ClassTT? 5 %bh_ Rook \-f 196 THE LADY OF THE TAKE. THE LADY OF THE LAKE, AND VISION OP DON RODERICK. COMPLETE IN ONE YOLUME. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT gi 'gtin (Ebitioit. BOSTON: CROSBY AND AINSWORTH. 1865. • ^. a ^ %^' THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO FIRST THE CHASB. Harp of the North ! that mouldering long hast hung On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's sprinf And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, Till envious ivy did around thee cling, Muffling with \'erdant ringlet every string — Oh 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, Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, When lay of hopeless love, or glory won. Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud. At each according pause, was heard aloud TInne a-dent symphony sublime and high ! Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bowed ! For still the burthen of thy minstrelsy W aa Knighthood's dauntless deed, and Beauty's mau*% less eye. 97 314 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Oh wane once more ! how rude soe'er the hand Tl at ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray ; Oh wake once more ! though scarce my skill coiAmand Sone feeble echoing of thine earlier lay ; Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, Ana all unworthy of thy nobler strajai, Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, The wizard note has not been touched in vain, riie n silent be no more ! Enchantress, wake again. H The stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, And deep his midnight lair had made In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; But, when the sun his beacon red Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay Resounded up the rocky way, And faint, from farther distance borne. Were heard tlie clanging hoof and hom. As chief who hears his warder call " To arms ! the foemen storm the wall ! " The antlered monarch of the waste Sprang from his heathery couch in hasto. But, ere his fleet career he took. The dew-drops from his flanks he shook Like crssteii leader proud and high, Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky A momer gazed adown the dale, A moment snuffed the tainted gale, A moment listened to the cry. That thickened as the chase drew nigh THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 315 Then, as the headmost foes appeared, With one brave bound the copse he clcaredj And, stretching forward free and far, Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var Yelled on the view the opening pack — Rock, glen, and cavern paid them back; To many a mingled sound at once The awakened mountain gave response. An hundred dogs bayed deep and strong Clattered an hundred steeds along. Their peal the merry horns rang out. An hundred voices joined the shout Witn hark, and whoop, and wild halloo, No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. Far from the tumult fled the roe. Close in her covert cowered the doe, The falcon, from her cairn on 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 Returned from cavern, ; cliff, and linn, And silence settled, wide and still. On the lone wood and mighty hilL Less loud the sounds of sylvan waf Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var, And roused the cavern where 'tis told A giant made his den of old; For ere that steep ascent was won, High in the pathway hung the sun, And many a gallant, stayed perforce. Was fain to breathe his faltering horso 316 THE LADY OF THE LAKE And of the trackers of the deer Scarce half the lessening pack w{e Where that huge falchion hung on high. 336 THE J-Aur OF THE LAKE. And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throngs Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along, Until, the giddy whirl to cure, He rose, and sought the moonshine pure The wild rose, eglantine, and broom. Wafted around their rich perfume ; The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm, The aspens slept beneath the calm ; The silver light, with quivering glance, Played on the water's still expanse — Wild were the heart whose passion's sway Could rage beneath the sober ray ! He felt its calm, that warrior guest. While thus he communed with his breast i — "Why is it at each turn I trace Some memory of that exiled race ? Can I not mountain maiden spy. But she must bear the Douglas eye ? Can I not view a highland brand, But it nmst match the Douglas hand ? Can I not frame a fevered dream. But still the Douglas is the theme ? — I'll dream no more — by manly mind Not even in sleep is will resigned. My midnight orison said o'er, I'll turn to rest, and dream no more." His midnight orison lie told, A prayer with every bead of gold. Consigned to heaven his cares and woes, And sank in undisturbeo repose ; Until the heath-cock shrilly crew. And morning dawned on Ben-venue THE LADT OF THE LAKE. CANTO SECOND. THE ISLAND. 337 Ar iU}Ta the black-cock trims his jetty wing, Tis morning prompts the linnet's blithest la/ A.11 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, Mixed with the sounding harp, oh white-haired Allan bane ! SONG. '*Not faster yonder rowers' might Flings from their oars the spray; Not faster yonder rippling bright, That tracks the shallop's course in light, Melta in the lake away. Than men from memory erase The benefits of former days ; Then, Stranger, go! good spted the while. Nor think again of the lonely isle. *High place to thee in royal court, ■ High place in battled line. Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport, %Vhprc Beauty sees the brave resort, The honored meed be thine! 90 338 Tilt LADY Ot THE LAKE True be thy sword, thy frend sincere, Thy lady constant, kind, and dear, And lost in love's and friendship's soils. Be memory of the lonely isle. SONG — CONTINUED. ** But if beneath yon southern sky A plaided stranger roam, Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh. And sunken cheek and heavy eye, Pine for his highland home : Then, warrior, then be thine to show The care that soothes a wanderer's wo Remember then thy hap erewhile A stranger in the lonely isle. *' Or if on life's uncertain main Mishap shall mar thy sail ; If faithful, wise, and brave in vain, Wo, want, and exile thoii sustain Beneath the fickle gale ; Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, On thankless courts, or friends estranged, But come where kindred worth shall smilf To greet thee in the lonely isle." As died the sounds upon the tide. The shallop reached the main-land aide, And ere his onward way he took, The Stranger cast a lingering look Where easily his eye might reach The Harper on the islet beach THE LADY OF THE LuVKE 33$) Reclined against a blighted tieo. As wasted, gray, and worn as he. To minstrel meditation given. His reverend brow was raised to hcavezii As from the rising sun to claim A sparkle of inspiring fla.n • His hand, reclined upon the wire. Seemed watching the awakening fire; So still he sate, as those who wait Till judgment speak the doom of fate So still, as if no breeze might dare To lift one lock of hoary hair; So still as life itself were fled, In the last sound his harp had sped Upon a rock witli lichens wild, Beside him Ellen sate and smiled. Smiled she to see the stately drake Lead forth his fleet upon the lake, While her vexed spaniel, from the beach Bayed at the prize beyond his reach? Yet tell me tlien the maid who knows. Why deepened on her cheek the rose? Forgive, forgive. Fidelity I 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 wfAild scorn to spy, And prize such conquest of her eye While yet he loitered on the spot. It seemed as Ellen marked him n<# 340 THE LADY OF THIL LAKE. But when ho turned him to the glaoe, 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, As at that simple mute farewell. Now with a trusty mountain guide. And his dark stag-hounds by his side, He parts — the maid, unconscious still. Watched him wind slowly round the hill 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 Malcolm idly hung On the smooth phrase of southern tongue Not so had Malcolm strained 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 ruSLied, When deep the conscious maiden blushed. For of his clan, in hall and bower, Younc: Malcolm Grasme was held liie flower The Minstrel waked hs harp — three imea Arose tlie well-known martial chimes, THE LADF OF THE I.AKE U\ And ihrice their high heroic pride in melancholy murmurs died. "Vainly thou bidd'st, oh noble maid! ' Clasping his withered hands, he said, "Vainly thou bidd'st me wake the stiain, Thougn all unwont to bid in vain. Alas ! than mine a mightier hand Has tuned my harp, my strings has spanned j I touch the chords of joy, but low And mournful answer notes of wo; And the proud march which victors tread. Sinks in the wailing for the dead. Oh well for me, if mine alone That dirge's deep prophetic tone! If, as my tuneful fathers said, This harp, which erst Saint Modan swayed. Can thus its master's fate foretell. Then welcome be the minstrel's knell I " But ah ! dear lady, thus it sighed 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. Wailed oud through Bothwell's bannered ha'i. Ere Douglases to ruin driven. Were exiled from their native heaven. Oh ! if yet worse mishap and wo My master's house must undergo, Or aught but weal to Ellen fair. Brood in these accents of despair 29* *i43 THE LADl OF THE LAKE. No future bard, sad harp I shall fling Triumph or rapture from thy string; One short, one final strain shall flow, Fraught with unutterable wo, Then shivered shall thy fragments lie, Thy master cast him down and die." Soothing she answered him, " Assuage, Mine honored friend, the fears of age All melodies to thee are known. That harp has rung, or pipe has "blown In lowland vale or highland glen. From Tweed to Spey — what marvel, thou, At times, unbidden notes should rise. Confusedly bound in memory's ties. Entangling, as they rush along. The war-march with tlie funeral song? Small ground is now for boding fear; Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. My sire, in native virtue great. Resigning lordship, lands, and state. Not then to fortune more resigned. Than yonder oak might give the wind ; The graceful foliage storms may reave, The noble stem they cannot grieve. For me " — she stooped, and, looking round, Plucked a blue hare-bell from the ground. "For me, whose memory scarce conveys An image of more splendid days. This little flower, tliat loves the lea, May well my simple emblem be ; It drinks heaven's dew as blithe as ro^e That in the King's own garden growi THE LADf OF THE LAKR, 34S And when I place it in my hair Allan, a bard is bound to swear rie ne'er saw coronet so ftiir." Then playfully the chaplet wild Slhe wreathed in her dark locks, and smiled. 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 wo. He gazed, till fond regret and pride Thrilled to a tear, then thus replied : — " Loveliest and best ! thou little know'sl The rank, the honors thou hast lost! Oh might I live to see thee grace. In Scotland's court, thy birthright 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 Ladv of the Bleeding Heart!" ' Fair dreams art* Liese," the maiden cried, ^Light was her accent, yet she sighed,) " Yet is this mossy rock to me Worth splendid ctair and canopy ; Nor would my footstep spring more gay !n courtly dance than blithe strathspey Nor half so pleased mine ear incl'ine To royal minstrel's lay as thine : And then for suitors proud and high, ^fi bend before my conquering eye. 344 THE LADT OF THE LAKE 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 delai A Lennox foray — for a day." The ancient bard his glee repressed. "Ill hast thou chosen theme for jest! For who, through all this western wild, Named black Sir Roderick e'er, and smilefl ' In Holy-Rood a knight he slew ; I saw, when back the dirk he drew, Courtiers gave place before the stride Of the undaunted homicide ; And since, though outlawed, hath his hand Full sternly kept his mountain land. Who else dared give — ah ! wo the day, That I such hated truth should say — The Douglas, like a stricken deer. Disowned by every noble peer, Even the rude refuge we have here ? Alas, this wild marauding chief Alone might hazard oar relief. And now thy maiden charms expand. Looks for his guerdon in thy hand ; Full soon may dispensation sought, To back his suit, from Rome be brought Then, though an exile on the hill, Thy father, as the Douglas, still Be held in reverence and fear. But though to Roderick thou'rt so tJear, That tliou might'st guide with silken thread Slave of thy will, this chieftain dread ; THE LADY OP THE LAKE 3^.