tangled oft, that, bursting through. 
 
 Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew, — 
 
 That diamond dew, so pure and clear, 
 
 It rivals all but Beauty's tear 
 
 III. 
 
 At length they came where, stern 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, 40 
 
 Beneath steep bank and threatening stone ; 
 
 An hundred men might hold the. post, 
 
148 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 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 bright of bracken green, 
 
 And heather black, that waved so high. 
 
 It held the copse in rivalry. 
 
 But where the lake slept deep and still, 50 
 
 Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill 
 
 And oft both path and hill were torn, 
 
 Where wintry torrents down had borne. 
 
 And heap'd upon the cumber'd land 
 
 Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. 
 
 So toilsome was the road to trace, 
 
 The guide, abating of his pace. 
 
 Led slowly through the pass's jaws. 
 
 And ask'd Fitz- James by what strange cause 
 
 He sought these wilds, traversed by few, 60 
 
 Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. 
 
 IV. 
 
 '' Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, 
 Hangs in my belt, and by my side ; 
 Yet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said, 
 ^' I dream'd not now to claim its aid. 
 When here, but three days since, I came, 
 Bewilder'd in pursuit of game. 
 
THE COMBAT. 149 
 
 All seem'd as peaceful and as stilly 
 
 As the mist slumbering on yon hill ; 
 
 Thy dangerous Chief was then afar^ 70 
 
 Nor soon expected back from war. 
 
 Thus said, at least, my mountain-guide, 
 
 Though deep, perchance, the villain lied/' 
 
 " Yet why a second venture try ? '' — 
 
 " A warrior thou, and ask me why ! — 
 
 Moves our free course by such fix'd cause, 
 
 As gives the poor mechanic laws ? 
 
 Enough, I sought to drive away 
 
 The lazy hours of peaceful day ; 
 
 Slight cause will then suffice to guide 80 
 
 A Knight's free footsteps far and wide, — 
 
 A falcon flown, a greyhound stray'd, 
 
 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 naught of Lowland war, 
 
 Against Clan- Alpine rais'd by Mar ? " — 
 
 '^ No, by my words ; — of bands prepared 90 
 
 To guard King James's sports I heard ; 
 
 Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear 
 
150 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 This muster of the mountaineer, 
 
 Their pennons will abroad be flung, 
 
 Which else in Doune had peaceful hung/' — 
 
 '' Free be they flung ! for we were loth 
 
 Their silken folds should feast the moth. 
 
 Free be they flung ! — as free shall wave 
 
 Clan-Alpine's pine in banner brave. 
 
 But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, 100 
 
 Bewildered in the mountain game. 
 
 Whence the bold boast by which you show 
 
 Vich-Alpine's vow'd and mortal foe ? '' — 
 
 " Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew 
 
 Naught of thy Chieftain, Eoderick Dhu, 
 
 Save as an outlawed desperate man, 
 
 The chief of a rebellious clan. 
 
 Who, in the Regent's court and sight, 
 
 With ruffian dagger stabb'd a knight : 
 
 Yet this alone might from his part 110 
 
 Sever each true and loyal heart.'' — 
 
 VI. 
 
 Wrathful at such arraignment foul, 
 
 Dark lowered the clansman's sable scowl. 
 
 A space he paused, then sternly said, 
 
 " And heard'st thou why he drew his blade ? 
 
 Heard'st thou that shameful word and blow 
 
THE COMBAT. 151 
 
 Brought Eoderick's vengeance on his foe ? 
 
 What reck'd the Chieftain if he stood 
 
 On Highland heath or Holy-Rood ? 
 
 He rights such wrong where it is given, 120 
 
 If it were in the court of heaven.'^ — 
 
 " Still was it outrage ; — yet, 'tis true, 
 
 Not then claimed sovereignty his due ; 
 
 While Albany, with feeble hand, 
 
 Held borrowed truncheon of command. 
 
 The young King, mew'd in Stirling tower. 
 
 Was stranger to respect and power. 
 
 But then, thy Chieftain's robber life ! — 
 
 Winning mean prey by causeless strife. 
 
 Wrenching from ruin'd Lowland swain 130 
 
 His herds and harvest rear'd in vain, — 
 
 Methinks a soul like thine should scorn 
 
 The spoils from such foul foray borne.'' — 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Gael beheld him grim the while, 
 
 And answer'd with disdainful smile, — 
 
 '' Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
 
 I mark'd thee send delighted eye. 
 
 Far to the south and east, where lay. 
 
 Extended in succession gay. 
 
 Deep waving fields and pastures green, 140 
 
152 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 With gentle slopes and groves between : — 
 These fertile plains, that soften'd vale, 
 . Were once the birthright of the Gael ; 
 The stranger came with iron hand, 
 And from our fathers reft the land. 
 Where dwell we now ! See, rudely swell 
 Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. 
 Ask we this savage hill we tread 
 For fattened steer or household bread; 
 Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, 150 
 
 And well the mountain might reply, — 
 ' To you, as to your sires of yore. 
 Belong the target and claymore ! 
 I give you shelter in my breast. 
 Your own good blades must win the rest.' 
 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 the prey ? 
 Ay, by my soul ! — While on yon plain 160 
 
 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 
 
THE COMBAT. 153 ^ 
 
 ■J 
 
 Is aught but retribution true ? \ 
 
 Seek other cause Against Eoderick Dhu.^^ ; 
 
 VIII. j 
 
 Answered Fitz-James, — " And, if I sought, 170 
 
 Think' st thou no other could be brought ? 
 
 What deem ye of my path waylaid ? , j 
 
 My life given o'er to ambuscade ? '^ | 
 
 " As of a meed to rashness due : 
 
 Hadst thou sent warning fair and true, — \ 
 
 I seek my hound, or falcon stray'd, i 
 
 I seek, good faith, a Highland maid, — 
 
 Free hadst thou been to come and go ; i 
 
 But secret path marks secret foe. 
 
 Nor yet, for this, even as a spy, 180 
 
 Hadst thou, unheard, been doom'd 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. i 
 
 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 again, \ 
 
 I come with banner, brand, and bow, 190 | 
 
 As leader seeks his mortal foe. | 
 
 For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower, | 
 
154 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Ne'er panted for the 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 200 
 
 Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; 
 
 On right, on left, above, below, 
 
 Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 
 
 From shingles gray their lances start, 
 
 The bracken bush sends forth the dart, 
 
 The rushes and the willow-wand 
 
 Are bristling into axe and brand, 
 
 And every tuft of broom gives life 
 
 To plaided warrior arm'd for strife. 
 
 That whistle garrison'd the glen 210 
 
 At once with full five hundred men, 
 
 As if the yawning hill to heaven 
 
 A subterranean host had given. 
 
 Watching their leader's beck and will, 
 
 All silent there they stood, and still. 
 
 Like the loose crags, whose threatening mass 
 
 Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass. 
 
THE COMBAT. 155 
 
 As if an infant's touch could urge 
 
 Their headlong passage down the verge. 
 
 With step and weapon forward flung, 220 
 
 Upon the mountain-side they hung. 
 
 The mountaineer cast glance of pride 
 
 Along Benledi's living side, 
 
 Then fix'd 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 Eoderick Dhu ! " 
 
 X. 
 
 Fitz-James was brave : — Though to his heart 
 
 The life-blood thrilFd wdth sudden start. 
 
 He mann'd himself with dauntless air, 230 
 
 Eeturn'd the Chief his haughty stare, 
 
 His back against a rock he bore, 
 
 And flrmly placed his foot before : — 
 
 " Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly 
 
 From its firm base as soon as I.'' — 
 
 Sir Eoderick mark'd — and in his eyes 
 
 Respect was mingled with surprise. 
 
 And the stern joy which warriors feel 
 
 In foemen worthy of their steel. 
 
 Short space he stood — then waved his hand : 240 
 
 Down sunk the disappearing band ; 
 
 Each warrior vanished where he stood. 
 
156 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 In broom or bracken^ lieath or wood ; 
 
 Sunk brand and spear and bended bow, 
 
 In osiers pale and copses low ; 
 
 It seem'd as if their mother Earth 
 
 Had swallowed up her warlike birth. 
 
 The wind's last breath had tossM in air, 
 
 Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair, — 
 
 The next but swept a lone hill-side, 250 
 
 Where heath and fern were waving wide : 
 
 The sun's last glance was glinted back. 
 
 From spear and glaive, from targe and jack, — 
 
 The next, all unreflected, shone 
 
 On bracken green and cold gray stone. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Fitz-James look'd round, — jet scarce believed 
 
 The witness that his sight received ; 
 
 Such apparition well might seem 
 
 Delusion of a dreadful dream. 
 
 Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, 260 
 
 And to his look the Chief replied, 
 
 " Fear naught — nay, that I need not say — 
 
 But — doubt not aught from mine array. 
 
 Thou art my guest ; — I pledged my word 
 
 As far as Coilantogle ford : 
 
 Nor would I call a clansman's brand 
 
THE COMBAT. 157 
 
 For aid against one valiant hand, ! 
 
 Though on our strife lay every vale i 
 
 Eent by the Saxon from the Gael. ; 
 
 So move we on ; — I only meant 270 ] 
 
 To show the reed on which you leant, i 
 
 Deeming this path you might pursue \ 
 
 Without a pass from Roderick Dhu.'' — ^ 
 
 They moved : — I said Fitz- James was brave, ^ 
 
 As ever knight that belted glaive ; | 
 
 Yet dare not say, that now his blood j 
 
 Kept on its wont and tempered flood, \ 
 
 As, following Eoderick's stride, he drew | 
 
 That seeming lonesome pathway through, \ 
 
 Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife 280 i 
 
 With lances, that to take his life i 
 
 Waited but signal from a guide, j 
 
 So late dishonor'd and defied. \ 
 
 Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round ! 
 
 The vanished guardians of the ground, -; 
 
 And still, from copse and heather deep, i 
 
 Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep, i 
 
 And in the plover's shrilly strain, j 
 
 The signal whistle heard again. j 
 
 ISTor breathed he free till far behind 290 : 
 
 The pass was left ; for then they wind - : 
 
 Along a wide and level green, : 
 
 Where neither tree nor tuft was seen, ■ 
 
158 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Nor rush nor bush of broom was near, 
 To hide a bonnet or a spear. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The Chief in silence strode before, 
 
 And reach'd that torrent's sounding shore, 
 
 Which, daughter of three mighty lakes. 
 
 From Vennachar in silver breaks. 
 
 Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 300 
 
 On Bochastle the mouldering lines. 
 
 Where Eome, the Empress of the world. 
 
 Of yore her eagle wings unfurl'd. 
 
 And here his course the Chieftain staid, 
 
 Threw down his target and his plaid. 
 
 And to the Lowland warrior 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, 310 
 
 Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward. 
 
 Far past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard. 
 
 Kow, man to man, and steel to steel, 
 
 A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. 
 
 See, here, all vantageless, I stand, 
 
 Arm'd, like thyself, with single brand : 
 
 For this is Coilantogle ford. 
 
 And thou must keep thee with thy sword.'^ 
 
THE COMBAT. 159 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The Saxon paused : — ^^ I ne'er delayed, 
 
 When foeman bade me draw my blade ; 320 
 
 Nay more^ brave Chief, I vow'd thy death : 
 
 Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, 
 
 And my deep debt for life preserved, 
 
 A better meed have well deserved : — 
 
 Can naught but blood our feud atone ? 
 
 Are there no means ? " — " No, Stranger, none ! 
 
 And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — 
 
 The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; 
 
 For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred 
 
 Between the living and the dead : 330 
 
 ' Who spills the foremost foeman's life, 
 
 His party conquers in the strife.' " 
 
 " Then, by my word," the Saxon said, 
 
 '' The riddle is already read. 
 
 Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — 
 
 There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 
 
 Thus Fate hath solved her prophecy, 
 
 Then yield to Fate, and not to me. 
 
 To James, at Stirling, let us go. 
 
 When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 340 
 
 Or if the King shall not agree 
 
 To grant thee grace and favor free, 
 
 I plight mine honor, oath, and word. 
 
 That, to thy native strengths restored. 
 
160 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 With each advantage shalt thou stand, 
 That aids thee now to guard thy land.'' — 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eye : 
 
 " Soars thy presumption, then, so high, 
 
 Because a wretched kern ye slew. 
 
 Homage to name to Roderick Dhu ? 350 
 
 He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! 
 
 Thou add'st but fuel to my hate : — 
 
 My clansman's blood demands revenge. — 
 
 Not yet prepared ? — By heaven, I change 
 
 My thought, and hold thy valor light 
 
 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, Roderick, for the word ! 360 
 
 It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; 
 
 For I have sworn this braid to stain 
 
 In the best blood that warms thy vein. 
 
 Now, truce, farewell ! and, ruth, begone ! — 
 
 Yet think not that by thee alone, 
 
 Proud Chief ! can courtesy be shown ; 
 
 Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, 
 
 Start at my whistle clansmen stern, 
 
 Of this small horn one feeble blast 
 
THE COMBAT. 161 
 
 Would fearful odds against thee cast. 370 
 
 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 look'd 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, 380 
 
 Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide 
 
 Had death so often dash'd aside ; 
 
 For, train'd abroad his arms to wield, 
 
 Eitz-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 strife they stood. 
 
 And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood ; 390 
 
 No stinted draught, no scanty tide. 
 
 The gushing flood the tartans dyed. 
 
 Eierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, 
 
 And showered his blows like wintry rain ; 
 
162 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 And, as firm rock, or castle roof, 
 Against the winter shower is proof, 
 The foe, invulnerable still, 
 , Foil'd his wild rage by steady skill ; 
 
 Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand 
 Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, 400 
 
 And, backward borne upon the lea. 
 Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 ^^ISTow, yield thee, or, by Him who made 
 
 The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade ! " — 
 
 '^ Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy ! 
 
 Let recreant yield, who fears to die." 
 
 Like adder darting from his coil. 
 
 Like wolf that dashes through the toil, 
 
 Like mountain-cat who guards her young, 
 
 Full at Fitz-James's throat he sprung ; 410 
 
 Received, but reck VI not of a wound. 
 
 And lock'd his arms his foeman round. — 
 
 Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own ! 
 
 No maiden's hand is round thee thrown ! 
 
 That desperate grasp thy frame might feel, 
 
 Through bars of brass and triple steel ! 
 
 They tug, they strain ! dowii, down they go. 
 
 The Gael above, Fitz-James below. 
 
THE COMBAT. 163 
 
 The Chieftain's gripe his throat compressed, 
 
 His knee was planted on his breast ; 420 
 
 His clotted locks he backward threw, 
 
 Across his brow his hand he 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 game ; 
 
 For, while the dagger gleam'd on high, 
 
 ReePd soul and sense, reeFd brain and eye. 430 
 
 Down came the blow ! but in the heath 
 
 The erring blade found bloodless sheath. 
 
 The struggling foe may now unclasp 
 
 The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp ; 
 
 Unwounded from the dreadful close. 
 
 But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 He falter'd thanks to Heaven for life, 
 
 Eedeem'd, unhoped, from desperate strife ; 
 
 Next on his foe his look he cast, 
 
 Whose every gasp appear'd his last ; 440 
 
 In Roderick's gore he dipp'd the braid, — 
 
 '^ Poor Blanche ! thy wrongs are dearly paid: 
 
164 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Yet with thy foe must die, or live, 
 
 The praise that Faith and Valor give.'' 
 
 With that he blew a bugle note, 
 
 Undid the collar from his throat, 
 
 Unbonneted, 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 ; 450 
 
 The sounds increase, and now are seen 
 
 Four mounted squires in Lincoln green ; 
 
 Two who bear lance, and two who lead. 
 
 By loosen'd rein, a saddled steed ; 
 
 Each onward held his headlong course, 
 
 And by Fitz-James rein'd up his horse, — 
 
 With wonder view'd the bloody spot — 
 
 " Exclaim not, gallants ! question not. — 
 
 You, Herbert and Luffness, alight. 
 
 And bind the wounds of yonder knight ; 460 
 
 Let the gray palfrey bear his weight. 
 
 We destined for a fairer freight. 
 
 And bring him on to Stirling straight ; 
 
 I will before at better speed. 
 