*^ Yet, oh loved maid, thy mirth refrain! Thy hand is on a lion's mane " " Minstrel," the maid replied, and hinfh Her father's soul glanced from her ey^ "My debts to Roderick's house 1 know All that a mother could bestow, To Lady Margaret's care I owe, Sincg 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 I Sir Roderick should command My blood, my life — ^but not my hand. Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell A votaress in Maronan's cell ; Rather through realms beyond the sea. Seeking the world's cold charity. Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word. And ne'er the name of Douglas heard. An outcast pilgrim will she rove, Than wed the man she cannot love. ** Thou shak'st, geod friend, thy tresses ^ay - That pleading look, what can it say But what I own? — I grant him brave, But wild as Blacklinn's thundering wave 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 • 346 THE LADY OF THE LARfc But oh ! that very blade of steel More mercy for a foe would feel: I grant him liberai, to fling Among his clan the wealth they bring, When back by lake and glen they wind, And in the Lowland leave behind. Where once some pleasant hamlet stood. A mass of ashes slaked with blood. 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. While yet a child — and children know, [nstinctive 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 Roderick's name, I thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er A Douglas knew the word, with fear. To change such odious theme were best What think'st thou of our stranger guest?* "What think I of him? — wo the while That brought such Avanderer to our isle Thy father's battle-brand, of yore For Tine-man forged by fairy lore THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 34* What time he leagued, no longer foes, His Border spear with Hotspur's bows, Did, self unscabbarded, foreshow The footstep of a secret foe. If courtly spy, and harbored here, What may we for the Douglas fear? What for this island, deemed of old Clan-Alpine's last and surest hold ? If neither spy nor foe, I pray What yet may jealous Roderick say ! — Nay, wave not thy disdainful head ! Bethink thee of the discord dread, That kindled when at Beltane game. Thou ledd'st the dance with Malcolm Grseme 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. No weeping birch, nor aspens wake, Nor 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.'* Far up the lengthened lake were spied Four darkening specks upon the tide, That, slow enlarging on the view. Four manned and masted barges grew, And bearing downwards from Glengyle, Steered full i pon the lonely isle; The point of Brianchoil they passed. And to the windward as they cast, 548 THE LADT OF THE LAKE. Against the sun they gave to shine The J)old Sir Roderick's bannered pine. 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 wav« • 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 From their loud chanters down, and swee^ The furrowed bosom of the deep, As, rushing through the lake amain, They plied the ancient Highland strain. Ever, as on they bore, more loud And louder rung the pibroch proud. At first the sounds, by distance tame, Mellowed along the waters came. And, lingering long by cape and bay, Wailed every harsher note away; Then, bursting bolder on the ear. The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear Those thrilling sounds, that call the might Of old Clan-Alpine to the fight Thick beat the rapid notes, as when The mustering hundreds shake the gleOL And, hurrying at the signal dread. The battered earth returns their tread Then prelude light, of livelier tone, Expressed their merry marching f»n. THE LADl OF THE LAKE. 34S« Ere peal of closing battle rose, WiLi mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows And mimic din of stroke and ward, As broadsword upon target jarred ; And groaning pause, ere yet again, Condensed, the battle yelled amain, The rapid charge, the rallying shout, Retreat borne headlong into rout. And bursts of triumph, to declare Clan- Alpine's conquest — all were there. Nor ended thus the strain ; but slow, Sunk in a moan prolonged and low. And changed the conquering clarion sweil For wild lament o'er those that fell. The war-pipes ceased ; but lake and hiU Were busy with their echoes still ; And, when they slept, a vocal strain Bade their hoarse chorus wake again. While loud an hundred clansmen raise Their voices in their chieftain's praise. Each boatman, bending to his oar. With measured sweep the burthen bore, In S!ich wild cadence, as the breeze Makes through December's leafless treoa The chorus first could Allan know, " Rode'-igh Vich Alpine, ho ! iro ! " And near, and nearer as they rowed, Difltinct the martial ditty flowed. 30 35C THE LADT OF THE LAKE. BOAT SONG. ilail to' the chief who in triumph advances! Honored and blest be the evergreen pine! Ijong may the Tree in his banner that gflaiiCee, 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, " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ' " Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the lountain, Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; When the wliirlwind has stripped every leaf on tlie mountain, The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade Moored in the rifled rock, Proof to the tempest's shock. Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; Men^^^eith and Breadalbane, then. Echo his praises agen, •* Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Fruin, And Banachar's groans to our slogan replied ; Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, Aid the best of Loch-Lomond lie dead on her side Widow and Saxon maid Long shall lament our raid, THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 35 1 Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and witL wo Lennox and Leven-glen Shake when they hear agen, •♦Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! iero©'" Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highland! Stretch to your oars, for the evergreen Pine! Oh! that the rose-bud that graces yon islands, Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine Oh that some seedling gem, Worthy such noble stem. Honored and blessed in their shadow might grow Loud should Clan-Alpine then Ring from her deepmost glen, ** Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe I " Witri all l\er joyful female band, Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. Loose on the breeze their tresses flew, And high their snowy arms they threw, As echoing back with shrill acclaim And chorus wild the chieftain's name ; While, prompt to please, with mother's art The darling passion of his heart. The Dame called Ellen to tlie strand, To greet her kinsman ere he land : " Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou. And shun to wreathe a victor's brow/*** Reluctantly and slow, the maid The unwelcome summoning obeyed. And, wnen a distant bugle rung, [n tlie mid-path aside she sprung: ** List, Allan-bane 1 from mainland cast I hear my father's signal blast 352 THE LADT OF THE LAE:E. Be ours," she cried, "the skiff to guide. And waft him from the mountain side.** Then, like a sunbeam swift and bright, She darted to her shallop light, And, eagerly, while Roderick scanned, For her dear form, his mother's band, The islet far behind her lay. And she had landed in the bay. 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 angel's clieek^ *Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head ! And as tlie Douglas to his breast His darling Ellen closely pressed, Such holy drops her tresses steeped. Though 'twas an hero's eye that weeped. Nor while on Ellen's faltering tongue Her filial welcomes crowded hung, Marked she, that fear (affection's prooi'V Still held a graceful youth aloof; No ! not till Douglas named his name, Although tlie youth was Malcolm Grajmc Allan, with wistful look the whiie, Marked Roderick landing on the isle; His master piteously he eyed, Then gazed apon the chieftain's pride, Then dashed, with hasty hand, away From his dimmed eye the gatherings spra« THE LADY OF HIE LAKE. 855l And Douglas, an his hand he laid On Malcolm's shoulder, kindly said, ** 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 tlie lay O'er the arched gate of Bothwell proud, While many a minstrel answered loud, When Percy's Norman pennon, won In bloody field, oefore me shone. And twice ten knights, tlie least a name As mighty as yon chief may claim, Gracing my pomp, behind me came. Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud Was I of all that marshalled crowd. Though the waned crescent owned my might. And in my train trooped lord and knight, Though Blantyre hymned her holiest lays. And Bothwell's bards flung back my praise As when this old man's silent tear. And this poor maid's affection dear, A welcome give more kind and truo Than aught my better fortunes knew. Forgive, my friend, a father's boast; Oh ' it outbeggars all I lost ! " Delightful praise ! — like summer rose, That brighter in the dew-drop glows, The bashful maiden's cheek appeared — For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard The flush of shame-faced joy to hide. The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide The loved caresses of the maid The dogs with crouch and whimper paid 30* fr 354 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. And, at her whistle, on her hand The falcon took his favorite stand, Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye. Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly. And trust, while in such guise she stood* Like fabled Goddess of the Wood, That if a father's partial thought O'erweighed her worth and beauty augfat, Well might the lover's judgment faiJ, To balance with a juster scale ; For with each secret glance he stole. The fond enthusiast sent his soul Of stature fair, and slender frame. But firmly knit, was Malcolm Grseme The belted plaid and tartan hose Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose His flaxen hair, of sunny hue, Curled closely round his bonnet blue ; Trained to the chase, his eagle eye The ptarmigan in snow could spy ; 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 winged with fear Outstripped in speed the mountaineer; Right up Ben-Lomond could he press, And not a sob his toil confess. His form accorded with a mind Lively and ardent, frank and kind; A blither heart, till Ellen came. Did never love nor sorrow tame; THE LADT OF THE LAKE. 35d Ft danced as lightsome m his breast, As played the feather on his crest. Yet friends, who nearest knew the youtiii His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth, And bards, who saw his features bold, When kindled by the tales of old, Said, were that youth to manhood grown, Not long should Roderick Dhu's renown Be foremost voiced by mountain fame, But quail to that of Malcolm Grajme. Now back they wend their watery way, And, " Oh my sire ! " did Ellen say, " 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 ftir, *Tis mimicry of noble war; And with that gallant pastime reft. Were all of Douglas I have left. I met young Malcolm as I strayed Far eastward, in Glenfinlas' shade, Nor strayed I safe; for, all around. Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground This youth, though still a royal ward, Risked life and land to be my guard, And through the passes of the wood Guided my steps not unpursued ; And Roderick shall his welcome make. Despite old spleen, for Douglas' sake. Then must he seek Strath-Endrick g\e^ Nor peril aught for me agen." Sir Roderick, who to meet them came, Reddened at sight of Malcolm Grseme 356 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Vet^ not in actl'^n, word, or eye, Failed aught in hospitality. In talk and sport they whiled away The morning of that summer day, But at high noon a courier light Held secret parley with the knight, Whose moody aspect soon declared, That evil were the news he heard. Deep thought seemed toiling in his head; Yet was the evening banquet made, Ere he assembled round the flame, His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, And Ellen too; then cast around His eyes, then fixed them on the ground, As studying phrase that might avail Best to convey unpleasant tale. Long with his dagger's hilt he played. Then raised his haughty brow, and said * - •* Short be my speech ; nor time affords Nor my plain temper, glozing words. Kinsman and father — if such name Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's ciaim, Mine honored mother; Ellen — why, My cousin, turn away thine eye ? And Grceme ; 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 cinM To share their monarch's sylvan game THE lADY OJ THK LAKE. 357 Themselves in bloody toils were snared, And when the Lanquet they prepared, And wide their loyal portals flung O'er their own gateway struggling hung. Loud cries their blood from Meggat's uie?d From Yarrow braes and banks of Tweed. Where the lone streams of Ettricke gime. And from the silver Teviot's side ; The dales, where martial clans did ride, Are now one sheep-walk waste and wide. This tyrant of the Scottish throne, So faithless, and so ruthless known. Now hither comes ; his end the same, The same pretext of sylvan game. What grace for Highland chiefs judge y^ By f ite of Border chivalry. Yet more ; amid Glenfinlas green, Douglas, tliy stately form was seen. This by espial sure I know : Your counsel in the strait I show." Ellen and Margaret fearfully Sought comfort in each other's eye. Then turned their ghastly look, eacli ont*, This to her sire, that to her son. The hasty color went and came In the bold cheek of Malcolm Gramme . But, from his glance it well appeared, 'Twas but for Ellen that he feared • '* - While sorrowful, but undismayed, /r The Douglas thus his counsel said : — " Brave Roderick, though the tempest K)ar, - ' ft maj but thunder and pass o'er : 858 THE LADY OF TILE LAKK. Nor Will I here remain an hour, To draw the lightning on thy bower; For well thou know'st, at this gray Iiehi The royal bolt were fiercest sped. For thee, who, at tliy 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, The refuge of some forest cell ; There, like the hunted quarry, dwdl, Till, on the mountain and the moor, The stem pursuit be passed and o'er " No, by mine honor ! " Roderick said " So help me heaven, and my good blwle * No, never ! Blasted be yon pine. My fathers' ancient crest and mine, If from its shade in danger part The lineage of the Bleeding Heart! Hear my blunt speech. Grant me this maiil To wife, thy counsel to mine aid ; To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu, Will friends and allies flock enow; Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief, Will bind us to each Western Chief. When the loud pipes my bridal tell, The Links of Forth shall hear the knell. The guards shall start in Stirling"'s porch And when I light the nuptial torch, A thoTisand villages in flames, Shall scare tire slumbers of Kinsr James THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 359 — Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away, And, mother, cease these sighs, I pray { I meant not all my heat might say. Small need of inroad, or of fight, When the sage Douglas may unite Each mountain clan in friendly band, To guard the passes of their land, Till the foiled King, from pathless glen. Shall bootless turn him home agen. There are who have, at midnight hour, In slumber scaled a dizzy tower. And, on the verge that beetled o'er The ocean-tide's incessant roar. Dreamed calmly out their dangerous dreaiu. Till wakened by the morning beam; When, dazzled by the eastern glow, Such startler cast his glance below, And saw unmeasured depth around, And heard unintermitted sound. And thought the battled fence so frail, It waved like cobweb in the gale ; Amid his senses' giddy wheel. Did he not desperate impulse feel. Headlong to plunge himself below, And meet the worst his fears foreshow. Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound. As sudden ruin yawned around. By crossing terrors wildly tossed, Still for the Douglas fearing most, Could scarce the desperate thought withstand^ To buy his safety with her hand. Sucn purpose dread could Malcolm spy In Ellen's quivering lip and eye, 160 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. And eager rose to speak — but ere His tongue could hurry forth his fear, Had Douglas marked the hectic strife, Where death seemed combating with life For to her cheek, in feverish flood, One instant rushed the throbbing biooci Then ebbing back, with sudden sway, Left its domain as wan as clay. " Roderick, enough ! enough ! " be cheo, •' My daughter cannot be thy bride ; Not that the blush to wooer dear, Nor paleness that of maiden fear. It may not be — forgive her, chief Nor hazard aught for our relief. Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er Will level a rebellious spear. 'Twas I that taught his youthful liand To rein a steed and wield a brand. I see him yet, the princely boy ! Not Ellen more my pride and joy ; I love him still, despite my wrongs, By hasty wrath and slanderous tongues. Oh seek the grace you well may find. Without a cause to mine combined." Twice tiirough the hall the Chieftain strode The waving of his tartans broad, And darkened brow, where wounded priOd With ire and disappointment vied, Seemed, by the torch's gloomy lighL Like the ill Daemon of the night, Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway Upon the nighted pilgrim's way: THfc LADV OF Tilt: LAKE. 361 But, unrequited Love ! thy dart Plunged deepest its envenomed smart, And Roderick, witli thine anguish stung At length the hand of Douglas wrung, Wiiile eyes, that mocked at tears beforej With bitter drops were running o'er. The deatli-pangs of long-cherished hope Scarce in that ample breast had scope But, struggling with his spirit proud. Convulsive heaved its checkered shroud. While every sob — so mute were all — Wa4 heard distinctly through the hall The son's despair, the mother's look, 111 might the gentle Ellen brook; She rose, and to her side there came. To aid her parting steps, the Graeme. Then Roderick from the Douglas broke - As flashes flame through sable smoke, Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low, To one broad blaze of ruddy glow, So the deep anguish of despair Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air. With stalwart grasp his hand he laid On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid - "Back, beardless boy!" he sternly said, ' 'Back, minion! hold'st thou thus at naught The lesson I so lately taught? This roof, the Douglas, and that maid Thank thou for punishment delayed." Eager as grayhound on his game. Fiercely with Roderick grappled Grsemc. "Perish my name, if aught aflTord Its chieftain safety, save his sword!" 31 362 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Thus as they strove, their desperate Land Griped to the dagger or the brand, And death had been — but Douglas rose, And thrust between the struggling foes His giant strength : — " Chieftains, forego ! I hold the first who strikes, my foe. Madmen, forbear your frantic jar! What ! is the Douglas fa.len so far. His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil Of such dishonorable broil ! " Sullen and slowly they unclasp. As struck with shame, their desperate ^rasp. And each upon his rival glared, With foot advanced, and blade half bared. Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung. And Malcolm hoard his Ellen's scream, As faltered through terrific dream. Then Roderick plunged in sheath his swordi, And veiled his wrath in scornful word. " Rest safe till morning ; pity 'twere Such cheek should feel the midnight air ! Then may'st thou to James Stuart tell, Roderick will keep the lake and fell. Nor lackey, with his free-born clan, The pageant pomp of earthly man. More would he of Clan-Alpine know, Thou canst our strength and passes show. Malise, Avhat ho?" — his henchman came; "Give our safe conduct to the Graeme." Young Malcolm answered, calm and bold* "Fear nothing for thy favorite hold. THE LADY OF THF I-AKE. 36J1 The epot. an angel deigned to grace, Is tressed, though robbers haunt the place?. Thy churlish courtesy for those Reserve, who fear to be thy foes As safe to me the mountain wav A* midnight, as in blaze of day, Though, with his boldest at his back, Even Roderick Dhu beset the track 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. Old Allan followed to the strand, (Such was the Douglas's command,) And anxious told, how, on me morn, The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn, The Fiery Cross should circle o'e) 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. Himself would row him to the strand. He gave his counsel to the wind. While Malcolm did, unheeding, bmd, Round dirk and pouch and broadsword rolledi His ample plaid in tightened fold. And stripped his limbs to such array As best might suit the watery way. ''^hen spoke abrupt : — " Farewell to thee, Pattern of old fidelity!" 364 THE LADY OF THK I.AKE. Tne minstrel's hand he kindly pressed " Oh ! could I point a place of rest ! My sovereign holds in Avard my land, My uncle leads my vassal band ; To tame his foes, his friends to aid, Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade Yet, if there be one faithful Graeme, Who loves the Chieftain of his name, Not long shall honored Douglas dwell. Like hunted stag, m mountain cell: Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare- I may not give the rest to air ! — Tell Roderick Dhu, I owe him naught Not the poor service of a boat, To wafl me to yon mountain side ; " Then plunged he in the flashing tide. Bold o'er the flood his head he bore, And stoutly steered him from the shore And Allan strained his anxious eye, Far 'mid the lake his form to spy, Darkening across each puny wave, To which the moon her silver gave. Fast as the cormorant could skim, The swimmer plied each active limb Then landing in the moonlight deii. Loud shouted of his weal to teiL The Minstrel heard the far haJiOO, And joyful from the shore withdrew THE LADT OF THE LAKT. 36^ CANTO THIRD. THE GATHEBINQ. Time polls nis ceaseless course The race of yore Who danced ojir infancy upon theii knee, And told our marvelling boyhood legends store, Of iheir strange ventures happ'd by ^and or sea, How are they blotted from the things that be ! How few, all weak and withered of their force. Wait, on tlie 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. How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew Botli 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 yelled the gathering sound, And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteoi round. The summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Loch-Katrine blue; Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kissed tlie lake just stirred the trees 31* 366 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. And the pleased lake, like maiden coy rrembled but dimpled not for joy ; The mountain sliadows on her breaet. Were neither broken nor at rest; In bright uncertainty they lie, Like future joys to Fancy's eyo. The water lily to the light Her chalice reared of silver bright The doe awoke, and to the lawn Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fa^B The grey mist left the mountain side, The torrent showed 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 cooed the cushat dove, Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. No thought of peace, no thought of rest, Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breasL 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 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 : - THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Such glance the mountain eagle thre As, from the cliffs of Ben-venue, She spread her dark sails on the wind, And high in middle heaven reclined, Witli her bnad shadow on the lake. Silenced tlie warblers of the brake. 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 tlie Hermit by it stood. Barefooted, in his frock and hood. His grisled beard and matted hair Obscured a visage of despair; His naked arms and legs, seamed o*er The scars of frantic penance bore. 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 Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er; The haliowed creed gave only worse And deadlier emphasis of curse. No peasant sought that Hermit's prayei, His cave the pilgrim shunned with care, The eager huntsman knew his bound. And in mid chase called off his hounii ¥j8 the lady of the lakb. Or iJ", in lonely glen or strain, The desert-dweller met his path, He prayed, and signed the cross between. While terror took de/otion's mien. Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. His mother watched a midnight fold, Built deep within a dreary glen, Where scattered lay the bones of men, In some forgotten battle slain, And bleached by drifting wind and rain. It might have tamed a warrior's heart, To view such mockery of his art! The knot-grass fettered there the hand. Which once could burst an iron band ; Beneath the broad and ample bone. That bucklered heart to 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 mocked at time ; And there, too, lay the leader's skull. Still wreathed with chaplet flushed and full For heath-bell, with her purple bloom. Supplied th* bonnet and the plume. All night, in this sad glen the maid Sate shrouded in her mantle's shade : — She said, no shepherd sought her side, No hunter's hand her snood untied. Yet ne'er again to braid her hair The virgin snood did Alice wear: Gone was her maiden glee and sport. Her maiden girdle all too short, THE LADY OF THE LAKF 165 Nor sought she, from that fatal night. Or holy church or blessed rite, But locked her secret in her breast, And died in travail, unconfessed. 