 To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 
 
 The sun rides high ; — I must be boune, 
 
 To see the archer-game at noon ; 
 
 But lightly Bayard clears the lea. — 
 
 De Vaux and Herries, follow me. 
 
THE COMBAT. 165 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 ^' Standi Bayardj stand ! '^ — the steed obeyed 470 
 
 Witli arching neck and bended head^ 
 
 And glancing eye, and quivering ear, 
 
 As if he loved his lord to hear. 
 
 ISTo foot Fitz-James in stirrup staid, 
 
 ISTo grasp upon the saddle laid, 
 
 But wreath'd his left hand in the mane, 
 
 And lightly bounded from the plain. 
 
 Turned on the horse his armed heel. 
 
 And stirr'd his courage with the steel. 
 
 Bounded the fiery steed in air, 480 
 
 The rider sate erect and fair. 
 
 Then, like a bolt from steel cross-bow 
 
 Forth launched, along the plain they go. 
 
 They dash'd that rapid torrent through. 
 
 And up Carhonie's hill they flew ; 
 
 Still at the gallop prick'd the Knight, 
 
 His merry-men followed as they might. 
 
 Along thy banks, swift Teitli ! they ride, 
 
 And in the race they mock thy tide ; 
 
 Torry and Lendrick now are past, 490 
 
 And Deanstown lies behind them cast ; 
 
 They rise, the banner'd towers of Doune, 
 
 They sink in distant woodland soon ; 
 
 Blair-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire. 
 
 They sweep like breeze through Ochtertyre ; 
 
166 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 They mark just glance and disappear 
 
 The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; 
 
 They bathe their coursers' sweltering sides, 
 
 Dark Forth ! amid thy sluggish tides, 
 
 And on the opposing shore take ground, 500 
 
 With plash, with scramble, and with bound. 
 
 Eight-hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth ! 
 
 And soon the bulwark of the North, 
 
 Gray Stirling, with her towers and town, 
 
 Upon their fleet career look'd down. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 As up the flinty path they strain'd, 
 
 Sudden his steed the leader rein'd ; 
 
 A signal to his squire he flung. 
 
 Who instant to his stirrup sprung : — 
 
 " Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodsman gray, 5io 
 
 Who town-ward holds the rocky way. 
 
 Of stature tall and poor array ? 
 
 Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride. 
 
 With which he scales the mountain side ? 
 
 Know'st thou from whence he comes, or whom ? '' 
 
 ^' No, by my word ; — a burly groom 
 
 He seems, who in the field or chase 
 
 A baron's train would nobly grace." — 
 
 '' Out, out, De Vaux ! can fear supply, 
 
 And jealousy, no sharper eye ? 520 
 
THE COMBAT. 167 
 
 Afar, ere to the hill he drew, 
 
 That stately form and step I knew ; 
 
 Like form in Scotland is not seen, 
 
 Treads not such step on Scottish green. 
 
 'Tis James of Douglas, by St. Serle ! 
 
 The uncle of the banish'd Earl. 
 
 Away, away, to court, to show 
 
 The near approach of dreaded foe : 
 
 The King must stand upon his guard ; 
 
 Douglas and he must meet prepared.'' 530 
 
 Then right-hand wheePd their steeds, and straight 
 
 They won the castle's postern gate. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Douglas, who had bent his way 
 
 From Cambus-Kenneth's abbey gray, 
 
 Now, as he climb'd the rocky shelf. 
 
 Held sad communion with himself : — 
 
 " Yes ! all is true my fears could frame ; 
 
 A prisoner lies the noble Graeme, 
 
 And fiery Roderick soon will feel 
 
 The vengeance of the royal steel. 540 
 
 I, only T, can ward their fate, — 
 
 God grant the ransom come not late ! 
 
 The abbess hath her promise given. 
 
 My child shall be the bride of heaven ; — 
 
 — Be pardon'd one repining tear ! 
 
168 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 For He, who gave her, knows how dear, 
 
 How excellent ! — but that is by, 
 
 And now my busines is — to die. 
 
 — Ye towers ! within whose circuit dread 
 
 A Douglas by his sovereign bled ; 550 
 
 And thou, sad and fatal mound ! 
 
 That oft hast heard the death-axe sound. 
 
 As on the noblest of the land 
 
 Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand, — 
 
 The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb 
 
 Prepare, — for Douglas seeks his doom ! 
 
 But hark ! what blithe and jolly peal 
 
 Makes the Franciscan steeple reel ? 
 
 And see ! upon the crowded street. 
 
 In motley groups what masquers meet ! 560 
 
 Banner and pageant, pipe and drum. 
 
 And merry morrice-dancers come. 
 
 I guess, by all this quaint array, 
 
 The burghers hold their sports to-day. 
 
 James will be there ; he loves such show, 
 
 Where the good yeoman bends his bow, 
 
 And the tough wrestler foils his foe, 
 
 As well as where, in proud career. 
 
 The high-born tilter shivers spear. 
 
 I'll follow to the Castle-park, 570 
 
 And play my prize ; — King James shall mark, 
 
 If age has tamed these sinews stark. 
 
THE COMBAT, 169 
 
 Whose force so oft, in happier days, 
 His boyish wonder loved to praise.'^ 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Castle gates were open flung, 
 
 The quivering draw-bridge rock'd and rung, 
 
 And echo'd loud the flinty street 
 
 Beneath the coursers' clattering feet. 
 
 As slowly down the steep descent 
 
 Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 580 
 
 While all along the crowded way 
 
 Was jubilee and loud huzza. 
 
 And ever James was bending low, 
 
 To his white jennet's saddlebow. 
 
 Doffing his cap to city dame. 
 
 Who smiled and blush'd for pride and shame. 
 
 And well the simperer might be vain, — 
 
 He chose the fairest of the train. 
 
 Gravely he greets each city sire. 
 
 Commends each pageant's quaint attire, 590 
 
 Gives to the dancers thanks aloud. 
 
 And smiles and nods upon the crowd. 
 
 Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, 
 
 '' Long live the Commons' King, King James ! " 
 
 Behind the King throng'd peer and knight. 
 
 And noble dame and damsel bright. 
 
 Whose fiery steeds ill brook'd the stay 
 
170 THE LABY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Of the steep street and crowded way. 
 
 — But in the train you might discern 
 
 Dark lowering brow and visage stern ; 600 
 
 There nobles inourn'd their pride restrained, 
 
 And the mean burgher's joys disdain'd; 
 
 And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan, 
 
 Were each from home a banish'd man. 
 
 There thought upon their own gray tower, 
 
 Their waving woods, their feudal power. 
 
 And deem'd themselves a shameful part 
 
 Of pageant which they cursed in heart. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 NoAV, in the Castle-park, drew out 
 
 Their chequered bands the joyous rout, 610 
 
 There morricers, with bell at heel. 
 
 And blade in hand, their mazes wheel ; 
 
 But chief, beside the butts, there stand 
 
 Bold Kobin Hood and all his band, — 
 
 Eriar Tuck with quarterstaff and cowl, 
 
 Old Scathelocke with his surly scowl. 
 
 Maid Marion, fair as ivory bone, 
 
 Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John ; 
 
 Their bugles challenge all that will. 
 
 In archery to prove their skill. 620 
 
 The Douglas bent a bow of might, — 
 
 His first shaft centered in the white, 
 
THE COMBAT. 171 \ 
 
 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 archer's stake ; ! 
 Fondly he watch'd, with watery eye, 
 
 Some answering glance of sympathy, — \ 
 
 No kind emotion made reply ! \ 
 
 Indifferent as to archer wight, 630 i 
 The monarch gave the arrow bright. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Now, clear the ring ! for, hand to hand, 
 
 The manly wrestlers take their stand. 
 
 Two o'^er the rest superior rose, 
 
 And proud demanded mightier foes. 
 
 Nor caird in vain ; for Douglas came. — 
 
 For life is Hugh of Larbert lame ; 
 
 Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. 
 
 Whom senseless home his comrades bare. 
 
 Prize of the wrestling match, the King 640 
 
 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 struggling soul his words suppressed ; 
 
 Indignant then he turn'd him where 
 
172 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Their arms the brawny yeomen bare, 
 
 To hurl the massive bar in air. 
 
 When each his utmost strength had shown, 
 
 The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone 650 
 
 From its deep bed, then heaved it high, 
 
 And sent the fragment through the sky, 
 
 A rood beyond the farthest mark ; — 
 
 And still in Stirling's royal park, 
 
 The gray-hair'd sires, who know the past, 
 
 To strangers point the Douglas-cast, 
 
 And moralize on the decay. 
 
 Of Scottish strength in modern day. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The vale with loud applauses rang, 
 
 The Ladies' Eock sent back the clang. 660 
 
 The King, with look unmoved, bestow'd 
 
 A purse well filPd with pieces broad. 
 
 Indignant smiled the Douglas proud. 
 
 And threw the gold among the crowd. 
 
 Who now, with anxious wonder, scan. 
 
 And sharper glance, the dark gray 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, 670 
 
THE COMBAT. 173 
 
 To see his hair with silver spread, 
 
 And wink'd 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 prais'd his stately form, 
 
 Though wrecked by many a winter's storm ; 
 
 The youth, with awe and wonder, saw 
 
 His strength surpassing Nature's law. 
 
 Thus judged, as is their wont, the crowd, 680 
 
 Till murmur rose to clamors loud. 
 
 But not a glance from that proud ring 
 
 Of peers who circled round the King, 
 
 With Douglas held communion kind, 
 
 Or calPd the banish'd man to mind ; 
 
 No, not from those who, at the chase, 
 
 Once held his side the honor'd place. 
 
 Begirt his board, and in the field 
 
 Found safety underneath his shield ; 
 
 For he, whom royal eyes disown, 690 
 
 When was his form to courtiers known ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The Monarch saw the gambols flag, 
 And bade let loose a gallant stag. 
 Whose pride, the holiday to crown, 
 
174 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Two favorite greyhounds should pull down, 
 
 That venison free, and Bourdeaux 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, — 700 
 
 Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. 
 
 She left the royal hounds mid-way, 
 
 And, dashing on the antler'd prey, 
 
 Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank. 
 
 And deep the flowing life-blood 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 morn, 710 
 
 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 oft would Ellen, Lufra's neck. 
 
 In maiden glee, with garlands deck ; 
 
 They were such playmates that, with name 
 
 Of Lufra, Ellen's image came. 
 
 His stifled wrath is brimming high, 720 
 
 In darken'd brow and flashing eye ; — 
 
THE COMBAT. 175 
 
 As waves before the bark divide, 
 The crowd gave way before his stride ; 
 Needs but a buffet and no more, 
 The groom lies senseless in his gore. 
 Such blow no other hand could deal, 
 Though gauntleted in glove of steel. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then clamor'd loud the royal train, 
 
 And brandishVI swords and staves amain. 
 
 But stern the Baron's warning — " Back ! 730 
 
 Back, on your lives, ye menial pack ! 
 
 Beware the Douglas. — Yes ! behold. 
 
 King James ! The Douglas, doom'd 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, 740 
 
 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 ? — 
 
176 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 What ho ! the Captain of our Guard ! 
 
 Give the offender fitting ward. — 
 
 Break off the sports ! '' — for tumult rose, 
 
 And yeomen 'gan to bend their bows, — 
 
 ^^ Break off the sports ! '' he said, and frown'd, 75a 
 
 ^^ And bid our horsemen clear the ground.'^ — 
 
 XXVIL- 
 
 Then uproar wild and misarray 
 
 Marr'd the fair form of festal day. 
 
 The horsemen prick'd among the crowd, 
 
 RepelPd by threats and insult loud ; 
 
 To earth are borne the old and weak, 
 
 The timorous fly, the women shriek ; 
 
 With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar. 
 
 The hardier urge tumultuous war. 
 
 At once round Douglas darkly sweep 760 
 
 The royal spears in circle deep, 
 
 And slowly scale the pathway steep ; 
 
 While on the rear in thunder pour 
 
 The rabble with disorder'd roar. 
 
 With grief the noble Douglas saw 
 
 The Commons rise against the law. 
 
 And to the leading soldier said, — 
 
 " Sir John of Hyndford ! 'twas my blade, 
 
 That knighthood on thy shoulder laid ; 
 
THE COMBAT, 177 
 
 For that good deed, permit me then 770 
 
 A word with these misguided men. — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 '' Hear^ gentle friends ! ere yet for me 
 
 Ye break the bands of fealty. 
 
 My life^ my honor, and my cause, 
 
 L tender free to Scotland's laws. 
 
 Are 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, 780 
 
 That, for mean vengeance on a foe. 
 
 Those cords of love I should unbind 
 
 Which knit my country and my kind ? 
 
 no ! Believe, in yonder tower 
 
 It will not soothe 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 widow's mate expires ; 790 
 
 For me that orphans weep their sires ; 
 
 That patriots mourn insulted laws, 
 
 And curse the Douglas for the cause. 
 
178 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 let your patience ward such ill, 
 
 And keep your right to love me still ! '' — 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The crowd's wild fury sunk amain 
 
 In tears, as tempests melt in rain. 
 
 With lifted hands and eyes, they pray'd 
 
 For blessings on his generous head, 
 
 Who for his country felt alone, 800 
 
 And prized her blood beyond his own. 
 
 Old men upon the verge of life 
 
 Bless'd 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 trailing arms and drooping head, 810 
 
 The Douglas up the hill he led, 
 
 And at the Castle's battled verge. 
 
 With sighs resigned his honor'd charge. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The offended Monarch rode apart. 
 With bitter thought and swelling heart, 
 
THE COMBAT, 179 
 
 And would not now vouchsafe again 
 
 Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 
 
 " Lennox, who would wish to rule 
 
 This changeling crowd, this common fool ? 
 
 Hear'st thou/' he said, " the loud acclaim 820 
 
 With which they shout the Douglas name ? 
 
 With like acclaim, the vulgar throat 
 
 Strain'd for King James their morning note ; 
 
 With like acclaim they haih'd 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, 830 
 
 And fickle as a changeful dream ; 
 
 Fantastic as a woman's mood. 
 
 And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood. 
 
 Thou many-headed monster-thing, 
 
 who would wish to be thy king ! — 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 '' But soft ! what messenger of speed 
 Spurs hitherward his panting steed ? 
 
 1 guess his cognizance afar — 
 
 What from our cousin, John of Mar ? " — 
 
 '' He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 840 
 
180 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Within the safe and guarded ground : 
 
 For some foul purpose yet unknown, — 
 
 Most sure for evil to the throne, — 
 
 The outlawed Chieftain, Eoderick Dhu, 
 
 Has summoned his rebellious crew ; 
 
 'Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid 
 
 These loose banditti stand array'd. 
 
 The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune, 
 
 To break their muster march'd, and soon 
 
 Your grace will hear of battle fought ; 850 
 
 But earnestly the Earl besought. 
 
 Till for such danger he provide, 
 
 With scanty train you will not ride." 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 ^^ Thou warn'st me I have done amiss, 
 I should have earlier looked to this : 
 • 1 lost it in this bustling day. — 
 Eetrace 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, 8G0 
 
 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 COMBAT. 181 
 
 The tidings of their leaders lost 
 
 Will soon dissolve the mountain host, 
 
 Nor would we that the vulgar feel, 
 
 For their Chiefs crimes, avenging steel. 
 
 Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly ! ^' — 870 
 
 He turn'd his steed, — " My liege, I hie, — 
 
 Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn, 
 
 I fear the broadswords will be drawn.'' 
 
 The turf the flying courser spurn'd. 
 
 And to his towers the King return'd. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Ill with King James' mood that day. 
 
 Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ; 
 
 Soon were dismissed the courtly throng, 
 
 And soon cut short the festal song. 
 
 Nor less upon the sadden'd town 880 
 
 The evening sunk in sorrow down. 
 
 The burghers spoke of civil jar. 
 
 Of rumor'd feuds and mountain war. 
 
 Of Moray, Mar, and Eoderick Dhu, 
 
 All up in arms : — the Douglas too. 
 
 They mourn'd him pent within the hold, 
 
 " Where stout Earl William was of old." 
 
 And there his word the speaker staid. 
 
 And finger on his lip he laid. 
 
 Or pointed to his dagger blade. 890 
 
182 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 But jaded horsemen, 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 rumor shook the town, 
 Till closed the Night her pennons brown. 
 
THE GUARD-ROOM, 183 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 TJie Gitard-Rooin, 
 
 The sun, awakening, throngh 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, 
 
 Scaring the prowling robber to his den ; 
 Gilding on battled tower the warder's lance. 
 
 And warning student pale to leave his pen. 
 And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men. 
 
 What various scenes, and, ! what scenes of woe, lO 
 
 Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam ! 
 The fever'd j^atient, from his pallet low. 
 
 Through crowded hospitals beholds it stream ; 
 The ruin'd maiden trembles at its gleam, 
 
 The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail. 
 The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream ; 
 
 The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, 
 Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. 
 
184 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 II. 
 
 At dawn the towers of Stirling rang 
 
 With soldier-step and weapon-clang, 20 
 
 While drums, with rolling note, foretell 
 
 Eelief to weary sentinel. 
 
 Through narrow loop and casement barr'd, 
 
 The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard, 
 
 And, struggling with the smoky air, 
 
 Deaden'd the torches' yellow glare. 
 
 In comfortless alliance shone 
 
 The lights through arch of blacken'd stone, 
 
 And show'd wild shapes in garb of war, 
 
 Faces deform'd with beard and scar, 30 
 
 All haggard from the midnight watch, 
 
 And f ever'd with the stern debauch ; 
 
 For the oak table's massive board, 
 
 Flooded with wine, with fragments stored. 
 
 And beakers drain'd, and cups o'erthrown, 
 
 Show'd in what sport the night had flown. 
 
 Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ; 
 
 Some labor'd still their thirst to quench ; 
 
 Some, chill'd with watching, spread their hands 
 
 O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, 40 
 
 While round them, or beside them flung. 
 
 At every step their harness rung. 
 
THE GUAED-BOOM, 186 
 
 III. 
 
 These drew not for their fields the sword, 
 
 Like tenants of a feudal lord, 
 
 Nor own'd 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 ; 50 
 
 The mountain-loving Switzer there 
 
 More freely breathed in mountain-air ; 
 
 The Fleming there despised the soil, 
 
 That paid so ill the laborer's toil ; 
 
 Their rolls show'd French and German name ; 
 
 And merry England's exiles came, 
 
 To share, with ill-conceal'd disdain, 
 
 Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain. 
 
 All brave in arms, well train'd to wield 
 
 The heavy halberd, brand, and shield ; 60 
 
 In camps licentious, wild, and bold ; 
 
 In pillage fierce and uncontroll'd ; 
 
 And now, by holytide and feast. 
 
 From rules of discipline released. 
 
 IV. 
 
 They held debate of bloody fray. 
 Fought 'twixt Loch Katrine and Achray. 
 
186 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Fierce was their speech^ and^ 'mid their words. 
 
 Their hands oft grappled to their swords; 
 
 Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear 
 
 Of wounded comrades groaning near, 70 
 
 Whose mangled limbs and bodies gored 
 
 Bore token of the mountain sword, 
 
 Though, neighboring 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, 
 
 In peace a chaser of the deer, 80 
 
 In host a hardy mutineer, 
 
 But still tlie boldest of the crew. 
 
 When deed of danger was to do. 
 
 He grieved, that day, their games cut short. 
 
 And marr'd the dicer's brawling sport, 
 
 And shouted loud, " Renew the bowl ! 
 
 And, while a merry catch I troll, 
 
 Let each the buxom chorus bear. 
 
 Like brethren of the brand and spear." -^ 
 
THE GUARD-ROOM. 187 
 
 V. 
 
 Soldier^ s Song. 
 
 Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule 90 
 
 Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl, 
 That there's wrath and despair in the jolly black-jack^ 
 And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack ; 
 Yet whoop, Barnaby ! off with thy liquor, 
 Drink upsees out, and a fig for the vicar ! 
 
 Our vicar he calls it damnation to sip 
 The ripe ruddy dew of a woman's dear lip, 
 Says that Beelzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly, 
 And Apollyon shoots darts from her merry black eye ; 
 Yet whoop. Jack ! kiss Gillian the quicker, lOO 
 
 Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vicar ! 
 
 Our vicar thus preaches — and why should he not ? 
 For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot ; 
 And 'tis right of his office poor laymen to lurch, 
 Who infringe the domains of our good Mother Church. 
 Yet whoop, bully-boys ! off with your liquor. 
 Sweet Marjorie's the word, and a fig for the vicar ! 
 
 VL 
 
 The warder's challenge, heard without, 
 
 Staid in mid-roar the merry shout. 
 
 A soldier to the portal went, — no 
 
188 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 '' Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent ; 
 
 And, beat for jubilee the drum ! — 
 
 A maid and minstrel with him come.'' — 
 
 Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarr'd, " 
 
 Was entering now the Court of Guard, 
 
 A harper with him, and in plaid 
 
 All muffled close, a mountain maid. 
 
 Who backward shrunk to 'scape the view 
 
 Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. 
 
 ^' What news ? '' they roar'd : — ''\ only know, 
 
 From noon till eve we fought with foe, 121 
 
 As wild and as untamable 
 
 As the rude mountains where they dwojl. 
 
 On both sides store of blood is lost, 
 
 Nor much success can either boast." — 
 
 '^ But whence thy captives, friend ? such spoil 
 
 As theirs must needs reward thy toil. 
 
 Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp ; 
 
 Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp ! 
 
 Get thee an ape, and trudge the land, 130 
 
 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, 
 
THE GUARD-ROOM. 189 
 
 Mar bade I should purvey them steed^ 
 
 And bring them hitherward with speed. 
 
 Forbear your mirth and rude alarm, 
 
 For none shall do them shame or harm.'' — 
 
 " Hear ye his boast ! '' cried John of Brent, 140 
 
 Ever to strife and jangling bent ; 
 
 " Shall he strike doe beside our lodge. 
 
 And yet the jealous niggard grudge 
 
 To pay the forester his fee ? 
 
 I'll have my share howe'er it be, 
 
 Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee." — 
 
 Bertram his forward step withstood ; 
 
 And, burning in his vengeful mood, 
 
 Old Allan, though unfit for strife. 
 
 Laid hand upon his dagger-knife ; 150 
 
 But Ellen boldly stepp'd between. 
 
 And dropp'd at once the tartan screen. 
 
 So, from his morning cloud, appears 
 
 The sun of May, through summer tears. 
 
 The savage soldiery, amazed, 
 
 As on descended angel gazed ; 
 
 Even hardy Brent, abash'd and tamed, 
 
 Stood half admiring, half ashamed. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Boldly she spoke, — " Soldiers, attend ! 
 
 My father was the soldier's friend ; 160 
 
190 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Cheer'd him in camps, in marches led, 
 
 And with him in the battle bled. 
 
 Not from the valiant, or the strong, 
 
 Should exile's daughter suffer wrong." — 
 
 Answered De Brent, most forward still 
 
 In every feat or good or ill, — 
 
 '^ I shame me of the part I play'd : 
 
 And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid ! 
 
 An outlaw I by forest laws. 
 
 And merry Keedwood knows the cause. 170 
 
 Poor Rose, — if Rose be living now,'' — 
 
 He wiped his iron eye and brow, — 
 
 '' Must bear such age, I think, as thou. 
 
 Hear ye, my mates ; — I go to call 
 
 The Captain of our watch to hall : 
 
 There lies my halberd on the floor ; 
 
 And he that steps my halberd o'er. 
 
 To do the maid injurious part. 
 
 My shaft shall quiver in his heart ! 
 
 Beware loose speech, or jesting rough : 180 
 
 Ye all know John de Brent. Enough." — 
 
 IX. 
 
 Their Captain came, a gallant young, - 
 (Of Tullibardine's house he sprung,) 
 Nor Avore he yet the spurs of knight ; 
 
THE GUARD-ROOM. 191 < 
 
 Gay was his mien, his humor light, j 
 
 And, though by courtesy controlPd, ' 
 Forward his speech, his bearing bold. 
 
 The high-born maiden ill could brook -^ 
 
 The scanning of his curious look ^ 
 
 And dauntless eye ; — and yet, in sooth, 190 j 
 
 Young Lewis was a generous youth ; \ 
 
 But Ellen's lovely face and mien, ] 
 
 111 suited to the garb and scene, j 
 
 Might lightly bear construction strange, \ 
 
 And give loose fancy scope to range. ] 
 
 '' Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid ! \ 
 
 Come ye to seek a champion's aid, \ 
 On palfrey white, with harper hoar, 
 Like errant damosel of yore ? 
 
 Does thy high quest a knight require, . 200 \ 
 
 Or may the venture suit a squire ? " — \ 
 
 Her dark eye flash'd ; — she paused and sigh'd, — ' 
 
 " what have I to do with pride ! — \ 
 
 — Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife, . 
 
 A suppliant for a father's life, ; 
 
 I crave an audience of the King. ^ i 
 
 Behold, to back my suit, a ring, _ ■ 
 
 The royal pledge of grateful claims, J 
 
 Given by the Monarch to Titz-James." \ 
 
192 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 X. 
 
 The signet-ring young Lewis took, 210 
 
 With deep respect and alter'd look ; 
 
 And said, — '' This ring our duties own ; 
 
 And pardon, if to worth unknown, 
 
 In semblance mean obscurely veil'd, 
 
 Lady, in aught my folly fail'd. 
 
 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 220 
 
 Your hest, for service or array. 
 
 Permit I marshal you the way." 
 
 But, ere she followed, with the grace 
 
 And open bounty of her race. 
 
 She bade her slender purse be shared 
 
 Among the soldiers of the guard. 
 
 The rest with thanks their guerdon took ; 
 
 But Brent, with shy and awkward look. 
 
 On the reluctant maiden's hold 
 
 Forced bluntly back the proffer'd gold ; — 230 
 
 a Forgive a haughty English heart. 
 
 And O forget its ruder part ! 
 
 The vacant purse shall be my share. 
 
 Which in my barret-cap I'll bear, 
 
 Perchance, in jeopardy of war, 
 
THE GU ABB-BOOM, 193 
 
 Where gayer crests may keep afar.'' — 
 
 With thanks, — 'twas all she could, — the maid 
 
 His rugged courtesy repaid. 
 
 XL 
 
 When Ellen forth with Lewis went, 
 
 Allan made suit to John of Brent : — 240 
 
 " My lady safe, let your grace 
 
 Give me to see my master's face ! 
 
 His minstrel I, — to share his doom 
 
 Bound from the 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 their own. 
 
 With the Chief's birth begins our care ; 
 
 Our harp must soothe the infant heir, 250 
 
 Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace 
 
 His earliest feat of field or chase ; 
 
 In peace, in war, our rank we keep, 
 
 We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep, 
 
 Nor leave him till we pour our verse, 
 
 A doleful tribute ! — o'er his hearse. 
 
 Then let me share his captive lot ; 
 
 It is my right — deny it not ! " — 
 
 '' Little we reck," said John of Bre^t, 
 
 '' We Southern men, of long descent ; 260 
 
194 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. j 
 
 N"or wot we how a name — a word — i 
 
 j 
 
 Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : ' 
 Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — 
 God bless the house of Beaudesert ! 
 
 And, but I loved to drive the deer, ! 
 
 More than to guide the laboring steer, ^ 
 
 I had not dwelt an outcast here. j 
 
 Come, good old Minstrel, follow me ; ^ 
 Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see.'' — 
 
 XII. ] 
 
 Then, from a rusted iron hook, 270 
 
 A bunch of ponderous keys he took, ' 
 
 Lighted a torch, and Allan led | 
 
 Through grated arch and passage dread. | 
 
 Portals they pass'd, where, deep within, \ 
 
 Spoke prisoner's moan and fetters' din ; : 
 
 Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored, i 
 
 Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword, : 
 
 And many an hideous engine grim, ' 
 
 For wrenching joint, and crushing limb, . ] 
 By artist form'd, who deem'd it shame 280 | 
 
 And sin to give their work a name. '\ 
 
 They halted at a low-brow'd porch, . 
 
 And Brent to Allan gave the torch, ^ ' 
 While «bolt and chain he backward roll'd. 
 
 And made the bar unhasp its hold. i 
 
THE GUABD-EOOM. 195 
 
 They enter'd : — ^twas a prison-room 
 
 Of stern security and gloom, 
 
 Yet not a dungeon ; for the day 
 
 Through lofty gratings found its way, 
 
 And rude and antique garniture " 290 
 
 Deck'd the sad walls and oaken floor ; 
 
 Such as the rugged days of old 
 
 Deem'd fit for captive noble's hold. 
 
 '^ Here/' said De Brent, '' thou may'st remain 
 
 Till the Leech visit him again. 
 
 Strict is his charge, the warders tell, 
 
 To tend the noble prisoner well." 
 
 Retiring then the bolt he drew, 
 
 And the lock's murmurs growPd anew\ 
 
 Roused at the sound, from lowly bed 300 
 
 A captive feebly raised his head ; 
 
 The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew — 
 
 Not his dear Lord, but Roderick Dhu ! 
 
 For, come from where Clan-Alpine fought, 
 
 They, erring, deem'd the Chief he sought. 
 
 XIIL 
 
 As the tall ship, whose lofty prore 
 
 Shall never stem the billows more, 
 
 Deserted by her gallant band. 
 
 Amid the breakers lies astrand, — 
 
 So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhu ! 310 
 
196 • THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 And oft his fever' d limbs he threw 
 
 111 toss abrupt, as when her sides 
 
 Lie rocking in the advancing tides, 
 
 That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, 
 
 Yet cannot heave her from her seat ; — 
 
 ! how unlike her course at sea ! 
 
 Or his free step on hill and lea ! — 
 
 Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, 
 
 — " What of thy lady ? — of my clan ? — 
 
 My mother ? — Douglas ? — tell me all ! 320 
 
 Have they been ruin'd in ni}^ fall ? 
 
 Ah, yes ! or wherefore art thou here ? 
 
 Yet speak, — speak boldly, — do not fear.'' — 
 
 (For Allan, who his mood well knew. 
 
 Was choked with grief and terror too.) 
 
 ^^ Who fought — who fled ? — Old man, be brief ; — 
 
 Some might — for they had lost their Chief. 
 
 Who basely live ? — who bravely died ? " 
 
 ^^ 0, calm thee. Chief ! " the Minstrel cried, 
 
 " Ellen is safe ; " — '' For that, thank Heaven ! " — 
 
 " And hopes are for the Douglas given ; — 331 
 
 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." 
 
THE GUARD-BOOM. 197 ' 
 
 XIV. i 
 
 i 
 
 The Chieftain rear'cl his form on high, j 
 
 And fever's lire was in his eye ; ^ 
 
 But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks 340 .; 
 
 Chequer'd his swarthy brow and cheeks. ] 
 
 — '^ Hark, Minstrel ! I have heard thee play, * ] 
 
 With measure bold, on festal day, ] 
 
 In yon lone isle, .... again where ne'er | 
 
 Shall harper play, or warrior hear ! , . . . j 
 
 That stirring air that peals on high, ] 
 
 O'er Dermid's race our victory. — 
 
 Strike it ! — and then, (for well thou canst,) 
 
 Free from thy minstrel-spirit glanced, ; 
 
 Fling me the picture of the fight, 350 J 
 
 AVhen met my clan the Saxon might. j 
 
 I'll listen, till my fancy hears 
 
 The clang of swords, the crash of spears ! i 
 
 These grates, these walls, shall vanish then, • 
 
 For the fair field of fighting men, ! 
 
 And my free spirit burst away. 
 
 As if it soar'd from battle fray.'^ 
 
 The trembling Bard with awe obey'd, — -i 
 
 Slow on the harp his hand he laid ; 1 
 
 But soon remembrance of the sight 360 
 
 He witness'd from the mountain's height, i 
 
 With what old Bertram told at night, • 
 
 Awaken'd the full power of song, 
 
198 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 And bore him in career along ; — 
 As shallop laimch'd on river's tide, 
 That slow and fearful leaves the side, 
 But, when it feels the middle stream, 
 Drives downward swift as lightning's beam. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Battle of Bear an Dtcine. 
 " The Minstrel came once more to view 
 The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 370 
 
 For ere he parted, he would say 
 Farewell to lovely Loch Achray — 
 Where shall he find, in foreign land, 
 So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! — 
 There is no breeze upon the fern, 
 
 Nor 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, 380 
 
 So darkly glooms yon thunder cloud. 
 That swathes, as with a purple shroud, 
 
 Benledi's distant hill. 
 Is it the thunder's solemn sound 
 That mutters deep and dread. 
 Or echoes from the groaning ground 
 The warrior's measured tread ? 
 