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. Till, frantic, he as truth received What of his birth the croud 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 pitymg gate ; In vain, the learning of the age Unclasped the sable-lettered page ; Even in its treasures he could find Food for the fever of his mind Eager he read whatever tells Of magic, cabala, and spells, And every dark pursuit allied To curious and presumptuous pride. Till, with firea brain and nerves o'erstruog And heart with mystic horrors wrung, Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, And hid him from the haunts of men, rhe desert gave him visions wild, 3ucn as might suit the Spectre's child. 370 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Wiere with black cliffs the torrents toil, He watched the wheeling eddies boil Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes Beheld the river demon rise ; The mountain mist took form and limb Of noontide hag or goblin grim; The midnight wind came wild and oread, Swelled with the voices of the dead ; Far on the future battle-heath His eye beheld the ranks of death: Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurlecli Siaped forth a disembodied world. One lingering sympathy of mind Still bound him to the mortal kind; The only parent he could claim Of ancient Alpine's lineage came. Late had he heard, in prophet's dream, The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream; Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, Of charjjingf steeds, careerincr fast Along Benharrow's shingly side. Where mortal horseman ne'er might nd« ; The thunderbolt had sj)lit the pine — All augured ill to Alpine's line. He girt his loins, and came to show The signals of impending wo. And now stood prompt to bless or ban. As bade the Chieftain of his clan. 'Twas nil prepared — and from the roCK, A goat, the patriarch of the flock, Before the kindling pile was laid, And pierced by Roderick's ready blado THE LADY OF THE I.AKK. 37 Patient the sickening victim eved The life-blood ebb in crimson tide, Down his clogged beard and shaggy mnb, Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, A slender crosslet framed with care. A cubit's length in measure due ; The shaft and limbs were rods of yew, Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave, And, answering Lomond's breezes deeo, Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep. The Cross, thus formed, he held on high, With wasted hand and haggard eye. And strange and mingled feelings woke. While his anathema he spoke. "Wo to the clansman, who shall view This symbol of sepulchral yew, 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 sL ill mingle with their dust, But from his sires and kindred thrust, / Each clansman's execration just Shall doom him wrath and wo. fie paused — tlie word the vassals took, With forward step and fiery look, On high their naked brands they shook, Their clattering targets wildly stroou - And first, m murmur low. Then, like the billow in his course That far to seaward finds his source, 172 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. And flings to sliore his mustered force, Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarue, " Wo to the traitor, wo ! " Ben-an's gray scalp the accents knew The joyous wolf from covert drew, The exulting eagle screamed afar — They knew the voice of Alpine's war. 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 flaiM And the few words that reached tne air, Although the holiest name was there. Had more of blasphemy than prayer. But when he shook above the crowd Its kindled points, he spoke aloud : — '' Wo to the wretch, who fails to rear At this dread sign the ready spear! For, as the flames this symbol sear. His home, the refuge of his fear, A kindred flite shall know ; Far o'er its roof the volumed flam'* Clan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim, While maids and matrons on his name Shall call down wretchedness and shame And infamy and wo ! " Then rose the cry of females, shrill As goss-hawk's whistle on the hill. Denouncing misery and ill. Mingled with childhood's babbling trill Of curses stammered slow ; Answering, with imprecation dread," •'Sunk be his home in embers red' THE LADY OF THE LAKE 37ii And cursed be the meanest shed That e'er shall hide tlie houseless head We doom to want and wo!" A sharp and shnekinfr echo gave, Coir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave ! And the gray pass where birches wave. On Beala-nam-bo. Then deeper paused the priest anew, And hard his laboring breath he drew, While, with set teeth and clenched hand, And eyes that glowed like fiery brand, He meditated curse more dread, And deadlier, on the clansman's head. Who summoned to his Chieftain's aid. The signal saw and disobeyed. The crosslet's points of sparkling wood. He quenched among the bubbling blood. And as again the sign he reared, Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard: •'When flits this Cross from man to man, Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan, Burst be the ear that fails to heed ! Palsied the foot that shuns to speed! May ravens tear the careless eyes! Wolves make the coward heart their prize! As sinks the 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 The murmur of the deep Amen, as i74 THE LADV^ OF THE LAKE. Tlien Roderick, with impatient look, From Brian's hand the symbol took ; " Spjed Malise, speed ! " he said, and g«'/0 The crosslet to his henchman brave ; * The muster-place be Lanric mead — Instant the time — speed, Malise, speed ! " Like heath-bird, when the hawks purs'ie, A barge across Loch-Katrine flew ; High stood the henchman on the prcw ; So rapidly the barge-men row, The bubbles, where they launched the boat. Were all unbroken and afloat, Dancing in foam and ripple still, When it had neared the mountain hill ; And from the silver beach's side Still was the prow three fathoms wide. When lightly bounded to the land. The messenger of blood and brand. Speed, Malise, speed ! the dun deer's hide 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 footsteps pass The trembling bog and false morass ; Across the brook like roebuck bound, And thread the brakes like questing hound The crag is high, the scaur is deep. Yet shrink not from the desperate leap: Parched are thy burning lips and brow Yet by the fountain pause net now THE LADI OF THE LAKE. 375 Herald of battle, fate, and fear. Stretch onward in thy fleot career! The wounded hind thou irack'st not now, Pursu'st not maid through greenwood bough, Nor pliest thou now thy flying pace With rivals in the mountain race ; But danger, death, and warrior deed Are in thy course — Speed, Malise, speed Past as the fatal symbol flies, In arms the huts and hamlets rise ; From winding glen, from upland brown, They poured each hardy tenant down. Nor slacked the messenger his pace; He showed the sign, he named the place And, pressing forward like the wind, Left clamor and surprise behind. The fisherman forsook the strand, The swarthy smith took dirk and brand, With changed cheer the mower blithe Left in half-cut swathe his scythe; The herds without a keeper strayed, The plough was in mid-furrow staid, The falc'ner tossed his hawk away, The hunter left the stag at bay; Prompt at the signal of alarms, Each son of Alpine rushed to arms; So swept the tumult and afiray Along thD margin of Achray. Alas, thou lovely lake ! that e'er Thy banks should echo sounds of fear J The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep So stilly on thy bosom deep, 376 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. The lark's blitlie carol from the cloud, Seems for the scene too gaily loud. Speed, Malise, speed ! the lake is past, Duncraggan's huts ap' f'ar at last, And peep, like mobo-groAvn rocks, half seem Half hidden in the copse so green ; There may'st thou rest, thy labor done, Their Lord shall speed the signal on. As stoops the hawk upon his prey, The henchman shot him down the way. — What woful 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. At Roderick's side shall fill his place! — Within the hall, where torch's ray Supplies the excluded beams of day, Lies Duncan on his lowly bier. And o'er him streams hip wido^v*^ tear. His stripling son stands mournful by, His youngest weeps, but knows not ''^^bv The village maids and matrons roun*? The dismal coronach resound. CORANACH. He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest. Like a summer-dried fountani When our need was the sorest The font, re-appearing. From the rain-drops shall bonov But to us Comes no chcermg, To Duircan no morrow ' THE LADY OF THE LAKE 377 The hand of the reaper Take the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory; The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are seareit, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber, Red hand in the foray, How sound is thy slumber! Like the dew on the mountain, Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain, Thou art gone, and for ever! See Stumah, who, the bier beside, His master's corpse with wonder eyed-^ Poor Stumah ! whom his least halloo Could send like lightning o'er the dew, Bristles his crest, and points his ears, As if some stranger step he hears. 'Tis not a mourner's muffled tread, Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead. But headlong haste, or deadly fear, 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 besmeared with blood **The muster-place is Lanrick mead-; Speed forth the signal! clansmen, speed!* 32 ^8 THE LADT OF THE LAKK. Angus, the her of Duncan's line, Sprang forth and seized the fital 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 opened arms he flew, Pressed on her lips a fond adieu, "Alas!" she sobbed — "and yet be gone, And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son! One look he cast upon the bier. Dashed from his eye the gathering tear, Breathed deep, to clear his laboring breast And tossed 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 marked the henchman's eye Wet with unwonted sympathy, "Kinsman," she said, "his race is run, That should have sped thine errand on, The oak has fallen — the sapling bough Is all Duncraggan's slielter 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 best your blades that drew To arms, and guard that orphan's head ! Let babes and women wail the dead." Then weapon-clang, and martial call. Resounded through the funeral hall THF LADY OF THE LAKE. 379 While from the walls the attendant banc Snatched sword and targe, with hurried hacd And short and flitting energy- Glanced from the moLirr.3r's sunken eye, A8 if the sounds to warrior dear Might rouse her Duncan from his bier. But faded soon that borrowed force ; G 'ef claimed his right, and tears their courie Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, It glanced like lightning up Strath- Ire O'er dale and hill the summons flew, Not 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 grazed the sable strath with green The chapel of Saint Bride was seen. Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge But Angus paused not on the edge ; Though the dark waves danced dizzily, Though reeled his sympathetic eye. He dashed amid the torrent's roar ; His right hand high the crosslet bore. His left the pole-axe grasped, to guide And stay his footing in the tide. He stumbled twice — the foam splashed higi^ With hoarser swell the stream raced by; And .lad he fallen — for ever there, Farewell Duncraggan's orphan heir' But still, as if in parting life. Firmer ho grasped the Cross of strife. 