THE GUARD-ROOM. 199 
 
 Is it the lightning's quivering glance 
 
 That on the thicket streams^ 
 Or do they flash on spear and lance 390 
 
 The sun's retiring beams ? — 
 I see the dagger-crest of Mar, 
 I see the Moray's silver star, 
 Wa,ve o'er the cloud of. Saxon war, 
 That up the lake comes winding far ! 
 To hero bound for battle-strife. 
 
 Or bard of martial lay, 
 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life. 
 One glance at their array ! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Their light-arm'd archers far and near 400 
 
 Surveyed the tangled ground. 
 Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, 
 
 A twilight forest frown' d, 
 Their barbed horsemen, in the rear. 
 
 The stern battalia crown' d. 
 No cymbal clash'd, no clarion rang, 
 
 Still were the pipe and drum ; 
 Save heavy tread, and armor's clang, 
 
 The sullen march was dumb. 
 There breathed no wind their crests to shake, 
 
 Or wave their flags abroad ; 4ig 
 
200 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Scarce the frail aspen seem'd to quake, 
 
 That shadow'd o'er their road. 
 Their vaward scouts no tidings bring, 
 
 Can rouse no lurking foe, 
 Nor spy a trace of living thing, 
 
 Save when they stirr'd the roe ; 
 The host moves, like a deep-sea wave. 
 Where rise no rocks its pride to brave. 
 
 High-swelling, dark, and slow. 420 
 
 The lake is pass'd, and now they gain 
 A narrow and a broken plain, 
 Before the Trosachs' rugged jaws : 
 And here the horse and spearmen pause. 
 While, to explore the dangerous glen, 
 Dive through the pass the archer-men. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 ^^ At once there rose so wild a yell 
 Within that dark and narrow dell. 
 As all the fiends from heaven that fell 
 Had peaPd the banner-cry of hell ! 430 
 
 Forth from the pass in tumult driven. 
 Like chaff before the wind of heaven, 
 
 The archery appear : 
 For life ! for life ! their plight they ply — 
 And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, 
 
THE GUARD-BOOM. 201 j 
 
 And plaids and bonnets waving high, 
 
 And broadswords flashing to the sky, I 
 
 Are maddening in the rear. ; 
 
 Onward they drive, in dreadful race, ' ; 
 
 Pursuers and pursued ; 440 i 
 Before that tide of flight and chase, 
 
 How shall it keep its rooted place, I 
 
 The spearmen's twilight wood ? — i 
 
 ' Down, down,' cried Mar, ' your lances down ! '\ 
 
 Bear back both friend and foe ! ' — \ 
 
 Like reeds before the tempest's frown, . 
 
 That serried grove of lances brown j 
 
 At once lay levelFd low ; \ 
 
 And closely shouldering side to side, i 
 
 The bristling ranks the onset bide. — 450 ] 
 ' We'll quell the savage mountaineer. 
 
 As their Tinchel cows the game ! '\ 
 
 They come as fleet as forest deer, ; 
 
 i 
 
 We'll drive them back as tame.' — \ 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " Bearing before them, in their course. 
 The relics of the archer force. 
 Like wave with crest of sparkling foam. 
 Eight onward did Clan- Alpine come. 
 Above the tide, each broadsword bright 
 
202 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. \ 
 
 Was brandishing like beam of light, 460 - 
 
 Each targe was dark below ; 
 
 And with the ocean's mighty swing, ; 
 
 When heaving to the tempest's wing, 
 
 They hurPd them on the foe. 
 
 I heard the lance's shivering crash, ; 
 
 As when the whirlwind rends the ash ; \ 
 
 I heard the broadsword's deadly clang, \ 
 
 As if an hundred anvils rang ! j 
 
 But Moray wheel 'd his rearward rank | 
 
 Of horsemen on Clan- Alpine's flank, — 470 \ 
 
 ' My banner-man, advance ! : 
 
 I see,' he cried, ^ their column shake. \ 
 
 ISTow, gallants ! for your ladies' sake, j 
 
 Upon them with the lance ! ' — i 
 
 The horsemen dash'd among the rout, \ 
 
 As deer break through the broom ; 
 
 Their steeds are stout, their swords are out, j 
 
 They soon make lightsome room. \ 
 
 Clan-Alpine's best are backward borne — ! 
 
 Where, where was Roderick then ! 480 ; 
 
 One blast upon his bugle-horn \ 
 
 "Were worth a thousand men. \ 
 
 And refluent through the pass of fear 
 
 The battle's tide was pour'd ; ^ 
 
 Vanish'd the Saxon's struggling spear, \ 
 
 Vanish'd the mountain-sword. ^^ 
 
 \ 
 
THE GUARD-ROOM, 203 
 
 As Bracklinn's chasm^ so black and steep, 
 
 Receives lier roaring linn, 
 As the dark caverns of the deep 
 
 Suck the wild whirlpool in, 490 
 
 So did the deep and darksome pass 
 Devour the battle's mingled mass : 
 None linger now upon the plain, 
 Save those who ne'er shall fight again. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 ^^ E"ow westward rolls the battle's din, 
 That deep and doubling pass within. — 
 Minstrel, away ! the Avork of fate 
 Is bearing on : its issue wait. 
 Where the rude Trosachs' dread defile 
 Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. — 500 
 
 Gray Benvenue I soon repass'd. 
 Loch Katrine lay beneath me cast. 
 The sun is set ; — the clouds are met. 
 
 The lowering scowl of heaven 
 An inky hue of livid blue 
 
 To the deep lake has given ; 
 Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen 
 Swept o'er the lake, then sunk agen. 
 I heeded not the eddying surge. 
 Mine eye but saw the Trosachs' gorge, 510 
 
204 TflE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Mine ear but heard the sullen sound, 
 Which like an earthquake shook the ground, 
 And spoke the stern and desperate strife 
 That parts not but with parting life, 
 Seeming, to minstrel ear, to toll 
 The dirge of many a passing soul. 
 
 Nearer it comes — the dim-wood glen 
 The martial flood disgorged agen. 
 
 But not in mingled tide ; 
 The plaided warriors of the North 520 
 
 High on the mountain thunder forth 
 
 And overhang its side ; 
 While by the lake below appears 
 The darkening cloud of Saxon spears. 
 At weary bay each shattered band. 
 Eyeing their foemen, sternly stand ; 
 Their banners stream like tatter'd sail, 
 That flings its fragments to the gale. 
 And broken arms and disarray 
 Mark'd the fell havoc of the day. 530 
 
 XX. 
 
 '' Viewing the mountain's ridge askance^ 
 The Saxon stood in sullen trance. 
 Till Moray pointed with his lance, 
 
 And cried — ^ Behold yon isle ! — 
 See ! none are left to guard its strand. 
 
THE GUARD-BOOM. 205 
 
 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-shot o'er, 540 
 
 And loose a shallop from the shore. 
 Lightly we'll tame 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 clamors Benvenue 
 
 A mingled echo gave ; 
 The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, 550 
 
 The helpless females scream for fear. 
 And yells for rage the mountaineer. 
 'Twas then, as by the outcry riven, 
 Pour'd down at once the lowering heaven ; 
 A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine's breast. 
 Her billows rear'd their snowy crest. 
 Well for the swimmer swell'd they high, 
 To mar the Highland marksman's eye ; 
 For round him shower'd, 'mid rain and hail. 
 The vengeful arrows of the Gael. — 560 
 
 In vain — He nears the isle — and lo ! 
 His hand is on a shallop's bow. 
 
206 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 Just then a flash of lightning came, 
 
 It tinged the waves and strand with flame ; — 
 
 I mark'd Duncraggan's widow'd dame, 
 
 Behind an oak I saw her stand, 
 
 A naked dirk gleam' d in her hand : — 
 
 It darkened, — but amid the moan 
 
 Of waves, I heard a dying groan ; — 
 
 Another flash ! — the spearman floats 570 
 
 A weltering corse beside the boats. 
 
 And the stern matron o'er him stood, 
 
 Her hand and dagger streaming blood. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 '^ ' Revenge ! revenge ! ' the Saxons cried, 
 
 The Gaels' exulting shout replied. 
 
 Despite the elemental rage. 
 
 Again they hurried to engage ; 
 
 But, ere they closed in desperate fight, 
 
 Bloody with spurring came a knight, 
 
 Sprung from his horse, and, from a crag, 580 
 
 Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white flag. 
 
 Clarion and trumpet by his side 
 
 Rung forth a truce-note high and wide, 
 
 While, in the Monarch's name, afar 
 
 An herald's voice forbade the war. 
 
 For Bothwell's lord, and Roderick bold, 
 
THE GUARD-BOOM, 207 | 
 
 Were both, lie said, in captive hold.'' — * | 
 
 But here the lay made sudden stand, ^ 
 
 The harp escaped the Minstrel's hand ! ' 
 
 Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 590 ! 
 
 How Roderick brook'd his minstrelsy : : 
 At first, the Chieftain, to the chime, 
 
 With lifted hand kept feeble time ; | 
 
 That motion ceased, — yet feeling strong j 
 
 Varied his look as changed the song ; | 
 
 At length, no more his deafen'd ear \ 
 The minstrel melody can hear ; 
 His face grows sharp, — his hands are clench'd, 
 
 As if some pang his heart-strings wrench'd; ■ 
 
 Set are his teeth, his fading eye 600 I 
 
 Is sternly fix'd on vacancy ; j 
 
 Thus, motionless and moanless, drew i 
 
 His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu ! — i 
 
 Old Allan-bane look'd on aghast, . \ 
 
 While grim and still his spirit passed ; ^| 
 
 But when he saw that life was fled, | 
 
 He pour'd his wailing o'er the dead. j 
 
 XXII. I 
 
 Lament. '; 
 
 '^ And art thou cold, and lowly laid. 
 
 Thy foemen's dread, thy people's aid, ^ 
 
208 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Breadalbane's boast, Clan-Alpine's shade ! 610 
 
 For thee shall none a requiem say ? — 
 
 For thee, — who loved the minstrel's lay, 
 
 For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay, 
 
 The shelter of her exiled line. 
 
 E'en in this prison-house of thine, 
 
 ril wail for Alpine's honor'd Pine ! 
 
 ^^ What groans shall yonder valleys fill ! 
 
 What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill ! 
 
 What tears of burning rage shall thrill, 
 
 When mourns thy tribe thy battles done, 620 
 
 Thy fall before the race was won. 
 
 Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun ! 
 
 There breathes not clansman of thy line, 
 
 But would have given his life for thine. — 
 
 O woe for Alpine's honor'd Pine ! 
 
 '' Sad was thy lot on mortal stage ! — 
 
 The captive thrush may brook the cage, 
 
 The prison'd eagle dies for rage. 
 
 Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain ! 
 
 And, when its notes awake again, 630 
 
 Even she, so long beloved in vain. 
 
 Shall with my harp her voice combine. 
 
 And mix her woe and tears with mine. 
 
 To wail Clan-Alpine's honor'd Pine." — 
 
THE GUARD-BOOM, 209 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Ellen, the while, with bursting heart, 
 
 Remained in lordly bower apart, 
 
 Where played, with many-color'd gleams, 
 
 Through storied pane the rising beams. 
 
 In vain on gilded roof they fall. 
 
 And lightened up a tapestried wall, 640 
 
 And for her use a menial train 
 
 A rich collation spread in vain. 
 
 The banquet proud, the chamber gay, 
 
 Scarce drew one .curious glance astray ; 
 
 Or if she look'd, 'twas but to say. 
 
 With better omen dawn'd the day 
 
 In that lone isle, where waved on high 
 
 The dun-deer's hide for canopy ; 
 
 Where oft her noble father shared 
 
 The simple meal her care prepared, 650 
 
 While Lufra, crouching by her side, 
 
 Her station claimed with jealous pride. 
 
 And Douglas, bent on woodland game. 
 
 Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Graeme, 
 
 Whose answer, oft at random made, 
 
 The wandering of his thoughts betray'd. — 
 
 Those who such simple joys have known. 
 
 Are taught to prize them when they're gone. 
 
 But sudden, see, she lifts her head, 
 
 The window seeks with cautious tread. 660 
 
210 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 What distant music has the power 
 To win her in this woful hour ! 
 ^Twas from a turret that o'erhung 
 Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Lay of tae Iinpriso7ied Huntsman, 
 
 " 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 I were as I have been, 
 
 Hunting the hart in forests green, 670 
 
 With bended bow and bloodhound free. 
 
 For that's the life is meet for me. 
 
 I hate to learn the ebb of time 
 
 Erom yon dull steeple's drowsy chime, 
 
 Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl. 
 
 Inch after inch, along the wall. 
 
 The lark was wont my matins ring, 
 
 The sable rook my vespers sing ; 
 
 These towers, although a king's they be. 
 
 Have not a hall of joy for me. 680 
 
 No more at dawning morn I rise, 
 
 A^d sun myself in Ellen's eyes. 
 
 Drive the fleet deer the forest through, 
 
 And homeward wend with evening dew ; 
 
THE GUARD-BOOM. 211 
 
 A blithesome welcome blithely meet, 
 And lay my trophies at her feet, 
 While fled the eve on wing of glee, — 
 That life is lost to love and me ! '' — 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The heart-sick lay was hardly said, 
 
 The listener had not tnrn'd her head, 690 
 
 It trickled still, the starting tear. 
 
 When light a footstep struck her ear. 
 
 And Snowdoun's graceful Knight was near. 
 
 She turn'd the hastier, lest again 
 
 The prisoner should renew his strain. 
 
 " welcome, brave Fitz-James ! ^' she said ; 
 
 ^' How may an almost orphan maid 
 
 Pay the deep debt '' — ^^0 say not so ! 
 
 To me no gratitude you owe. 
 
 Not mine, alas ! the boon to give, 700 
 
 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 lay his better mood aside. 
 
 Come, Ellen, corne ! 'tis more than time, 
 
 He holds his court at morning prime.'' 
 
 With beating heart, and bosom wrung. 
 
 As to a brother's arm she clung. 
 
212 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Gently he dried the falling t^ar, 710 
 
 And gently whispered hope and cheer ; 
 Her faltering steps half led, half staid, 
 Through gallery fair and high arcade, 
 Till, at his touch, its wings of pride 
 A portal arch unfolded wide. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Within 'twas brilliant all and light, 
 
 A thronging scene of figures bright ; 
 
 It glow'd on Ellen's dazzled sight. 
 
 As when the setting sun has given 
 
 Ten thousand hues to summer even, 720 
 
 And, from their tissue, fancy frames 
 
 Aerial knights and fairy dames. 
 
 Still by Fitz-James her footing staid ; 
 
 A few faint steps she forward made. 
 
 Then slow her drooping head she raised, 
 
 And fearful round the. presence gazed; 
 
 For him she sought who own'd this state, 
 
 The dreaded Prince whose will was fate ! — 
 
 She gazed on many a princely port. 
 
 Might well have ruled a royal court ; 730 
 
 On many a splendid garb she gazed, — 
 
 Then turn'd bewildered and amazed. 
 
 For all stood bare ; and, in the room, 
 
 Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. 
 
THE GUARD-BOOM, 213 
 
 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 King ! 740 
 
 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 show'd the ring, — she clasp'd her hands. 
 
 not a moment could he brook. 
 
 The generous Prince, that suppliant look ! 
 
 Gently he raised her, — and, the w^hile, 
 
 Check'd with a glance the circle's smile ; 750 
 
 Graceful, but grave, her brow he kiss'd. 
 
 And bade her terrors be dismissed : — 
 
 '' Yes, Fair ; the wandering poor Fitz-James 
 
 The fealty of Scotland claims. 
 
 To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring ; 
 
 He will redeem his signet ring. 
 
 Ask naught for Douglas ; — yester even, 
 
 His Prince and he have much forgiven : 
 
 Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue, 
 
214 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. T60 
 
 "We would not, to the vulgar crowd, 
 
 Yield what they craved with clamor loud ; 
 
 Calmly we heard and judged his cause, 
 
 Our council aided, and our laws. 
 
 I stanch'd thy father's death-feud stern. 
 
 With stout De Vaux and gray Glencairn ; 
 
 And BothwelPs Lord henceforth we own 
 
 The friend and bulwark of our Throne. — 
 
 But, lovely infidel, how now ? 
 
 What clouds thy misbelieving brow ? — 770 
 
 Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid ; 
 
 Thou must confirm this doubting maid." — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Then forth the noble Douglas sprung, 
 
 And on his neck his daughter hung. 
 
 The monarch drank, that happy hour. 
 
 The sweetest, holiest draught of Power, — 
 
 When it can say, with godlike voice. 
 
 Arise, sad Virtue, and rejoice ! 
 
 Yet would not James the general eye 
 
 On Nature's raptures long should pry ; 780 
 
 He stepp'd between — ^^^N'ay, Douglas, nay, 
 
 Steal not my proselyte away ! 
 
 The riddle 'tis my right to read. 
 
 That brought this happy chance to speed. — 
 
THE GUARD-BOOM. 215 
 
 Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray 
 
 In Hfe's more low but happier way, 
 
 'Tis under name which veils my power, 
 
 Nor falsely veils — for Stirling's tower 
 
 Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims. 
 
 And Normans call me James Fitz-James. 790 
 
 Thus watch I o'er insulted laws, 
 
 Thus learn to right the injured cause.'' 
 
 Then, in a tone apart and low, — 
 
 '^ Ah, little traitress ! none must know 
 
 What idle dream, what lighter thought, 
 
 What vanity full dearly bought, 
 
 Join'd to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drew 
 
 My spell-bound steps to Benvenue 
 
 In dangerous hour, and all but gave 
 
 Thy monarch's life to mountain glaive ! " — 800 
 
 Aloud he spoke — '' Thou still dost hold 
 
 That little talisman of gold. 
 
 Pledge of my faith, Fitz- James's ring — 
 
 What seeks fair Ellen of the King ? " 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Full well the conscious maiden guess'd 
 He prob'd the weakness of her breast ; 
 But, with that consciousness, there came 
 A lightening of her fears for Graeme, 
 And more she deem'd the monarch's ire 
 
216 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Kindled 'gainst him^ who, for her sire, 810 
 
 Eebellious 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. 
 
 I know his heart, I know his hand. 
 
 Have shared his cheer, and proved his brand ; — 
 
 My fairest earldom would I give 
 
 To bid Clan- Alpine's Chieftain live ! — 
 
 Hast thou no other boon to crave ? 820 
 
 No other captive friend to save ? " 
 
 Blushing, she turn'd her from the King, . 
 
 And to the Douglas gave the ring, 
 
 As if she wish'd her sire to speak 
 
 The suit that stain'd her glowing cheek. — 
 
 " Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force, 
 
 And stubborn justice holds her course. 
 
 Malcolm, come forth ! " — and, at the word, 
 
 Down kneel'd the Graeme to Scotland's Lord. 
 
 '^ For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, 830 
 
 From thee may Vengeance claim her dues, 
 
 Who, nurtured underneath our smile. 
 
 Hast paid our care by treacherous wile, 
 
 And sought, amid thy faithful clan, 
 
 A refuge for an outlaw'd man, 
 
 Dishonoring thus thy loyal name. — 
 
THE GUABB-ROOM. 217 
 
 Fetters and warder for the Graeme ! ^^ — 
 
 His chain of gold the King unstrung, 
 
 The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung, 
 
 Then gently drew the glittering band, 840 
 
 And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. 
 
 Harp of the North, farewell ! The hills grow dark. 
 
 On purple peaks a deeper shade descending ; 
 In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark. 
 
 The deer, half -seen, are to the covert wending. 
 Eesume thy wizard elm ! the fountain lending. 
 
 And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; 
 Thy numbers sweet with Nature's vespers blending. 
 
 With distant echo from the fold and lea. 
 And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee. 
 
 Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp ! 851 
 
 Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway. 
 And little reck I of the censure sharp 
 
 May idly cavil at an idle lay. 
 Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way. 
 
 Through secret woes the world has never known, 
 When on the weary night dawn'd wearier day, 
 
 And bitterer was the grief devour'd alone. 
 That I o'erlive such woes, Enchantress ! is thine own. 
 
218 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 Hark ! as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 860 
 
 Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string ! 
 'Tis now a Seraph bold, with touch of fire, 
 
 'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. 
 Eeceding now, the dying numbers ring 
 
 Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell. 
 And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring 
 
 A wandering witch-note of the distant spell — 
 And now, 'tis silent all ! — Enchantress, fare thee well ! 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 The Chase. 
 Abbreviations. 
 
 Cf . = confer, compare. 
 
 i.e. = id est, that is. 
 
 e.g. = exempli gratia, for example. 
 
 Each canto begins with one or more Spenserian stanzas, so called 
 because first used by Edmund Spenser. The Spenserian stanza con- 
 sists of nine lines, the prevailing foot being the iambus (two syllables, 
 with the accent on the second). The first eight lines have five feet 
 (iambic pentameter) ; the ninth line has six feet (iambic hexameter), 
 and is called an Alexandrine. The first and third lines rhyme, the 
 second, fourth, fifth, and seventh, and the sixth, eighth, and ninth. 
 The metre of the poem proper is iambic tetrameter; that is, the pre- 
 vailing foot is the iambus, and there are four feet in the line. (See 
 Parsons's " English Versification.") 
 
 2. Witch-elm ; i.e., the drooping or bending elm. 
 Saint Fillan was a famous Scotch saint of the seventh century. 
 " Thence to Saint Fillan 's blessed well, 
 Whose springs can frenzied dreams dispel. 
 And the crazed brain restore." — Marmion, i. 29. . 
 4. Envious ivy. Envious of the musical powers of the harp. 
 10. Caledon. Caledonia was the ancient name of Scotland. 
 14. According pause. Each pause in the song was filled by the 
 according music of the harp. 
 17. Burden ; i.e., the subject. 
 
 20. Thy magic maze. Maze, labyrinth. Applied to the harp on 
 account of the confusing variety of sounds. 
 
 29. Monan's rill. Saint Monan was a Scotch martyr of the 
 fourth century. 
 
 219 
 
220 , SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 31. Glenartney's. A glen along the Artney River, between Ben- 
 voirlich on the north and Uam-Var on the south. (See map.) 
 
 33. Beiivoirlich's. Ben in Gaelic means mountain. 
 
 35. Observe the alliteration in this and other lines. (See Par- 
 sons's " English Versification.") 
 
 38. Observe that the simile comes before the object it illustrates. 
 (See vi. 741 and note.) 
 
 42. Ere. Good in poetry, not in prose. Other examples found in 
 this poem are adoivn, perforce, fain ^ yon, erst, happed, steepy, etc. 
 
 45. Beamed frontlet. Forehead well furnished with horns. 
 
 47. Tainted with the scent of his pursuers. 
 
 48. Cry. Properly the yelping of the hounds, but sometimes the 
 pack of hounds. 
 
 49. Chase. Sometimes the act of pursuit, sometimes the thing 
 pursued, but here the pursuers. 
 
 53. Uam-Var. The name signifies the great den or cavern. 
 
 54. Upon obtaining a view of the stag, the pack of hounds burst 
 into cry. 
 
 55. Paid them back. Echoed. Notice the spirited description 
 of the echo. 
 
 58. An. Not now used before h pronounced, unless the word is 
 accented on the second syllable. « 
 
 QQ. Cairn. A heap of stones. 
 
 67. Rout. (1) Defeat. (2) A troop or crowd of people. (See 
 Skeat's '• Etymological Dictionary.") 
 
 69. Hurricane; i.e., the wild rush of hunters, horses, and 
 hounds. 
 
 71. Linn. A pool or cascade. Cf . Bracklinn, ii. 270. 
 
 84. Shrewdly. Severely. (See Skeat's " Etymological Dic- 
 tionary.") 
 
 89. 3Ienteith. The country of the Piver Teith. 
 
 90. Lochard ; i.e.. Loch Ard. Aberfoyle. Ci. Aberdeen. Aber 
 means a confluence. 
 
 102. 'Twere. It would be. 
 
 103. Cambusmore. Two miles from Callander. 
 
 105. Benledi. " Mountain of God," nearly 3,000 feet high. 
 
 111. Vennachar. " Lake of the Fair Valley." 
 
 112. Brigg of Turk. This bridge was '' the scene of the death of 
 a wild boar famous in Celtic tradition." 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 221 
 
 115. Scourge and steel. Whip and spur. In steel for spur (else- 
 where for sioord) we have material put for the thing, — metonymy. 
 
 120. Saint Hubert's breed. The abbots of Saint Hubert kept 
 some of this black breed in honor of the saint, who was a hunter. 
 
 122. Flying- traces. Notice the transf errence of the epithet flying 
 from the stag to the track that he leaves behind him. 
 
 127. Quarry. The hunted animal. 
 
 130. Stock. Stump. 
 
 133. Turn to bay. Turn and face the hounds. 
 
 137. Death- wound. '' When the stag turned to bay, the ancient 
 hunter had the perilous task of going in upon, and killing or disabling, 
 the desperate animal. At certain times of the year this was held 
 particularly dangerous, a wound received from a stag's horn being 
 then deemed poisonous, and more dangerous than one from the tusks 
 of a boar. ... At all times, however, the task was dangerous, and 
 to be adventured upon wisely and warily, either by getting behind 
 the stag while he was gazing on the hounds, or by watching an 
 opportunity to gallop roundly in upon him, and kill him with the 
 sword." —Scott. 
 
 138. Whinyard. A short sword. Cf. lohinger and hanger. 
 142. Turn'd him would be turned himself in prose. 
 
 145. Trosachs, or Trossachs, means " the rough or bristled terri- 
 tory," especially the pass between Loch Katrine and Loch Vennachar. 
 
 150. Amain. With main force. Cf. might and main. 
 
 151. Chiding. Cf. chide, 1. 287. 
 
 163. Banks of Seine. James visited France in 1536. 
 
 166. Woe worth. Woe be to. 
 
 184, etc. Notice the accurate and minute description. ''Landscape 
 Painting in Poetry." 
 
 '' He sees everything with a painter's eye. Whatever he represents 
 has a character of individuality, and is drawn with an accuracy and 
 minuteness of discrimination which we are not accustomed to expect 
 from mere verbal description. It is because Mr. Scott usually deline- 
 ates those objects with which he is perfectly familiar that his touch is 
 so easy, correct, and animated. The rocks, the ravines, and the tor- 
 rents which he exhibits are not the imperfect sketches of a hurried 
 traveller, but the finished studies of a resident artist." — Quarterly 
 Review, May, 1810. 
 
 See 1. 278, note. 
 
222 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 193. Thunder-splinter'd ; i.e., lightning-splintered. Cf . thun- 
 der-bolty thunder-struck. 
 
 196, 197. The tower ... on Sliiiiar's plain. The tower of 
 Babel. (See Genesis xi. 1-9.) 
 
 202. Pagod = pagoda. Crests as wild as. 
 
 208. Sheen is here an adjective ; bright. It is sometimes a noun ; 
 brightness. 
 
 212. Boon. Bountiful. 
 
 217. Clift is the reading of the first editions ; later editions have 
 cliff. Bower. A retired chamber or room. 
 
 218, 219. See Buskin's " Modern Painters," vol. iii. 
 
 222, 223. An imperfect rhyme, not to be explained by peculiarity 
 of Scotch pronunciation. Cf . 221, 225, 256, 257, 435, 436, 445, 456. 
 
 See Parsons's " English Versification," ch. vi. 
 
 227. Frequent. This use of adjective for adverb is common in 
 poetry. See 266 and elsewhere. 
 
 231. Streamers of the rose, the ivy, or other vines. 
 
 238. Brim. Properly the edge, border, but here the surface. 
 
 239. To swim = for swimming. Cf . to rise, 1. 159. 
 
 240. 241. Ijost, veering, broader, all refer to inlet, 1. 237. This 
 loose construction would not do in prose. 
 
 245. Its. The inlet's. 
 
 2^6. Nice. Observe the correct meaning here. For rhyme see 
 note on 11. 222, 223. 
 
 267. Livelier. "Because in motion?" or "brighter as distin- 
 guished from the darker purple of the islands ? " 
 
 272. Confusedly. Three syllables. 
 
 274. Wildering. Bewildering. See 434. 
 
 278, etc. " Perhaps the art of landscape-painting in poetry has 
 never been displayed in higher perfection than in these stanzas, to 
 which rigid criticism might possibly object that the picture is some- 
 what too minute, and that the contemplation of it detains the trav- 
 eller somewhat too long from the main purpose of his pilgrimage, but 
 which it would be an act of the greatest injustice to break into frag- 
 ments and present by piecemeal. Not so the magnificent scene 
 which bursts upon the bewildered hunter as he emerges at length 
 from the dell, and commands at one view the beautiful expanse of 
 Loch Katrine." — Critical Review, August, 1820. 
 
 287. Chide. See 1. 151. 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 223 
 
 302. Beshrew. Curse (mildly). 
 
 317. Fall = befall, happen. 
 
 319. Wound. Winded would be the better form. The same is 
 true of iii. 15. See 1. 500. 
 
 322. Islet and isle in poetry ; island in prose. 
 
 342.- Naiad. Water-nymph. 
 
 363. Snood. See iii. 114. Plaid. A perfect rhyme. 
 
 "■^7 Confess'd. Bore witness to. Not the modern meaning. 
 
 389. Silent horn. Silence of the horn; impatient because the 
 horn is silent. Cf. ii. 776, punishment delay'd. 
 
 401. Between. Here an adverb. 
 
 408. Wont. Are wont, or accustomed. Now obsolete as a verb. 
 
 409. Middle age. James was only thirty when he died. 
 413. Frolic. The adjective is now frolicsome. 
 
 420. Blade. Sword. A part for the whole, — synecdoche. 
 434. Wilder'd. Bewildered; lost in the ivilds, or wilderness. 
 See 274. • 
 441. Mere. Lake. Cf. Windermere. 
 443. Rood. Cross; crucifix. 
 
 449. For another instance of fair used as a noun, see ii. 80. 
 -—'"^77"' Yesternight. Obsolete; but we still have fortnight and 
 yesterday, 
 464. Ljincoln green. Green cloth made in Lincoln. 
 
 475. Errant-Knight. Knight-errant is the correct form now. 
 
 476. Sooth. Here an adjective meaning true. Cf. forsooth, in 
 sooth. 
 
 478. Front = confront, face. Emprise. Enterprise. 
 
 481. Frigate. Properly a large vessel. 
 
 489. Behind. Here an adverb. Cf . between, 401. 
 
 492. Rocky isle. ''It is a little island, but very famous in Ro- 
 mance-land as * Ellen's Isle ; ' for Ellen, as almost everybody knows, 
 was the name of the Lady of the Lake. ... It is mostly composed- of 
 dark gray rocks, mottled with pale and gray lichens, peeping out here 
 and there amid trees that mantle them, — chiefly light, graceful 
 birches, intermingled with red-berried mountain ashes, and a few 
 dark-green, spiry pines. ... A more poetic, romantic retreat could 
 hardly be imagined ; it is unique. It is completely hidden, not only 
 by the trees, but also by an undergrowth of beautiful and abundant 
 ferns, and the loveliest of heather." — Hunnewell's Lands of Scott. 
 
224 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 496. That neither track nor pathway might declare. 
 
 500. Winded. We should expect luound. See 1. 319, and v. 22. 
 
 506, 507. Not a perfect rhyme. 
 
 525. Idaeaii vine. Some say that this is the vitis Idsea, or red 
 whortleberry; others say that it is the common vine, and that Idsean 
 is simply the adjective formed from Ida, a mountain near ancient 
 Troy, famous for its vines. 
 
 528. Observe the elipsis of that, or which, before could bear. 
 
 536, 537. For the omen, see ii. 309, 310. 
 