380 THE LADY OF THE I.AKE. Until tiie opposing bank he gained, And up the chapel pathway strained. A bl thesome rout, that morning tide, Had sought the chapel of Saint Bridft. Her troth Tombea's Mary gave To Norman, heir of Armandave, And, issuing from the Gothic arch. The bridal now resumed their march. In rude, but glad procession, came Bonnetted sire and coif-clad dame : And plaided youth, with jest and jeer, Which snooded maiden would not hear, And children, that, unwitting why, Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry ; And minstrels, that in measures vied Before the young and bonny bride. Whose downcast eye and cheek discloss The tear and blush of morning rose. With 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. Who meets them at the church-yard gv.t» I 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-soiled he stood. The fatal sign of fire and sword Held forth, and spoke the appointed »^ord THE LADY OF THE LAKE 38l •*The muster-place is Lanrick mead; Speed forth the signal ! Norman, 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 proPiised rapture in the close, Before its setting hour, divide The bridegroom from the plighted bride ? Oh fatal doom ! — it must ! it must ! Clan-Alpine's cause, her Chieftain's trust. Her summons dread, brooks no delay ; Stretch to the race — away ! away ! Yet slow he laid his plaid aside. And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride, Until he saw the starting tear Speak wo he might not stop to cheer; Then, trusting riot a second look. In haste he sped him up the brook, Nor backward glanced till on the heath Where Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teith. What in the racer's bosom stirred ? The sickening pang of hope deferred. And memory, with a torturing train Of all his morning visions vain. Mmgled 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 S82 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Stunff by such thoughts, o'er bank and 'jia« Like fire from flint he glanced away, While high resolve, and feeling ^strong Burst into voluntary "^'^ng. SONG. The heath this night must be my bed The bracken curtain for my head, My lullaby the warder's tread, Far, far from love and thee, Mary ; To-morrow eve, more stilly laid. My couch may be my bloody plaid, My vesper-song, thy wail, sweet maid 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; When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe, His heart must be like bended bow, His foot like arrow free, Mary ! A time will come with feeling fraught For, if I fall in battle fought. Thy hapless lover's dying tliought. Shall be a thought on thee, Mary ! And if returned from conquered foea, How blithely will the evening close, How dweet the linnet sing repose To my young bride and me, Marv THE LAOr OF THE LAKE. 385 Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze, Rushing in conflagration strong, Thy deep ravines and dells along, « Wrapping thy cliffs in purple glow, And reddening the dark lakes below; Not 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 Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course; Thence southward turned its rapid road Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad, rill rose in arms each man might claim A portion in Clan- Alpine's larae ; From the gray sire, whose trembling hand Cpuld hardly buckle on his brand, To the raw boy, whose shaft and bow Were yet scarce terror to the crow. Each valley, each sequestered glen. Mustered its little horde of men. That met as torrents from the height, In Highland dale their streams unite, S'ii'. 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 b'iood«' Each trained 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. S84 THE LADY OT TUT. LAKE. That summer morn had Roderick Dhu Surveyed the skirts of Ben-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 Rednock courts no horsemen wait, No banner waved on Cardross gate, On Duchray's towers no beacon shone, Nor scarerl the herons from Loch-Con; All seemed at peace. Now, wot ye why The Chieftain, with such anxious eye, Ere to the muster he repair, This western frontier scanned with carer In Ben-venue's most darksome cleft, A fair, though cruel pledge was left; For Douglas, to his promise true, That morning from the isle withdrew, And in a deep sequestered dell Had sought a low and lonely cell. By many a bard in Celtic tongue, Has Coir-nan-Uriskin been sung; A softer name tlie Saxon gave. And called tlie grot the Goblin-cave It was a wild and strange retreat, As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. The dell, upon the mountain's crest, Yawned like a gash on warrior's breast Its trench had stayed full many a rock. Hurled by primeval earthquake shock From Ben-venue's gray summit wild And here, in random ruin piled* I (IK LAlvlf OF THE LAKK. Tliej frowned incuiiibont o'er the spot, And formed the rutraed sylvan grot. The oak and birch, with mingled shade. At noontide there a twilight made, 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. No nmrmur waked the solemn still. Save tinkJing 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, Seemed nodding o'er the cavern gray From such a den the wolf had sprung, In such the wild cat leaves her young; Yet Douglas and his daughter fair. Sought, for a space, their safety there. Gray Superstition's whisper dread Debarred the spot to vulgar tread ; For there, she said, did fays resort, And satyrs hold tlieir sylvan court. By moonlight tread their mystic maze. And blast tlie rash beholder's gaze. Now eve, with western shadows long, Floated on Katrine bright and strong. When Roderick, with a chosen few, Repassed the heights of Ben-venua Above the Goblin-cave they go, Through the wild pass of Beai-nani-bo 33 385 38<) IHK LADY OF THE LAKE The prompt retainers speed before, To launch the shallop from the shore, For cross Loch-Katrine lies his "way To view the passes of Achray, And place his clansmen in array. Yet lags the chief in musing mind, Unwonted sight, his men behind. A single page, to bear his sword, Alone attended en his lord ; The rest their way through thickets break And soon await him by the lake. It was a fair and gallant sight. To view them from the neighboring height By the low-levelled sunbeam's light ; For strength and stature, from the clan Each warrior was a chosen man. As even afar might well be seen By tlieir proud step and martial mien. Their feathers dance, their tartans Hoal, Their targets gleam, as by the boat A wild and warlike group they stand. That well became such mountain strand. Their Chief, with step reluctant, still Was lingering on the craggy hill. Hard by where turned apart the road To Douglas's obscure abode. It was but with that dawning morn That Roderick Dhu had proud y sworn, To drown his love in war's wild roar, Nor think of Ellen Douglas irore ; But he who stems a stream with sand, And fetters flame with flaxen band. THELAUY OF THE LAKE. Has yet a harder task to prove — By firm resolve to conquer love ! Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost, Still ho.dring near his treasure lost; For though his haughty heart deny A parting meeting to his eye, Still fondly strains his anxious ear The accents of her voice to hear And inly did he curse the breeze That waked to sound the rustling treea. But, iiark! what mingles in the strain? It is the harp of Allan-bane, That wakes its measures slow and nigh, Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. What melting voice attends the strings r Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings! , HYMN TO THE VIRGIN. Ave Maria! maiden mild! Listen to a maiden's prayer! Thou canst hear though from the wild. Thou canst save amidst despair Safe may we sleep beneath thy care, Though banished, outcast, and reviled - Maiden, hear a maiden's prayer! Mother, hear a suppliant child! Ave Maria! Ave Maria ! undefiled ! The flinty couch we now must share^ Shall seem with down of eider piled, If thy protection hover there. 387 588 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. The murky cavern's heavy air Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled Then, Maiden, hear a maiden's prayer. MotJier, list a suppliant child ! Ave Maria ' Ave Maria! Stainless styled. Foul demons of the earth and air, From this their wonted haunt exiled, Shall flee before thy presence fair We bow us to our lot of care. Beneath thy guidance reconciled ; Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer! And for a father hear a child ! Ave Mana! 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, Until the page, with humble sign, TAvice pointed to the sun's decline. Then, while his plaid he round hira cas^ " It is the last time — 'tis the last " — He muttered thrice — " the last time e'ei That angel-voice shall Roderick hear ! " It was a goading thoughV — his stride Hied hastier down the mountain side Sullen he flung him in the boat. And instant cross the lake it shot They landed in that silvery bay, And eastward held their hasty way. Till, with the latest beams of light, The bind arrived on Lanrick height THE \D^ OF THK LAKR. Wnere mustered in the vale belcw, Clan-Alpine's men in martial show. A various scene the clansmen made, Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed- But most, with mantles folded round, Were couched to rest upon the ground, Scarce to be known, by curious eye, From the deep heather where they lie, So well was matched the tartan screen With heath-bell dark and brackens green; Unless where, here and there, a blade. Or lance's point, a glimmer made, T^ike glow-worm twinkling through the shada But, when, advancing through the gloom. They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume, Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, Shook the steep mountain's steady side. Thrice it arose, and lake and fell Three times returned the martial yelL It died upon Bochastle's plain, And Silence clain^ed her evening roign ^90 THE LADY OF THE LAKE CANTO FOURTH THE PHOPHECT. • TiiE rosj is fkirest when 'tis budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fbara The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, And love is loveliest when embalmed m tears Oh 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 wavai Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue. All while he stripped the wild-rose spray, His axe and bow beside him lay. For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood, A wakeful sentinel he stood. Hark! — on the rock a footstep rung 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, Tl.oa bring'st us tidings of the foe." (For while the Fiery Cross hied on. On distant scout had Malise gone.) " Where sleeps the Chief? " tlie hencnmcji saad. ** Apart, in yonder misty glade : To his lone couch I'll be your guide** Then called a dumberer by his siUe, THE LADY Or 1 HE LAKE. 19^ And stirred him with his slackened bow — " Up, up, Glentarkin ! rouse thee, ho ! We seek the Chieftain ; on the track, Keep eagle watch till I come back." Together up the pass they sped : " What of the foeman ? " Norman said Varying reports from near and far ; This certain — that a band of war Has for two days been ready boune. At prompt command, to march from Doune ; King James, the while, with princely powers. Holds revelry in Stirling towers. Soon will this dark and gathering cloud Speak on our glens in thunder loud. Inured to bide such bitter bout, The warrior's plaid may bear it out , But, Norman, how wilt thou 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, --^-:^^.WQr *tiff nor shallop, boat nor barge, UpT5n these lakes shall float at large, But all beside tlie islet moor. That such dear pledge may rest secure ^ " "^Tis well advised — the Chieftain's plan Bespeaks the father of his clan. But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu Apai-t from all his followers true ^ " 593 THE LADf OF THE LAEB "It is because last eveniiig-tide Brian an augury hath tried, Of that dread kind which must not be Unless in dread extremity, The Taghairm called; by which, afar. Our sires foresaw the events of war. Diincraggau's milk-white bull tney slew MALISE. •* Ah ! well the gallant brute I knew, The choicest of the prey we had. When swept our merry-men Gallangad. His hide was snow, his horns were dark. His red eye glowed like fiery spark; So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet. Sore did 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 Row, A child might scatheless stroke his brow. NORMAN. " That bull was slain ; his reeking hide They stretched the cataract beside, Whose waters their wild tumult toss Adown the black and craggy boss Of that huge cliff*, whose ample verge Tradition calls th^ Hero's Targe. R THE LADY OF THE LAKE 39JJ Couched on a shelve beneath its brink, Close where the thundering torrents sink, Kocking beneath their headlong sway, And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream, The wizard waits prophetic dream. Nor distant rests the Chief: — but hush I See, gliding slow through mist and bush, Tie Hermit gains yon rock, and standi? 