 546. Target. Cf. targe, iii. 445, v. 380. 
 
 548. Arrows store = store (i.e., plenty) of arrows. Cf. iii. 3, 
 and vi. 124. 
 
 558. Tapestry. Here two syllables. 
 
 566. Brook. Endure. 
 
 573. Ferragus or Ascabart. Two giants in old romance, one 
 forty, and the other thirty, feet tall. 
 
 574. Hold = stronghold. 
 
 581. For the exact relationship, see ii. 252. 
 
 585. '' The Highlanders, who carried hospitality to a punctilious 
 excess, are said to have considered it as churlish to ask a stranger his 
 name or lineage before he had taken refreshment. Feuds were so 
 frequent among them, that a contrary rule would in many cases have 
 produced the discovery of some circumstance which might have ex- 
 cluded the guest from the benefit of the assistance he stood in need 
 of." — ^co^^. 
 
 591. Snowdoun. Stirling Castle. James Fitz- James. James 
 the son of James. 
 
 592. Barren. On account of the misfortunes of the earlier 
 Jameses, and the internal feuds of Scotch chiefs. 
 
 596. Wot = knows. From obsolete verb, of which the infinitive 
 to wit, is still found in legal forms. 
 
 598. If any particular Lord Moray is meant, probably it is James 
 Stewart, a natural son of James IV., and brother of James V. 
 
 602. Require = request. 
 
 616. Observe the alliteration. Weird. Skilled in witchcraft. 
 Down = hill. 
 
 624. Observe the change to trochaic metre ; that is, the prevailing 
 foot is a trochee, — an accented, followed by an unaccented, syllable. 
 
 629. For the material of the couch, see 11. 437, 438, and 667. 
 
NOTES OJSr THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 225 I 
 
 ] 
 
 \ 
 
 631. Dewing = bedewing. Cf. wilder'd, 1. 434. | 
 
 638. Pibroch. Strictly a Highland air, usually played on the ] 
 
 bagpipe ; but here it means the bagpipe. j 
 
 642. Bittern. A marsh bird ; small heron. ' 
 
 646. Here's. Would be /iere are in prose. = 
 
 648. Led. the lay. Gave the song a new turn. i 
 657. Notice the ellipsis of that. Reveille. Awakening. 
 
 664. Ye is properly nominative case, but is used here instead of ; 
 
 you for the sake of the rhyme. 
 
 672. Not = not even. - ; 
 
 694, etc. '' Such a strange and romantic dream as may be naturally ' 
 
 expected to flow from the extraordinary events of the past day. It I 
 
 might, perhaps, be quoted as one of Mr. Scott's most successful efforts ■ 
 
 in descriptive poetry. Some few lines of it are indeed unrivalled for i 
 
 delicacy and melancholy tenderness." — Critical Eevieiv. I 
 
 704. Grisly. Horrible, frightful. 
 
 706. Affright. Would now be /?^i^7i^ j 
 
 721. How quiet the night must have been ! I 
 
 727. Communed. Notice the accent. : 
 738. Orisons. Prayers. 
 
 740. Told. To tell is to count; e.g., *'to tell one's beads." Cf. I 
 
 teller and tally. j 
 
 ■ i 
 
 CANTO SECOND. ^ 
 
 I 
 
 The Island. \ 
 
 1. Jetty. Black as jet. -[ 
 7. Minstrel. " Highland chieftains, to a late period, retained ^ 
 
 in their service the bard, as a family officer." — Scott. \ 
 
 19. High place. Supply be after place. ! 
 
 35. Remember what happened to you formerly. j 
 
 37. Main. Principal body of water. Cf. mainland. ] 
 
 56. As = as if. \ 
 
 74. Was it a breach of fidelity to Malcolm that Ellen showed | 
 
 some interest in the stranger? - 
 
 80. Fair. Cf . i. 449 and 528. \ 
 
 86. After should be afterivard in prose. After is properly a J 
 
 preposition or a conjunction, but no longer an adverb. 
 
226 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 94. Parts = departs. Cf. dewing , wildered, used for hedeioing 
 and bewildered. 
 
 100. Had = would have. 
 
 106. Thee would be thyself in prose. 
 
 109. '' The ancient and powerful family of Graham (which, for 
 metrical reasons, is here spelled after the Scottish pronunciation) held 
 extensive possessions in the counties of Dumbarton and Stirling. 
 Few families can boast of more historical renown, having claim to 
 three of the most remarkable characters in the Scottish annals, Sir 
 John the Graeme, the celebrated Marquis of Montrose, and John 
 Graeme, of Claverhouse, Viscount of Dundee." — Scott. 
 
 112. In hall and bower = among men and women. 
 
 131. Erst = formerly. See i. 42. Saint Modan. A Scotch 
 abbot of the seventh century. " I am not prepared to show that Saint 
 Modan was a performer on the harp. It was, however, no unsaintly 
 accomplishment." — Scott. 
 
 141. Bothwell Castle is on the Clyde, near Glasgow. 
 
 142. An allusion to the downfall of the Douglases of the house of 
 Angus, during the reign of James Y. 
 
 143. Heaven = sky, and so country. 
 
 151. Fraught. Filled with. Cf. Freight. 
 
 159. From Tweed to Spey == from one extremity to the other ; 
 throughout Scotland. What marvel. What wonder is it that, etc. 
 
 161. Confusedly. See i. 272. 
 
 166. Sire. The subject of resigned, in 168. 
 
 170. Reave, Rob, tear away. Now obsolete in prose. Cf. be- 
 reave and rive. 
 
 172. For = as for. 
 
 186. Wiled. Coaxed, as by flattery. 
 
 194. Birthright is here an adjective. 
 
 198. Ijeading star = lode-star. 
 
 200. Bleeding Heart was the badge of the Douglas family. 
 
 206. Strathspey. A lively Scottish dance, common in the strathy 
 or valley, of the River Spey. See 1. 159. 
 
 209. See 172. 
 
 213. Clan-Alpine's pride. Clan-Alpine = descendants of Alpin 
 or Alpine, an ancient king of Scotland. Hence Mac Alpine. 
 
 214. LiOch LiOmond. About twenty-three miles long and five 
 broad. 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 227 
 
 • 
 
 216. The Lennox family dwelt south of Loch Lomond, and gave 
 their name to that district. 
 
 22L Holy-Rood. The royal palace at Edinburgh. 
 
 227-231. This is not an exaggeration. Woe the day = may woe 
 be to the day. 
 
 234. Supply that after now. 
 
 235. Guerdon. Reward. 
 
 236. Dispensation. This was necessary because Roderick and 
 Ellen were cousins. 
 
 240. Supply may before he. 
 
 251. Orphan, from its position, would seem to be in apposition to 
 she, but it is in apposition to child. 
 260. Maronnan's cell. At the eastern extremity of Loch Lomond. 
 
 270. Bracklinn's. For linn see i. 71. 
 
 271. Save = except when, unless. In prose save is not good either 
 as conjunction or as preposition. 
 
 275, 276. The sword itself would feel more mercy than would 
 Roderick. 
 292. Instinctive. Adjective for adverb. 
 303. Woe the while. See 227, and i. 166. 
 
 306. Tine-man. ''Archibald, the third Earl of Douglas, was so 
 unfortunate in all his enterprises, that he acquired the epithet of Tine- 
 man, because he fined, or lost, his followers in every battle w^hich he 
 fought." — Scott. 
 
 307. What time = at the time when. Cf . Latin quo tempore. 
 309, 310. See i. 536, 537. 
 
 311. Harbored = taken shelter. Rare as an intransitive verb. 
 
 319. Beltane. A May-day Celtic festival. 
 
 327. Canna. Cotton-grass. 
 
 330. Pibroch. See i. 638. 
 
 335. Glengyle. A valley at the upper end of Loch Katrine. 
 
 337. Brianchoil. On the north shore of Loch Katrine. 
 
 340. Pine. The emblem of Clan-Alpine. 
 
 343. Tartans brave. Gay plaids. 
 
 345. Bonnets. Here means men's caps. 
 
 351. Chanters. Pipes of the bagpipes. 
 
 357. Sound. The first edition has sounds. 
 
 362. Gathering. The tune for summoning the clans to gather 
 together for war. 
 
228 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 9 
 
 367. Hurrying belongs to the noun for which their stands. 
 
 392. Burden. The subject, theme, chorus, refrain. The " bur- 
 den " of this song was, " Roderich Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe ! " 
 See i. 17. 
 
 399. Notice the change from iambic to dactylic metre. The dactyl 
 is afoot of one accented, followed by two unaccented, syllables. 
 
 400. Pine. See 1. 340. 
 
 405. Bourgeon. Sprout, bud. 
 
 408. Vich = son, or descendant; dhu = black. Black Roderick, 
 the descendant of Alpine. 
 
 410. Beltane. Here used to denote the season, May. See 319. 
 
 412. The more. In this phrase the is called an adverb. 
 
 416. Menteith. See i. 89. Breadalbane. The country north 
 of Loch Lomond, around Loch Tay, extending as far west as 
 Perthshire. 
 
 419. Glen Fruin. A valley south-west of Loch Lomond. 
 
 420. Slogan. The battle-cry of the Highlanders. 
 
 421. Bannochar, Glen Luss, and Ross-dhu are in the neigh- 
 borhood of Glen Fruin. 
 
 426. L/ennox. See 216. Leven-glen. The valley of the Leven, 
 a river which connects Loch Lomond with the Clyde. 
 
 431. The rosebud. Ellen. O that Ellen should marry Roderick 
 and bear him offspring ! 
 
 446. Passion. In apposition to Ellen. His. The Chieftain, 
 her kinsman's. 
 
 454. Mid-path. Midway, half-way. 
 
 465, 466. Some feelings with less of earth in them than heaven are 
 given to mortals. Observe the double, or feminine, rhyme. Accent 
 and rhyme fall on the penult; that is, there is an extra, unaccented 
 syllable at the end. (See Parsons's " English Versification.") 
 
 476. Weep'd. Used only for the rhyme. 
 
 497. Percy's Norman pennon. Won by the Earl of Douglas in 
 1388. It furnished the theme of Scotch and English ballads. Per- 
 haps Ellen's father carried it as a trophy, and perhaps a later capture 
 of a pennon is alluded to. 
 
 501. Pomp. Triumphal procession. 
 
 506. Blantyre. A priory opposite Bothwell Castle. 
 
 508. As. The correlative of so in 502. 
 
 529. Aught. An adverb here, qualifying o'erioeigh^d. 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 229 
 
 541. Ptarmigan. White grouse. 
 
 548. Ben I/omond. The highest mountain near Loch Lomond. 
 
 549. Notice the peculiar meaning of sob. Confess. See i. 377. 
 571, 572. If I were deprived of that gallant pastime, all that I have 
 
 left of the characteristics of Douglas would be reft from me. 
 574. Glenfinlas = *' glen of the green women." 
 
 577. Royal ward. Under the guardianship of the king, because 
 without natural guardians and under age. 
 
 578. Risked. By assisting Douglas, an outlaw. 
 
 582. Spleen. Anger. For the cause of the spleen, see 315-322. 
 
 591. Ijight = light-armed. 
 
 594. Were the neTi^s. News is singular now. 
 
 601. As. See 56. 
 
 616. In 1529 James swept through Ettrick Forest with an army of 
 ten thousand men, and " tamed the Border-side." 
 
 623. Lioud cries their blood. For vengeance. The Meg gat flows 
 into the Yarrow, the Yarrow into the Ettrick, the Ettrick into the 
 Tweed. The Teviot also flows into the Tweed. 
 
 638. Give me your counsel in the difficulties that I disclose. 
 
 642. This. Ellen. That. Margaret. 
 
 674. Allies. Here accented on the first syllable. EnoTV = enough. 
 
 678. Links. Windings. 
 
 679. Stirling's porch. Stirling Castle was a favorite residence 
 of the Scotch kings. 
 
 683. Blench = shrink. 
 
 692. After are supply tJiose. Cf . Latin sunt qui. 
 
 702. Battled. Battlemented. 
 
 708. Astound. Shortened from astounded for the metre. 
 
 726, 727, For similar construction, see i. 407. 
 
 747. Nighted = benighted. Cf. loildered, dewing, etc. 
 
 763. Parting = departing. See preceding line. 
 
 774. See 319. 
 
 776. Punishment delayed = delay of punishment. See i. 389. 
 
 782. Had been = would have been. 
 
 786. I shall regard as my foe the first who strikes. 
 
 798. As = as if. 
 
 801. Addressed to Malcolm. *^ Hardihood was in every respect so 
 essential to the character of a Highlander, that the reproach of effemi- 
 nacy was the most bitter that could be thrown upon him." — Scott. 
 
230 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 804. Fell. Hill. 
 
 805. Jjackey. To attend as a lackey. Not common as a verb. 
 807. If he would know more, you (spy that you are) can tell him. 
 809. *' This officer is a sort of secretary, and is to be ready, upon all 
 
 occasions, to venture his life in defence of his master." — Scott. 
 
 812. Hold. See i. 574. 
 
 824. But = that not. 
 
 826. Said = finished speaking. 
 
 831. Fiery cross. " When a chieftain designed to summon his 
 clan upon any sudden or important emergency, he slew a goat, and 
 making a cross of any light wood, seared its extremities in the fire, 
 and extinguished them in the blood of the animal. This was called 
 the Fiery Cross, also Crean Tarigh, or the Cross of Shame, because 
 disobedience to what the symbol implied inferred infamy. It was 
 delivered to a swift and trusty messenger, who ran full speed with it 
 to the next hamlet, where he presented it to the principal person, with 
 a single word, implying the place of rendezvous. He who received 
 the symbol was bound to send it forward, with equal despatch, to the 
 next village ; and thus it passed with incredible celerity through all 
 the district which owed allegiance to the chief, and also among his 
 allies and neighbors, if the danger was common to them. At sight 
 of the Fiery Cross every man, from sixteen years old to sixty, capable 
 of bearing arms, was obliged instantly to repair, in his best arms and 
 accoutrements, to the place of rendezvous. He who failed to appear 
 suffered the extremities of fire and sword, which were emblematically 
 denounced to the disobedient by the bloody and burnt marks upon 
 this warlike signal." — Scott. 
 
 835. It would be safest to land far up the lake. 
 
 836. Himself = he himself ; i.e., Allan. 
 839. Roll'd goes with plaid, next line. 
 843. Abrupt. Adjective for adverb. 
 
 846. Point = point out. 
 
 847. Ward. See 577. 
 
 855. Observe the sudden break in the sentence. 
 
NOTES OJSr THE LABT OF THE LAKE. 231 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 The Gathering. 
 
 1. Yore = of years; of old. 
 
 3. Legends store. See i. 548. j 
 
 4. Ventures = adventures. 
 
 7. Wait = await. 
 
 8. Tide is the object of wait. 
 10. For omission see ii. 692. 
 
 15. See ii. 307 ; and also i. 319, 500. 
 
 16. Kindred banner = banner of their kindred, or clan. 
 
 17. Gathcjring sound = sound, or signal, for gathering. 
 
 18. Fiery Cross. See ii. 831. 
 
 19. See Ruskin's '' Modern Painters," vol. iii. 278. 
 39. Cushat dove. Ring dove. 
 
 46. Impatient blade. See i. 122. 
 
 50. For antiquity (men of old) had taught that such ritual was a 
 fitting preface. 
 
 62. Rowan. The mountain ash. 
 
 63. Shivers. Of. v. 569. 
 
 67. Grizzled. Sometimes spelt grisled. Slightly gray. 
 
 71. Monlt is the object of had drawn. 
 
 * ^ The state of religion in the Middle Ages afforded considerable 
 facilities for those whose mode of life excluded them from regular 
 worship, to secure, nevertheless, the ghostly assistance of confessors, 
 perfectly willing to adapt the nature of their doctrine to the necessi- 
 ties and peculiar circumstances of their flock." — Scott. 
 
 74. Benharrow. A mountain near Loch Lomond. 
 
 76. Druid's. The Druids were priests in Britain. 
 
 80. Mix'd == was mixed. 
 
 81. Hallovi^'d creed. Christianity as contrasted with heathen 
 lore. 
 
 85. Bound = boundary. 
 
 87. Strath. Broader valley than glen. 
 
 88. Desert-dv\^eller. Same as Hermit. His. The hunts- 
 man's. 
 
 89. He. The huntsman. Between; i.e., between his prayers. 
 91. Brian's birth. This story is based on a local legend. 
 
232 SIB WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 102. That served as buckler to a heart unknown to fear, or to 
 which fear was unknown. 
 
 104. Fieldfare. A kind of thrush. 
 
 108. Full = fun blown. 
 
 114,116. Snood. "The snood^ or riband with which a Scottish 
 lass braided her hair, had an emblematical signification, and applied 
 to her maiden character. It was exchanged for the curch, toy, or 
 coify when she passed, by marriage, into the matron state. But if the 
 damsel was so unfortunate as to lose pretensions to the name of 
 maiden, without gaining a right to that of matron, she was neither 
 permitted to use the snood, nor advanced to the graver dignity of the 
 curch." ~^co^^. See i. 363. 
 
 120. In prose we should have either . . . or. 
 
 130. Hap. Lot, fate. Cf. happen, haply, perhaps. To "wail = 
 in wailing. 
 
 136. Cloister. Literally an enclosed place; hence, monastery. 
 Personification. Pitying gate. See 46, and i. 122. 
 
 138. Sable - letter'd. Old English type is sometimes called 
 '' black letter." 
 
 142. Cabala. Mysteries. 
 
 149. ** In adopting the legend concerning the birth of the founder 
 of the church of Kilmalie, the author has endea".^ored to trace the 
 effects which such a belief was likely to produce, in a barbarous age, 
 on the person to whom it related." — Scott. 
 
 154. River Demon. *' The River Demon, or River-horse, for it 
 is that form which he commonly assumes, is the Kelpy of the Low- 
 lands, an evil and malicious spirit, delighting to forebode and to 
 witness calamity. He frequents most Highland lakes and rivers; 
 and one of his most memorable exploits was performed upon the 
 banks of Loch Yennachar, in the very district which forms the scene 
 of our action. It consisted in the destruction of a funeral procession 
 with all its attendants." — Scott. 
 
 156. Noontide hag or goblin grim. *'The 'noontide hag,' 
 called in Gaelic Glas-lich, a tall, emaciated, gigantic female figure, is 
 supposed in particular to haunt the district of Knoidart. A goblin 
 dressed in antique armor, and having one hand covered wath blood, 
 called, from that circumstance, Lham-dearg, or Red-hand, is a tenant 
 of the forests of Glennore and Rothiemurcus." — Scott. 
 
 161. Mankind. Notice the unusual accent. 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 233 
 
 168. Ben-Shie. '* Woman of the fairies.'* 
 
 ''Most great families in the Highlands were supposed to have a 
 tutelar, or rather a domestic, spii'it, attached to them, who took an 
 interest in their prosperity, and intimated, hy its wailings, any ap- 
 proaching disaster. . . . The Ben-Shie implies the female fairy 
 whose lamentations were often supposed to precede the death of a 
 chieftain of particular families. When she is visihle, it is in the form 
 of an old woman, with a blue mantle and streaming hair." — Scott. 
 
 171. Shingly. Gravelly. 
 
 177. Ban. Curse. 
 
 189. A cubit's length = 18 inches. 
 
 191. Inch-Cailliach. ''Isle of Nuns," or of "Old Women," at 
 the lower extremity of Loch Lomond. 
 
 194. " The burial-ground continues to be used, and contains the 
 family places of sepulture of several neighboring clans." — Scott. 
 
 198. Anathema. Curse. 
 
 203. Dwelling low* Grave. 
 
 208. Him is the indirect object. " Shall doom him to wrath and 
 woe," would be the common construction. 
 
 212. Strook = struck ; used for the rhyme. 
 
 214-217. Notice the repetition of rhyme. 
 
 237. Volumed = voluminous. 
 
 243. Goshawk = goose-hawk'. 
 
 247. Answering goes with cry, 242. 
 
 253. Coir-Uriskin. " This is a very steep and most romantic 
 hollow in the mountain of Ben venue, overhanging the southeastern 
 extremity of Loch Katrine. ... A dale in so wild a situation, and 
 ainid a people whose genius bordered on the romantic, did not remain 
 without appropriate deities. The name literally implies the Corri, or 
 Den, of the Wild or Shaggy Men. . . . Tradition has ascribed to 
 the UrisJc, who gives name to the cavern, a figure between a goat and 
 a man ; in short, however much the classical reader may be startled, 
 precisely that of the Grecian satyr. ... It must be owned that the 
 (7o^^, or Den, does not, in its present state, meet our ideas of a sub- 
 terraneous grotto or cave, being only a small and narrow cavity 
 among huge fragments of rocks rudely piled together. But such a 
 scene is liable to convulsions of nature which a Lowlander cannot 
 estimate, and which may have choked up what was originally a cav- 
 ern. At least the name and tradition warrant the author of a ficti- 
 
234 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 tious tale to assert its having been such at the remote period in 
 which this scene is laid." — Scott. 
 
 255. Beala-nam-bo. " The pass of the cattle." 
 
 261. The = that. 
 
 263. Saw and disobey'd = should see and disobey. 
 
 265. Among. Misused for in. 
 
 275. Observe the pronunciation of hearth for the rhj^me. 
 
 278, 279. May the blessing (pardon, or salvation) that is bought for 
 all others by this sign be denied to him. 
 
 285. Henchman. See ii. 809. 
 
 286. Lanrick mead. A meadow near Loch Yennachar. 
 297. Wide = distant. 
 
 299. Blood and brand. Cf. the more common j^re and sicord. 
 
 300. Deer's hide. The Highlanders wore brogues, or brogans, 
 made of half-dried leather. Dun = dark brown. 
 
 309. Questing. Seeking, hunting. 
 
 310. Scaur. A steep cliff. 
 
 320. Warrior. Here an adjective. 
 
 327. Place. See 286. 
 
 332. Cheer. Face, look, countenance. 
 
 337. At bay. See i. 133. 
 
 344. Bosky. Woody, bushy. 
 
 346. Supply that at the beginning of the line. 
 
 349. Duncraggan. Between Loch Achray and Loch Vennachar, 
 near the Brigg of Turk. 
 
 352. Thou. Malise. The lord of Duncraggan's huts now takes 
 the Fiery Cross. 
 
 355. Him = himself, as frequently before. 
 
 369. Coronach. '' A wild expression of lamentation poured forth 
 by the mourners over the body of a departed friend ; " a funeral song. 
 
 370. The metre is irregular ; the prevailing foot seems to be the 
 amphibrach, three syllables, the second being accented. Some of 
 the lines have an unnecessary foot at the beginning. 
 
 384. Flushing = full bloom. 
 
 386. Correi. "The hollow side of a hill, where game usually 
 lies; " hence, " fleet in pursuit of game." 
 
 387. Cumber. Vexation, embarrassment, perplexity. 
 
 388. Red ; i.e., with blood ; hence, bold, daring. 
 394. Stumah. A dog ; "Faithful.'^ 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 235 
 
 403. Urge. We should expect urges in prose. Urge is ungram- 
 matical. 
 
 433. That has for its antecedent his^ in the preceding line. 
 
 434. The oak, Duncan. The sapling bough. Angus. 
 
 436. His duty done. The absolute construction here has the 
 force of a condition. 
 
 439. Hest = behest. Cf . wildered, deiving, etc. 
 
 440. To arms. Notice the omission of the verb from this impera- 
 tive exclamation. 
 
 445. Targe. See i. 546, and v. 380. 
 447. Mourner's. The widow's. 
 
 450. Borro^w'd force. The energy borrowed from, or caused by, 
 the " weapon-clang and martial call." 
 
 452. Trace on the map the progress of the signal through the 
 small district of lakes and mountains: first to Duncraggan, thence 
 towards Callander, up the pass of Leny, to the Chapel of Saint Bride, 
 at Strath-Ire, along Loch Lubnaig, through the districts of Balquid- 
 der, Glenfinlas, and Strath-Gartney. 
 
 453. Strath-Ire, The valley between Loch Voil and Loch Lub- 
 naig. 
 
 458. Teith's young waters. The branches of the Teith, espe- 
 cially the Leny, on the bank of which stood the Chapel of Saint 
 Bride. 
 
 461. See 458. Saint Bride, or Saint Bridget, was an Irish nun of 
 the fifth century. 
 
 465. Sympathetic; i.e., in sympathy with the dancing waves, 
 dizzy. 
 
 472, 473. Instead of the fully expressed conclusion, we have the 
 exclamation. If he had fallen there, we should have had to say fare- 
 well forever to Duncraggan's orphan heir. 
 
 475. Firmer. Should be more firmly in prose. 
 
 478. Rout. See i. 67. 
 
 480,481. Tombea, Armandave. Places in the neighborhood of 
 Strath-Ire. 
 
 483. Bridal, here a noun, = wedding-party. 
 
 485. Coif-clad. See 114. 
 
 487. Snooded. See 114. 
 
 488. Unwitting. See i. 596. 
 
 489. Shrilly. Cf. steepy, 304. 
 
236 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 495. Kerchiefs. Cf. curch, 114. 
 
 517. O fatal doom ! See 268-279. 
 
 526. Sped him* Speed is usually intransitive; but see 409, 509. 
 For him see 355, and elsewhere. 
 
 528. The River Leny runs from Loch Lubnaig into the Teith. 
 
 529. Racer's. Norman's. 
 
 530. " Hope deferred maketh the heart sick." — Prov. xiii. 12. 
 537, 538. For the kind of rhyme, see ii. 465, 466. 
 
 541. Brae. Hillside, slope, brow. 
 
 546. Bracken. Fern. 
 
 549. Stillj^. See 346. Laid has no noun to limit, but belongs to 
 the noun represented by my in the next line. See 433. 
 
 561. A time will come when I can allow my heart to be filled with 
 those feelings which now I must suppress. 
 
 565. If I shall have returned. 
 
 570. Balquidder. Near the east end of Loch Voil, and famous 
 as Rob Roy's burial-place. Blaze of the heath on the moorlands. 
 
 575. Nor faster than. Nor so far as. 
 
 576. Voice of Avar. Fiery Cross, the signal for war. 
 
 577. Coil. Confusion, tumult. 
 
 583. Each man that could claim. Cf. i. 528. 
 
 604. Men teith. See i. 89. 
 
 607, 608, 609. Rednock, Cardross, and Duchray were castles in 
 the valley of the Forth. 
 
 611. Wot. See i. 596. 
 
 613, 614. The tenses do not correspond. The metre requires repair 
 instead of repaired. 
 
 617, 618. See ii. 649-664. 
 
 622. Coir-nan-Uriskin. See 253. 
 
 625. A retreat as wild and strange. See i. 202. 
 
 641. Still = stillness. 
 
 656. Satyrs. See 253. 
 
 664. Beal-nam-bo. See 255. 
 
 671. It was an unusual sight to see the chief behind his men. 
 
 697. Prove. Experience, try. 
 
 705. Inly. We should expect inwardly in prose. 
 
 713. Notice the peculiar rhyme of this hymn. 
 
 729. Stainless styled = called pure. 
 
 748. Hastier. Cf. firmer, 475. 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 237 
 
 CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 The Prophecy, 
 
 9. What timei See ii. 307. 
 
 10. Fond conceit* Idle or foolish conception. 
 
 19. Braes of Doune. The hills near Doune, a town on the 
 Teith. 
 
 23. Scout = scouting expedition. 
 
 36. Boune* Ready, prepared. 
 
 42. Bide* Endure. Bout* Turn. 
 
 54. Dear pledge. See 48 and 49. 
 
 55. Advised* Planned, considered. 
 
 63. The Taghairnii " The Highlanders, like all rude people, 
 had various superstitious modes of inquiring into futurity. One of 
 the most noted was the Tnghairm, mentioned in the text. A person 
 was wrapped up in the skin of a newly-slain hullock, and deposited 
 heside a waterfall, or at the bottom of a precipice, or in some other 
 strange, wild, and unusual situation, where the scenery around him 
 suggested nothing but objects of horror. In this situation, he revolved 
 in his mind the question proposed ; and whatever was impressed upon 
 him by his exalted imagination, passed for the inspiration of the dis- 
 embodied spirits, who haunt these desolate recesses." — Scott. 
 
 68. Gallangad. In the Loch Lomond district. 
 
 73. Kernes. Light-armed soldiers. 
 
 74. Bealniaha. " The pass of the plain," east of Loch Lomond. 
 
 77. Dennan's Row* At the foot of Ben Lomond. 
 
 78. Scatheless. Harmless. 
 
 82. Bossi Knob. 
 
 83. Verge. Pronounced so as to rhyme with Targe. 
 
 84. Hero's Targe. A rock in the forest of Glenfinlas. 
 
 98. Broke* Quartered. 
 
 99. Morsel. *' There is a little gristle upon the spoone of the 
 brisket, which we call the raven's bone." 
 
 115. Rouse = rise. 
 
 124. Save he would be except him in prose. 
 130. Blazed = emblazoned. 
 
 132, 133. ** Though this be in the text described as a response of 
 the Taghairm, or Oracle of the Hide, it was of itself an augury fre- 
 
238 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 quently attended to. The fate of the battle was often anticipated, in 
 the imagination of the combatants, by observing which party first 
 shed blood." — >Sco^^. 
 
 Notice how this prophecy is quoted in v. 331, 332. 
 
 150. Glaive. Sword. 
 
 174. Stance. Station. 
 
 182. I* Scott. 
 
 199. They. The boats, 195. 
 
 223. Trow'd. Thought, believed. 
 
 227. Both Malcolm and Roderick are in danger on our account. 
 
 230. See ii. 823, 824. 
 
 231. Cambus-Kennetli's fane* An abbey on the Forth, near 
 Stirling. 
 
 236. Had = would have. 
 
 237. If I had been his son instead of his daughter. 
 
 244. See 220. 
 
 245. Bode. Foretell. 
 
 250, 251. My prophecy of fear was true, therefore believe my 
 prophecy of cheer. 
 253. Still = always. 
 
 261. " This little fairy tale is founded upon a very curious Danish 
 ballad which occurs in a collection of heroic songs first published in 
 1591.'' — Scott. 
 
 Observe peculiarities in the metre and the rhyme. 
 
 262. Mavis. Thrush. Merle. Blackbird. 
 
 267. Wold. Open country. 
 
 268. Wont; See i. 408. 
 
 277. PalL Purple cloth used for making palls, or mantles. 
 283. Darkling = in the dark. 
 285. Vair. Fur. 
 
 291. Richard. Notice the peculiar accent. 
 298. Won'd. Dwelt. 
 
 302. Screen is in apposition to beech and oak, 
 330. Kindly blood = blood of kinsman. 
 340. The " demon elf " speaks now. 
 357. Wist I = if I knew. 
 363, 364. The. See ii. 412. 
 
 371. Dunfermline gray.' The old abbey in Dunfermline, near 
 Edinburgh. 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 239 i 
 
 377. Claims. The rhyme requires the singular form ; perhaps the , 
 
 subjects are taken singly. ^ 
 
 387. Bourne. Limit, boundary. ' 
 
 392. Observe the omission. Scathe. Harm. See 78 .^ 
 
 402. Worthy is followed by of in prose. '[ 
 
 411. Bochastle. For different accent see i. 106. ' ; 
 
 413. Bower. Dwelling. See i. 217. | 
 
 417. Before; i.e., when he visited the Island. \ 
 
 419. That fatal bait. The knowledge that my selfish ear was ; 
 
 soothed to hear my praise. ^ 
 
 421. Atone is here a transitive verb ^ atone for. 1 
 
 425. Thou means herself. 1 
 
 437. Train. Device, snare. i 
 
 446. Notice the ellipsis. ; 
 
 455. If = whether. \ 
 
 459. Cf. 446. I 
 
 471. Lordship. Land held by a lord. ' 
 473. I who reck of (care for) neither state nor land. 
 
 484. Wending. Going. j 
 
 495. See i. 155-167. ] 
 
 500. Faredi Went. Cf. Farewell, wayfarer, thoroughfare. \ 
 
 506. Weeds. Garments. j 
 
 531, 532. These two streams join the Forth near Stirling. \ 
 
 552. Bridegroom. Notice the unusual accent. j 
 
 555. Maudlin. A corruption of Magdalene. S 
 
 565. To break his fall. When he is pitched from the cliff, 
 
 1. 558. ■ ^ 
 
 567. Batten. Fatten. : 
 
 590-605. Blanche warns Fitz-James of the ambush that was set . ; 
 
 for him. 
 
 590. Toils. Nets. 1 
 
 594. Fitz-Jamesis the ** stag." Ten. Ten branches on his antlers. j 
 
 598. Wounded doe; i.e., Blanche. '■, 
 
 617. ThrilPd. Quivered. ] 
 
 635. Slower. See iii. 475, 748. j 
 
 642. Daggled. Moistened, wet. j 
 
 672. Wreak* Avenge. i 
 
 734, 735. Notice the omissions of verbs. There is no time for 
 
 words that may be easily supplied. 
 
240 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 744. The privilege of chase is mentioned in the next two lines. • 
 
 746. Slip. Set loose. \ 
 
 749. Notice the abrupt break in the sentence. j 
 
 754. I write = and I will write. I 
 
 761. Cheer. Fare, entertainment. Cf. i. 442, and iii. 332. ! 
 
 772. A mighty augury. The Taghairm. See 63. ' 
 
 788. Warrant. Security. ' 
 
 794. Wreath; i.e., the *' gathered heath." . 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 The Combat. 
 
 17. Their soldier meal was as short and rude as their matins. 
 
 18. "The Scottish Highlander calls himself Gael, or Gaul, and 
 terms the Lowlanders, Sassenach, or Saxons." — Scott. 
 
 22. Winded. See i. 319. 
 
 46. Shingles. Gravel. Cf. Shingly, iii. 171. 
 51. Dank. Moist, damp. 
 60. Traversed. Notice the unusual accent. 
 64. Sooth to tell = to tell the truth. Cf . i. 476 ; iv. 250. 
 78. It is enough to say that I sought, etc. 
 92. But = that. 
 102. Show yourself to be. 
 108. See 124. 
 
 124. The Duke of Albany, son of a younger brother of James III., 
 was regent of Scotland after the death of James IV. 
 
 '* There is scarcely a more disorderly period of Scottish history 
 than that which succeeded the battle of Flodden, and occupied the 
 minority of James V. Feuds of ancient standing broke out like old 
 wounds; and every quarrel among the independent nobility, which 
 occurred daily, and almost hourly, gave rise to fresh bloodshed." — 
 Scott. 
 126. Mew'd* Shut up. 
 132. Methinks = it seems to me. 
 145. Reft. Kobbed. 
 148. Ask we; i.e., if we ask. 
 161. Rears = raises. Shock = sheaf . 
 186. For ellipsis, see 78. Promise. See iv. 685-688. 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 241 
 
 196-227. This incident is founded on fact. The most dramatic 
 situation in the poem. 
 
 252. Glinted. Flashed. 
 
 268. Though every valley, etc., depended on our strife. 
 
 298. Katrine, Achray, and Yennachar. 
 
 309. This murderous chief, as you call me. See 105, 106. 
 
 326. Means. '''Means,' in the sense of instrument — e.g., 'a 
 means to an end,' * this was the sole means within reach' — is usu- 
 ally, though perhaps not always, treated as singular; but in the sense 
 of income, — e.g., 'his means are ample' — it is plural." — ^^ HiWs 
 Foundations of Rhetoric,'' p. 45. 
 
 331,332. Cf. iv. 132, 133. 
 
 336. See iv. 618-632. 
 
 344. Strengths = strongholds. 
 
 350. As to name homage. 
 
 362. See iv. 679, 680. 
 
 364. Ruth. Pity. 
 
 371. See 262, 263. 
 
 380. Targe. '* A round target of light wood, covered with strong 
 leather and studded with brass or iron, was a necessary part of a 
 Highlander's equipment. ... A person thus armed had a consider- 
 able advantage in private fray." — Scott. 
 
 See i. 546; iii. 445. 
 
 383. Train'd abroad. See i. 163. 
 
 401. Borne belongs to Chieftain in the next line. 
 
 442. See iv. 548-674. 
 
 465. Weed. See iv. 506. 
 
 496. Glance and disappear are infinitives. 
 
 550. James II. stabbed William, eighth Earl of Douglas, at Stir- 
 ling Castle. 
 
 551. O sad and fatal mound! State criminals were executed 
 on an eminence at the northeast of the Castle. 
 
 562. Morrice-dancers. For a description of the game, etc., see 
 Scott's " Abbot," ch. xiv., and "The Fair Maid of Perth," ch. xvi. 
 and note on ch. xx. 
 
 569. Shivers. See iii. 63. 
 
 584. Jennet* A small Spanish horse. 
 
 586. Who smiled for pride, and blushed for shame (bashfulness), 
 at being noticed by the king. 
 
242 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 614. Robin Hood: ^' The exhibition of this renowned outlaw and 
 his band was a favorite frolic at such festivals." — Scott. 
 
 See Scott's '' Abbot," note G to ch. xiv. 
 
 626. Stake. Prize. 
 
 630. Wight. Valiant. Sometimes a noun meaning perso/i. 
 
 638. Fare. Fate. 
 
 641. " The usual prize of a wrestling was a ram and a ring, but the 
 animal would have embarrassed my story." — Scott. 
 
 653. Rood = rod. 
 
 660. Ladies' Rock. '' A small rocky mount, in the valley, on the 
 Castle-hill, where the fair ones of the court took their station to 
 behold these feats." 
 
 666. And (with) sharper glance. 
 
 697. Archery = archers. 
 
 724. Needs = it needs ; only a blow is needed. 
 
 728. In the first edition this line reads, " Clamoured his comrades 
 of the train.'* 
 
 740. Misproud = wrongfully proud. 
 
 752. Misarray = disorder. 
 
 768. Hyndford* On the Clyde. 
 
 790. Notice the anticipation, "prolepsis." 
 
 796. Amain. The first edition has again. 
 
 809. Some bier (of a) beloved (friend). 
 
 819. Changeling = changeful. 
 
 829. All these adjectives belong to herd, in the preceding line. 
 
 838. Cognizance. Badge. 
 
 856. Lost (sight of) it. Forgot it. 
 
 866. Leaders lost = loss of their leaders. Cf . i. 388 and ii. 776. 
 
 868, 869. I do not wish to have the common i)eople feel avenging 
 steel on account of their Chief's crimes. 
 
 887. See 550. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 The Guard-Room. 
 
 3. Caitiff. Strictly a captive ; hence a wretched man. 
 
 15. Gyve. Fetter. Commonly used in the plural, gyves. 
 
 63. Holytide = holy time, holiday. 
 
 87. Catch; Song; usually a part-song. 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 243 
 
 88. Buxom. Literally bow-some ; i.e. bending ; hence yielding, 
 obedient ; tl\en lively. 
 
 90. Poule = Paul. The prevailing foot of the song is the ana- 
 pest, — two nnaccented, followed by an accented, syllable. 
 
 92. Black-jack. A leather pitcher. 
 
 93. Seven deadly sins. Pride, idleness, gluttony, lust, avarice, 
 envy, wrath. 
 
 95. Upsees. '' Bacchanalian interjection borrowed from the 
 Dutch." — Scott. 
 
 100. Gillian.' A corruption of Juliana. The shorter form is 
 Gill, or Jill. 
 
 103. Cure* Office of Parish priest. Placket and pot* Women 
 and wine. 
 
 104. Ijurch. Swindle, cheat. 
 124. Store. See 1. 548; iii. 3. 
 
 136. Mar bade that I should provide steed for them. 
 
 144. Fee. A kiss. 
 
 167. I shame me = I am ashamed. 
 
 170. Needwood* A forest in Staffordshire. 
 
 183. Tullibardine. In Perthshire, where the Murrays lived. 
 
 208. The King's pledge of claims on his gratitude. 
 
 221. Hest = behest, command. 
 
 222. Permit that I marshal you; more commonly, permit me 
 to, etc. 
 
 234. Barret-cap* Flat cap. 
 
 265. But. If not. 
 
 292, 293. 295-299. These lines are not in the first edition. 
 
 295. Leech. Physician. 
 
 305. They deemed that he sought the chief, Roderick. See 242 
 and 269. 
 
 306. Prore = prow. 
 
 347. Dermid's race* The Campbells. 
 
 369. Beal' an Duine* " The pass of the man." 
 
 "A skirmish actually took place at a pass thus called in the 
 Trosachs, and closed with the remarkable incident mentioned in the 
 text. It was greatly posterior in date to the reign of James V." — 
 Scott. 
 
 377. Eyrie* Nest of a bird of prey. Other spellings are eyry 
 aery, aerie. Erne. Eagle. 
 
244 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 405. Battalia = battalion. 
 
 414. Va\^^ar(i == vanguard. 
 
 452. Tinchel. " A circle of sportsmen, who, by surrounding a 
 great space, and gradually narrowing, brought immense quantities of 
 deer together, which usually made desperate efforts to break through 
 the Tinchel." — Scott. 
 
 487. Bracklinii. '' This is a beautiful cascade made by a moun- 
 tain stream calle'd the Keltic, at a place called the Bridge of Brack- 
 linn, about a mile from the village of Callander, in Menteith." — 
 Scott. 
 
 488. Linn. See preceding line; also i. 71, and ii. 270. 
 
 539. Bonnet-pieces. Gold coins stamped with the king's head, 
 with a bonnet on it. Store. See 124. ** I will give my purse to him 
 who will swim," etc. 
 
 545. Casque. Helmet. Corselet. Armor to protect the front 
 of the body. 
 
 610. Breadalbane. See ii. 416. 
 
 638. Storied. Cf. Gray's *' Elegy," Stoned urn, and Milton's *' II 
 Penseroso," Storied windows. 
 
 668. Thrall = thraldom. 
 
 707. Primei First, first part of, early. 
 
 712. Stayed. Steadied, supported. 
 
 720. Even = evening. 
 
 726. Presence = presence-chamber, room of state. 
 
 737. Sheen. See i. 208. 
 
 740. " This discovery will probably remind the reader of the beau- 
 tiful Arabian tale of *I1 Bondocani.' Yet the incident is not bor- 
 rowed from that elegant story, but from Scottish tradition." — Scott. 
 
 741-744. " When used for the former purpose [to impress a thought] 
 exclusively, the illustration should as a rule come first, that it may, 
 by calling up appropriate Ideas, prepare the mind for what is to fol- 
 low. If, in such a case, it came second, it would serve no purpose 
 but that of ornament, and it might seriously interrupt the flow of 
 thought. Hence the propriety of the order adopted in the following 
 lines : — 
 
 ' 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.' 
 
NOTES ON THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 245 
 
 ** Evidently the first two lines are not needed to render the third 
 line intelligible. As they stand, they create sympathy with Ellen ; if 
 placed after the third line, they would obstruct the narrative ; for, the 
 moment the reader knows that Ellen is at the King's feet, his interest 
 in the manner of her getting there is lost in his desire to know what 
 happened next." —A. S. HilVs " Principles of Rhetoric,'' pp. 148, 149. 
 
 779, 780. Yet James did not wish that the crowd should long 
 look curiously on the natural raptures [felt by a daughter at her 
 father's safety]. 
 
 782. Proselyte is in keeping with infidel and misbeliever (implied 
 in mishelieving and doubting) in the preceding stanza. 
 
 784. Speed. Success. 
 
 802. Talisman. Spell, or magic charm. See iv. 464. 
 
 813. Grace: Pardon. 
 
 842. See beginning of poem. 
 
 846. Lending to the fountain and the wild breeze thy wilder 
 minstrelsy. 
 
 849. Fold and lea. Sheep fold and meadow. 
 
 850. Housing. Returning to the house, or hive. 
 
LIT ERA TURE. 
 
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 The Students' Series of English Classics. 
 
 PRICES REDUCED. To furnish the educational public with 
 well-edited editions of those authors used in, or required for admission 
 to, many of the colleges, the Publishers announce this new series. 
 
 The following books are now ready ^ and others are in preparation. 
 
 They are uniformly bound in cloth, furnished at a comparatively low 
 price, and Students of Literature should buy such texts that after use 
 in the class room will be found valuable for the library. 
 
LITER A TURE, 
 
 Coleridge's Ancient Mariner 25 cents. 
 
 A Ballad Book 50 „ 
 
 The Merchant of Venice 35 „ 
 
 Edited by Katharine Lee Bates, Wellesley College. 
 
 Matthezv Arnold'' s Sohrab and Rustum .25 „ 
 
 Webster'' s First Bunker Hill Oration 25 „ 
 
 Milton^ s L'' Allegro f II Tenser oso, Cofnus, and Lycidas . , . 25 „ 
 Edited by Louise Manning Hodgkins, formerly Professor 
 of English Literature, Wellesley College. 
 
 Introduction to the Writings of John Ruskin 50 „ 
 
 Macaulay s Essay on Lord Clive 35 „ 
 
 Edited by ViDA D. Scudder, Wellesley College. 
 
 George Eliofs Silas Marner 35 „ 
 
 Scotfs Mar7nion 35 „ 
 
 Edited by Mary Harriott Norris, Professor, New York. 
 Sir Roger de Cover ley Tapers from The Spectator .... 35 „ 
 
 Edited by A. S. Roe, Worcester, Mass. 
 Macaulay s Second Essay on the Earl of Chatha7n . . . o 35 „ 
 Edited by W. W. Curtis, High School, Pawtucket, R. I. 
 
 yohnson^s History of Rasselas 35 „ 
 
 Edited by Fred N. Scott, University of Michigan. 
 
 Macaulafs Essays on Milton aiid Addison 35 „ 
 
 Edited by James Chalmers, Professor of Literature. 
 
 CarlyWs Diamond Necklace 35 „ 
 
 Edited by W. A. MoziER, High School, Ottawa, 111. 
 
 yoan of Arc, and other selections from De Quincey . . . 35 „ 
 
 Edited by Henry H. Belfield, Chicago Manual Training School. 
 
 Selections from Washington Irving 50 „ 
 
 Edited by Isaac Thomas, High School, New Haven, Conn. 
 
 Goldsmith'' s Traveller and Deserted Village 25 „ 
 
 Edited by W. F. Gregory, High School, Hartford, Conn. 
 
 Burke'' s Speech on Conciliation with America 35 „ 
 
 Edited by L. DUPONT Syle. University of California. 
 
LITERA TURE. 
 
 Tennyson'' s Elaine 25 cents. 
 
 Edited by Fannie More McCauley, Instructor, Winchester 
 School, Baltimore. 
 
 Macaulay''s Life of Samuel Johnson 25 ,, 
 
 Edited by Gamaliel Bradford, Jr., Instructor in English 
 Literature, Wellesley and Boston. 
 
 Scotfs Lady of the Lake 35 ,, 
 
 Edited by James Arthur Tufts, Phillips Exeter Academy. 
 The following volumes are in preparation : 
 GOLDSMITH'S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. Edited by J. G. Riggs, 
 
 School Superintendent, Plattsburg, N. Y. 
 MILTON'S PARADISE LOST, BOOKS I AND II. Edited by Albert 
 
 S. Cook, Yale University. 
 DE QUINCEY'S THE FLIGHT OF A TARTAR TRIBE. Edited by 
 
 Frank T. Baker, Teachers' College, New York City. 
 CARLYLE'S ESSAY ON BURNS. Edited by William K. Wickes, 
 
 High School, Syracuse, New York. 
 TENNYSON'S THE PRINCESS. Edited by Henry W. Boynton, 
 
 Phillips Academy, Andover, Mass. 
 Lays of ancient ROME. Edited by D. D. Pratt, High School, 
 
 Portsmouth, Ohio. 
 WORDSWORTH'S WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE. Edited by Mary 
 Harriott Norris, Professor of Enghsh Literature. 
 We cannot speak too highly of the Students' Series of English 
 Classics. — The Christian Union. 
 
 Correspondence invited. 
 
 LEACH, SHEWELL, & SANBORN, 
 
 BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO- 
 
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