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 ? " " Peace ! peace ! to other than to me, Thy words were evil augury; But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade Clan-Alpine's omen and her aid. Not aught that, gleaned from heaven or iiel Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell. The Chieftain joins him, see — and liow, Together they descend the broAv." Andj as they came with Alpine's Lord The Hermit Monk held solemn word: " Roderick ! it is a fearful strife, For man endowed with mortal life, Whose shroud of sentient clay can still Fell feverish pang and fainting chill, Whose eye can stare in stony trance. Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lanco - 'TIS hard for such to view, unfurled. The cu"tain of the future world- 394 THE LADY OF THE LaKE. Vet witness every quaking limb, My sunken pu.se, mi.ie eyeballs dim, My soul wilh harrowing anguish torn, This for my Chieftain have I borne ! The shapes that sought my fearful couchi 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. At length the fateful answer came, In characters of living flame ! Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll, But borne and branded on my soul ; Which spills the forkmost foeman's urm That party conquers in the strife " "Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care' Good is thine augury, and fair. Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood. But first our broadswords tasted blood. A surer victim still I know, Se.f-ofTered to the auspicious blew: A spy hath sought my land this morn, Nc eve shall witness his return ! < My followers guard each pass's moutli, To oast, to westward, and to south ; Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide, Has charge to lead his steps aside, Till, in deep path or dingle brown, He light on those shall bring him dowa But see, who comes his news to show MaJise ! what tidmsrs of the fo^ '* THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 395 " At Donne, oVt many a spear and glaive, Two Barons proud their banners wave. I saw the Moray's silver star, And marked the sable pale of Mar." " By Alpine's soul, high tidings those ! I love to hear of wortliy 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? 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, Fa^er for child, and son for sire - Lover for maid. beloved ! — but why — Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? Or dost thou come, ill-omened 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 Roderick Dhu 5 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, Obedient to th*» Chieftain's glance. I turn me from the martial roar, And seek Coir-lJriskm once more. 396 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Where is the Douglas? — he is gone; And Ellen sits on the gray stone Fast by the cave, and makes her moan; While vainly Allan's words of cheer Are poured on her unheeding ear. " He will return — dear lady, trust ! — With joy return ; he will — he must ! Well was it time to seek afar Some refuge from impending war, '''' \en e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm cow'd by the approaching storm. ^iiw their boats, with many a* light, Floating the live-long yestern-ght, Shifting like flashes darted fjrth By the red streamers of the north ; I marked at morn how close they ride. Thick moored by the lone islet's sidCj 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 nobJe father's care Some safe retreat for thee prepare?" " No, Allan, no ! Pretext so kind My wakeful terrors could not blind. When in such tender tone, yet grave, Douglas a parting blessing gave, The tear that glistened in his eye Drowned not his purpose fixed and high My soul, though feminine and weak, Can image I"* is ; e'en as the lake, . Itself disturbed by slightest stroke, Reflects the invulnerable rock. THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 3JW He hears reports of battle rife. He deems himself the cause ot strife I saw him redden, when the theme Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream, Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bound, Which I, thou said'st, about him wound. Think'st thou he trowed thine omen aught? Oh no ! 'twas apprehensive thought For the kind youth — for Roderick too — (Let me be just) that friends so true ; In danger both, and in o ir cause ! Minstrel the Douglas dar ■ not pause. Why else that solemn warning given, ' If not on earth we meet m heaven ? ' Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane, If eve return him not again, Am I to hie and make me known ? Alas ! he goes to Scotland's throne, Buys his friends' safety with his own; He goes to do — what I had done. Had Douglas' daughter been his son ! ** Nay, lovely Ellen ! — dearest, nay ! If aught should his return delay, He only named yon holy fane As fitting place to meet again. Be sure he's safe ; and for the Grceme. Heaven's blessing on his gallant name My visioned 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 tliink upon the harpinga slow. That presaged *his approaching woi 34 SJ>8 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Sooth was my prophecy ( f fear , Believe it when it aiigurt. cheer. Would we had left this dismal spot ' 111 luck still haunts a fairy grot, Of such a wond'rous tale i know — Dear lady change that look of wo ! My lieart was wont thy grief to cheer' ELLEN " Well, be it as hou wilt ; I hear, But cannot stop the bursting tear." The Minstrel tried his simple art, But distant far was Ellen's heart 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 ii^ ^ And the hunter's horn is ringing. ''Oh Alice Brand! my native land Is lost for love of you; And we must hold by wood and wold, As outlaws wont to do. ** Oh Alice ! 'twas all for thy .ocks so bright, And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, That on the night of our lucki »ss flight, Thy brother bold I slew. IHE /*.VOT OF THE LAKE. 3t^ *'Now mast I iejich to hew the beech. The hand that held the glaive, For leaves to spread our lowly bed, And stakes tc fence our cave • ' And for vest of pall, thy fingers 8mai», * That wont on harp to stray, A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deef To keep the cold away." * Oh Richard ! if my brother died, 'Twas but a fatal chance ; for darkling was the battle tried, And Fortune sped the lance, '* If pall and vair no more 1 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, Still Alice has her own Rictird, And he his Alice Brand." BALLAD — CONTINtTED. Tis merry, *tis merry in good greenwood. So blithe Lady Alice is singing; On the beach's pride, and the oak's brown 8id«^ Lord Richard's axe is ringing. 100 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Up spoke ciie moody Elfin King-, Who won'd within the hill — Like wind in the porch of a ruined chjin^ft, Hi3 voice was ghostly shrill. Why sounds yon stroke on beach and 9alr. Oui moonlight circle's screen ? Or wiio comes here to chase the deer, Beloved of our Elfin Queen? Or who may dare on wold to wear The fairy's fatal green? ** Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie, For thou wert christened man ; For cross or sign thou wilt not fly, For muttered word or ban. "Lay on him the curse of the withered hoait, The curse of the sleepless eye ; Till he wish and pray that his life would part, Nor yet find leave to die." BALLAD — CONTINUED. *Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood, Though the birds have stilled their aingijRg; The evenmg blaze doth Alice raise, And Richard is faggots bringing. Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf Before Lord Richard stands, And, as he crossed and blessed himself, •*I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, "That is made with bloody hands." THE lADY OF THE LAKE. 40' 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, The blood of Ethert Brand " Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand, And made the holy sign — " And 4f there's blood on Richard's hand A spotless hand is mine. "And I conjure thee. Demon elf, By him whom Demons fear, To show us whence thou art thyself? And what thine errand hero ? " BALLAD — CONTINUED. "Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairy-land, When fairy birds are singing. When the court doth ride by their monarch's tnin With bit and bridle ringing: " And gaily shines the Fairy-land — But all is glistening show, liike the idle gleam that Decenber's beam Can dart on ice and snow 409 IHE LADT OF THE LAKE. * Aud fading, like that varied gleam. Is our inconstant shape, Who now like knight and lady seem, And now like dwarf and ape. "It was between the night and day, When the Fairy king has power That I sank down in a sinful fray, And, 'twixt life and death, was snatched away To the joyless Elfin bower. " But wist I of a woman bold. Who thrice my brow durst sign, I might regain my mortal mold As fair a form as thine." She crossed him once — she crossed him twice - That lady was so brave ; The fouler grew his goblin hue, The darker grew the cave. She crossed him thrice, that lady bold; He rose beneath her baud The fairest knight on Scottish mold, Her brother, Ethert Brand ! Merry it is in the good greenwood. When the mavis and merle are singm^, But merrier were they in Dunfermline graj When all tlie bells were ringing. Just ^s the minstrel's sounds were staid A stranger climbed the steepy glade* r THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 4(A His martial step, his stately mien, [lis hunting-suit of Lincoln ^reen, His ea^rle glance remembrance claims Tis Snowdoun's Knight — 'tis James Pil3C»* James ' Ellen beheld, as in a dream, Then starting, scarce suppressed a scream "Oh stranger! in feuch hour of fear, What evil hap has brought thee here ? " * An evil hap how can it be,. That bids me look again on thee ? By promise bound, my former guide Met me betimes this morning tide. And marshalled, over bank and bourne, The huppy path of my return." • " The happy path ! — what ! said he naught Of war, of battle to be fought. Of guarded pass ? " — " No, by my faith ♦ Nor saw I aught could augur scathe." " Oh 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 tliee here.". Sweet Ellen, dear my life mubt be. Since it is worthy care froir thee ; Yet life I hold but idle breath. When love or honor's weighed with deit& Then let me profit by my chance. And speak my purpose bold at onr« 104 THE LAD/ OF THE LAKK I come to bear thee from a wild, Where ne'er before such blossom snUied By this soft hand to lead thee far From frantic scenes of feud and war Near Bochastle my horses wait; They bear us soon to Stirling gate. I'll place thee in a lovely bower, I'll guard thee like a tender' flower " "Oh! hush, Sir Knight! 'twere female ait 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, n deathful hour, o'er dangerous track; And how, oh how can I atone The wreck my vanity brought on ! One way remains — I'll tell him all — Yes, struggling bosom, forth it shall! Thou, whose light folly bears the bkme, Buy thine own pardon with thy shame! But first — my father is a man Outlawed and exiled, under ban ; The price of blood is on his head, With me 'twere infamy to wed. Still would'st thou speak? — then hear the Jcratfc Fitz-James, there is a noble youth — If yet he is ! — exposed for me And mme to dread extremity — Thou hast the secret of my heail; forgive, be generous, and depart** Fitz-James knew every wily train A lady's ficlde heart to gain, But here he knew and felt them vain. THE I ADY OF THE LAKE. 405 There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, To give her steadfast speech the lie ; In maiden confidence she stood, Though mantled in her cheek the blood, And told her love with such a sigh Of deep and hopeless agony, As death had sealed her Malcolm's dookn, And she sat sorrowing on his tomb. Hope vanished from I'itz-James's eye, But not %yith hope fled sympathy. He proffered to attend her side. As brother would a sister guide. " Oh ! little knowest thou Roderick's heart ♦ Safer for both we go apart Oh 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 ; Then, as some thought had crossed his brain He paused, and turned, and came again. **■ 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, ¥\a lordship, the embattled field- ion THE LaPT OF THE LAKB. What from a prince can I demand, Who neither reck of state nor land ? Ellen, thy hand — the ring is thine ; Each guard and uslier knows the sigo. Seek thou the king witiiout delay ; This signet shall secure thy way ; And claim thy suit, whate'er it be, As ransom of his pledge to me." He placed the golden, circlet on, Paused — kissed her hand — and then was gcat The aged Minstrel stood aghast, So hastily Fitz-James shot past. He joined his guide, and wending down The ridges of the mountain brown, Across the stream they took their way, That joins Loch-Katrine to Achray. All in the Trosachs' glen was still. Noontide was sleeping on the hill : Sudden his guide whooped loud and hi^ " Murdoch ! was that a signal cry ? " He stammered forth — "I shout to scare Yon raven from his dainty fare." He looked — he knew the raven*s prey. His own brave steed : — " Ah ! gallant gray / For thee — for me perchance — 'twere wel) We ne'er had seen the Trosachs' dell. Murdoch, move first — but silently ; Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die.' Jea-ous and sullen on they fared, Each silent, each upon his guard. Now wound the path its dizzy lodge Arourd a precipice's edfe THE J AOY OK ThK LAKE 40) When lo ! a wasted female form, Blighted by wrath of sun and storm, In tattered weeds and wild array, Stood on a cliff beside the way, And glanc ng round her restless eye Upon the wood, the rock, the sky, Seemed naught to mark, yet all to spy. Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom; With gesture wild she waved a plume Of feathers, which the eagles fling To crag and cliff from dusky wing Such spoils her desperate foot had sought, Where scarce Avas footing for the goat The tartan plaid she first descried, And shrieked, till all the rocks replied ; As loud she laughed when near they drew, For then the Lowland garb she knew ; And then her hands she wildly wrung. And then she wept, and then she sung. She sung ! — the voice, in better time. Perchance to harp or lute might chime ; And now, though strained and roughened tiitill Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. SONG. "•They bid me sleep, they bid me pray, They say n: ' brain is warped and wrung I cannot sleep m Highland brae, I cannot pray in Highland tongue But were I now where Allan glideo. Or heard my native Devan's tides, S/> sweetly would I rest and pray That heaven would '•lose my wintery day I MS THL LADY OF THE LAKF. "Twas thus my hair they bade me braid; They bade me to the church repair; It was my bridal morn, they said, And my true-love would meet me thera, But wo betide the cruel guile, That drowned in blood the morning smile And wo betide the fairy dream 1 only waked to sob and scream." "Who is this maid? what mean? her lay? She hovers o'er the hollow way. And flutters wide her mantle gray, As the lone heron, spreads his wing, By twilight, o'er a haunted spring." " 'Tis Blanche of Devan," Murdoch said, "A crazed and captive Lowland maid, Ta'en on the morn she was a bride, When Roderick forayed Devan-side. The gay bridegroom resistance made, And felt our Chiefs unconquered blade. 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 blo^v, I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far As ever peasant pitched a bar." " Thanks, champion, thanks !" the Maniac cne As waves before the bark divide, The crowd gave way before his stride*, Needs but a buffet and no more, The gn)om lies senseless in his gore. Such blow no other hand could deal, Though gauntletted In glove of steel Then clamored loud the royal train, And brandished swords and staves amain; But stern the Baron's warning — " Back ! Back on your lives, ye menial pack! Beware the Douglas. Yes ! behold, King James, the Douglas, doomed of old. And vainly sought for near and far, A victim to atone the war. A willing victim, now attends, Nor craves thy grace but for his friends." " Thus is my clemency repaid ? Presumptuous lord!" the Monarch said; "Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan. Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man, The only man, in whom a foe My woman-mercy Avould not know: But shall a Monarch's presence brook Injurious blow, anu haughty look? What ho! the Captain of our Guara • Give the offender fitting ward. Break off the sports ! " for tumult rose, And yeoman 'gan to bend their bows- » Break off the sports ! " he said, and frowneu •*And bid our horseman clear the griund." Then uproar wild and misarray Mari'd the. f vir ^jrin o^ festal day 440 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. The horsemen pricked among the crowd, Repelled by threats and insult loua , To earth are borne the old and weaic, The timorous fly, the women shriek, With flint, with shaft, with staff, wiin omi The hardier urge tumultuous war. At once round Douglas darkly sweep The royal spears in circle deep, And slowly scale the pathway steep, While on tlieir rear in thunder pour The rabble with disordered 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 ; For that good deed, permit me, then, A word with these misguided men. " Hear, gentle friends ! ere yet, for me. Ye oreak the bands of fealty. Mr life, my honor, and my cause, I 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, That, for mean vengeance on a foe. Those chords of love I should unbind, Which knit my country and my kind? Oh no ! Believe, in yonder tower !•; will not soijthe my captive hour, THE LADV OF THE LAKE. 41S To know those spears our foes should dread. For iw m kindred gore are red ; To know, in fruitless brawl begun, For me, that mother wails her son: For rne, that widow's mate expires. For me, that orphans weep their sires. That patriots mourn insulted laws, And curse the Douglas for the cause. Oh let your patience ward such ill, A.nd keep your right to love me still*" The crowd's wild fury sunk again In tears, as tempests melt in rain. With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed For blessings on his generous head, Who for nis country felt aione. Who prized ner blood oeyonu iiis own. Old men, upon the ve'*gp of Ule, Blessed him who staid the civn 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 arras and drooping dead, The Dougla? up the hill he led, And at the castle's battled verge, With sighs, resigned his honored chaise. The offende-i Monarch rode apart, With bitier *^hought and swelling heart, And would "^ot now v(^uclisafe ao-ain Throuirh Stirling streets to lead nia traixw 142 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. " Oh Lennox, who would wish to rule This changling crowd, this common fooj ; Hear'st thou," he said, " tiie loud acclaim With which they shout the Douglas name'*' With like acclaim, the vulgar throat Strained for King James their morning note With like acclaim they hailec the day When first I broke the Douglas' sway ; And like acclaim would Douglas greet, If he could hurl me from my seat. Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain? Vain as the leaf upon the stream, And fickle as a changeful dream ; Fantastic as a woman's mood, And fierce as Frenzy's fevered blood. Thtfu many-headed monster-thing. Oh who could wish to be thy king! " But soft ! what messenger of speed Spurs hitlierward his panting steed ? I guess his cognizance afar — What from our cousin, John of Mar ? ' "He prays, my liege, your sports kee\. ovtiOQ Within the safe and guarded ground: For some foul purpose yet unknown — Most sure for evil to the throne — The outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, Has summoned his rebellious crew ; *Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid These loose banditti stand arrayed The Earl of Mar, this morn, frun Doui-ej To break iheir muster marched. o.ad soon THI LADY OF THE LAKE 44J* Your grace will hear of battle foug-^. , But earnestly the Earl besought, Till for such danger he provide, With scanty train you will not ride. Thou warn'st me I have done amisa I should have earlier looked to this I lost it in this bustling day. Retrace with speed thy former w Spare not for spoiling of thy steed, The best of mine shall be thy meed, Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, We do forbid tlie intended war ! Roderick, this morn, in single fight. Was made our prisoner by a knight, And Douglas hath himseil and cause Submitted to our kingdoms lawR. The tidings of their leaders .ost Will soon dissolve the mountain hosi> Nor would we t?iat the vulgar feel. For their Chief's crimes, avenging steeL Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly." He turned his steed — "My liege, 1 hie, Yet, ere I cross this lily lawnj I fear the broadswords will be drawn." The turf the flying courser spurned, And to his towers the King returned. Ill with King James's mood that day Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ; Soon was dismissed the courtly throng And soon cut short the festal song. Nor less upon the saddened town The evening sank in sorrow down; 144 THf LADT or TtlK UkUU. The burghers spoke of civil jar, Of rumored feuds and mour.tain war, Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, All up in arms: tiie Douglas too, They mourned him pent within the noit Where stout Earl William was of old And tlicre his word the speaker staid, And finger on his lip he laid. Or pointed to his dagger blade. 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 tlie set of s)]n. Thia giddy rumor shook the town, Till closed the Ni^bt her peonoos orovm> THE LADT OF 1 HE LAKE. 44*1 CANTO SIXTH. THE GUARD-ROOM. The sun, a-^vakenhig, through the smoky air Of the dark city casts a sullen glance, Rousing each caitiff to his task of care, Of sinful man the sad inheritance Summoning revellers from the lagging dance 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 uti I wnat scenes of wo, Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam ! The fevered patient, from his pallet low, Through crowded hospital beholds it stream; The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam, •Fhe debtor wakes to thoughts of gyve and jail, The love-lorn wretch starts frotn tormenting dream ; The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale. Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. At dawn the towers of Stirling rang With soldier-step and weapon-clang, While drums, with rolling note, foretell Relief to weary sentinel. Tr.rcugh narrow loop and casement barred, Tb"i K'nbeims sought the Court of Guard, t4t> 'IIIK LADY OF THF /aKJ' And, struggling with the srioLy su, Deadened the torches' yello/f glare. In comfortless alliance shon« The lights through arch ot olackened atoiw And showed wild shapes in garb of war. Faces deformed with beard and scar, All haggard from the inidnight watch, And fevered with the stern debauch', For the oak table's massive board. Flooded with wine, with fragments stored, And beakers drained, and cups o'erthrown. Showed in what sport the night had flowf Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ; Some labored still tlieir thirst to quench; Some, chilled with watching, spread their hands O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, While round them, or beside them flung, At every step their harness rung. These drew not for their fields the sword. Like tenants of a feudal lord, Nor owned the patriarchal claim Of chieftain in their leaders name ; Adventurers they, from far who roved, To live by battle M'hich they loved. There the Italian's clouded face, The swarthy Spaniard's there you tract , 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 showed French and German namtf And merry England's exiles came. THE LADY OF THE LAKE 443 To share, with ill-concealed disdain, Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain. All brave in arms, well trained to wield ^ Th3 heavy halbert, brand, and shield; In camps, licentious, wild, and bold: In pillage, fierce and uncontrolled; And now, by holytide and feast, From rule?: of discipline released. Tney held debate of bloody fray. Fought 'twixt Loch-Katrine and Achray. Fierce was their speech, and, mid their wordi, Their hands ofl grappled to their swords; Nor sank their tone to spare the ear Of wounded comrades groani^ig near, Whose mangled limbs, and bodies gored, Bore token of the mountain sword. Though, neighboring to the Court of Guard, Their prayers ' ad feverish wails were heard ; Sad burden^^u to the ruffian joke, And savage oath by fury spoke! — At length upstarted John of Brent, A yeoman from the banks of Trent; A stranger to respect or fear, In peace a chaser of the deer. In host a hardy mutineer. But still the boldest of the crew When deed of danger was to do. He grieved, that day, their games cut shell And marred the dicers' brawling sport, And shouted loud, " Renew the bowl ! And, while a merry catch J troll, Let each the buxom chorus bear, Like brethren of tht brand and spear." 448 THE LA.DT OF THE LAKE SOLDIER'S SONG. Oir vicar still p eaches that Peter and Po lie Laid a swinging ong curse on the bonny brown bowi That there's wrath and despair in the jolly black jack And 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 Belzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly, And Apollyon shoots darts from her merry black eye Yet whoop. Jack ! kiss Gillian the quicker. Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for tlie vicar! Our vicar thus preaches — and wliy 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 ! oflT with your liquor, Bweet Marjorie's the word, and a fig for the vicar: The warder's challenge heard without, Stayed in mid roar the merry shout. A soldier to the portal went — "Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; And, beat for jubilee the drum ! A maid and minstrel wiih him come. Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarred, W.is entering now the Court of (luard. THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 44» A harper with him, and, in plaid All muffled close, a mountain maid, Who backward shrank, to 'scape the view Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. « What news ? " they roared : — " I only know From noon till eve we fought with foe, As wild and as untameable As the rude mountains where they dwell. On both sides store of blood is lost, Not much success can either boast" "But whence thy captives, friend? such spoil As theirs must need 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, The leade- of a juggler band." "No, comrade; — no such fortune mine After the fight, these sought our line, That aged harper and the girl, And, having audience of the Earl, Mar bade I should purvey 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 Broiit Ever to strife and jangling bent ; "Shall he stiike doe beside our lodge. And yet the jealous niggard grudge To pay the forester his fee? ril have my share howe'er it be, Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee." Bertram his forward step withstood; And, burning in his vengeful mood. 38* do THE LADY OK THE LAKE Old Allan, thougl unfit tor strife, Laid hand upon h s dagger-knife ; But Ellen boldly stepped between, And dropped at once the tartan screen . So, from \m morning cloud, appears The sun of May, through summer Leaa The savage soldiery, amazed, As on descended angel gazed ; Even hardy Brent, abashed and tara<'^ Stood half-admiring, half-ashamed. Boldly she spoke - • " Soldiers, a.tteiJ \ My father was che soldier's friend ; Cheered him ui camps, in marches led. And with him in the battle bled. Not from the valiant, or the strong, Should exile's daugJiter suffer wrong.** Answered De Brent, most forward still In every feat of good or ill, "I shame me of the part I played; And tliou an outlaw's child, poor maid' An outlaAv I, by Forest laws. And merry Needwood knows the causa 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 Captam of our watch to hall : There lies my halbert on the floor ; And he that steps my halbert o'er, To do the Liaid injurious part, My shafl shall quiver in his heart! Beware loose speech, or jesting rough, Ye all kiow John dr Brent. Enough." THE LADY Ot THE LAKE. 45l Their Captain came, a gallant young — (Of TuUibardine's house he siprung — ) Nor wore he yet the spur of knight; Gay was .his iiien, his humor light. And, though by courtesy controlled, Forward his speech, his bearing bold. The high-born maiden iV could brook The scanning of his curious look And dauntless eye ; and yet, in sooth, Young Lewis was a generous youth *, But Ellen's lovely ftice and mien. Ill-suited to the garb and scene, Might lightly bear construction strange, And give loose fancy scope to range. •V 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. Or may the venture suit a squire?" Her dark eye flashed ; she paused and sighed — •'Oh what have I to do with pride! — Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and atnfo, A suppliant for a father's life, I crave an audience of the King. Behold, to back my suit, a ring, The royal pledge of grateful claims. Given by the Monarch to Fitz James.'* The signet-rmg young Lewis tooK, With deep respect and altered look; And said — "This ring Dur duties own And oardon, if, to wortl mknown. 45y THE LADY OF THE LAITE. , In semblance mean, obscurely veiled, Lady, in aught my folly failed. Soon as the day flings wide \he gates, The King shall know what suitor wait« Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower Repose you till his waking hour ; Female attendance shall obey Your best, for service or array. Permit I marshal you the way." But, ere she 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 proffered gold ; " Forgive a haughty English heart. And oh, forget its ruder part ! The vacant purse shall be my share, Which in my barret-cap I'll bear. Perchance, in jeopardy of war, Where gayer crests may keep afar." With thanks — 'twas all she could — the Tiaw His rugged courtesy repaid. When Ellen forth with Lewis went, Allan made suit to John of Brent: — " My lady safe, oh 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 lyrew, THE L/Vni OF THE LAKE. »«'SR Nor one of all tlie 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, Teach the youth tales of fight, and gracH 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 Brent, " We southern men, of long descent : Nor wot we how a name — a word — Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : Yet kind my noble landlord's part — God bless the house of Beaudesert And, but I loved to drive the deer. More than to guide the laboring stc I had not dwelt an outcast here. Come, good old Minstrel, follow me Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou Then, from a rusted iron hook, A bunch of ponderous keys he took, Lighted a torch, and Allan led Through grated arch and passa-ge dread. Portals they passed, where, deep within. Spoke prisoner's moan and fetters' din, Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword. And many an hideous engine grim, For wrenching joint, and crushing limb. IM TI.E LA.P7 OF THE LAKl!,. ► By artists formed, who deemed it shaiur And sin to give their work a name. They halted at a low-browed "porcii, And Brent to Allan gave the torch, While bolt and chain he backward rolled And made the bar unhasp its hold. They entered — 'twas a prison-room Of stern security and gloom, Yet not a dungeon ; for the day Through lofty gratings found its way, And rude and antique garniture Decked the sad walls and oaken floor ; Such as the rugged days of old. Deemed fit for captive noble's hold. "Here," said De Brent, "thou may'st leiXMUff Till the Leach 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 growled anew. Roused at the sound, from lowly bed A captive feebly raised his head; The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew Not hts dear lord, but Roderick Dhu ! F4 THE LADY OF THE LAKl Set are his teeth, his fading eye Is sternly fixed on, vacancy, Thus, motionless and moanless, drew His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu * - • Old Allan-bane looked on aghast, While grim and still his spirit passed ; But when he saw that life was fled, He poured his wailing o'er the dead. LAMENT. " And art thou cold, and lowly laid. Thy foeman's dread, thy people's aid, Breadalbane's boast, Clan-Alpine's shade, For thee shall none a requiem say ! — For thee, who loved the minstrel's lay For thee, of Both well's house the stay, The shelter of her exiled line. E'en in this prison-house of thine, I'll wail for Alpine's honored 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, 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. Oh wo for Alpine's honored pine ! " Sad was thy lot on mortal stage ; — The captive thrush may brook the cage, The prisoned eagle dies for rage. THE LADY OF THE LAKE 405 Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain i And, wnen its notes awake again, Even she, so long beloved in vain, Shall with my harp her voice combine, Ana mix her wo and tears with mine, Tc wail Clan-Alpine's honored pine.*' « Ellen the while, with bursting heart, Remained in lordly bower apart. Where played, with many-colored gieain*, Through storied pane the rising beams. In vain on gilded roof they fall. And lightened up a tapestried wall, 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 looked, 'twas but to aay. With better omen dawned 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, While Lufra, crouching by her side. Her station claimed with jealous pride; And Douglas, bent on woodland game, Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Grseme, Whose answer, oft at random made, The wandering of his thoughts betrayed — Those who such simple joys have known. Are taught to prize them when they're gone But sudden, see, she lifts her head ! The winilow seeks with cautious tread 166 TIIK I.A'iY ni' TriK I.AKK. What distant music has the powet To win her in this woful hour! 'Twas from a turret that o'erhung Her latticed bower, the strain was sung LA.Y OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN "My nawk is tired of perch and hood. My idle grayhound 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, With bended bow and bloodhound free. For that's the life is meet for me. " I hate to learn the ebb of time, From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime, Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl. Inch after inch, along the wall. The lark was wont my matins ring. The sable rook my vespers sing; These towers, although a king's they h% Have not a hall of joy for me. * No more at dawning morn I rise, And sun myself in Ellen's eyes. Drive the fleet deer the forest througn, And homeward wend with evening aem 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 mt? ** THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Tlie heart-sick lay was hardly said, The list'ner had not turned her head. It trickled still, the starting tear, When light a footstep struck her ear. And Snowdoun's graceful Knight was neaf. She turn3d the hastier, lest again The prisoner should renew his strain. " Oh welcome, brave Fitz-Jaraes ! " she said "How may an almost orphan maid Pay the deep debt" " Oh say not so, To me no gratitude you owe. Not mine, alas ! the boon to give. And bid thy noble father live; I can but be thy guide, sweet maid, With Scotland's King thy suit to am No tyrant he, though ire and prido May lead his better mood aside. Come, Ellen, come! — 'tis more than tun© He holds his court at morning prime." With beating heart, and bosom wrung, As to a brother's arm she clung. Gently h& dried the falhng tear, 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. Within 'twas brilliant all and light, A tlironging scene of figures bright; It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight. As when the setting sun has given Ten thousand hues to summer even, 46r 468 THE LADY OF THF LAKE. And, from their tissue, fancy frames Aerial knights and fairy dames. Still by Fitz-Janies her footing staid, A few faint steps she forward made, Then slow her drooping head she raiseci, And fearful round the presence gazed : For him she sought, who owned this state, The dreaded prince whose will was fate. She gazed on many a princely port, Might well have ruled a royal court; On many a splendid garb she gazed — Then turned bewildered and amazed, For all stood bare; and, in the room, Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. To him each lady's look was lent. On him each courtier's eye was bent ; Midst furs, and silks, and jewels sheen, He stood, in simple Lincoln green. The centre of the glittering ring — And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's Kinjf! As wreatn 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 showed the ring — she clasped her handa Oh ! not a moment could he brook, The generous prince, that suppliant look! Gently he raised her — and the while Checked with a glance the circle's smile. Graceful, but grave, her brow he kissed, And bade her;, terrors be dismissed — THE LADY OF THE LAKE 469 * Yes, Fair; the wandering poor Fitz-Jarc.e« The fealty of Scotland claims. To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring He will redeem his signet-ring. Ask naught for Douglas — yester *?ven His prince and he have much forgiven. Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongTi«i I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. 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 stanched thy father's death-feud stern. With stout De Vaux and gray Glencaira And Bothwell's Lord henceforth we own The friend and bulwark of our Throne. But, lovely infidel, how now ? What clouds thy misbelieving brow? Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid Thou must confirm this doubting maid." 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; He stepped between — " Nay, Douglas, nA% Steal not my proselyte away I The riddle 'tis my nght to read. That ])rought this happy chance to spe«d 40 I7C THE I-ADV Ol THE LAKE., Yes, Ellen, when disgaiscd I stray, In life'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-Jamea, Thus watch I o'er insulted laws, Thus learn to right the injured cause." Then, in a tone apart and low, — "Ah, little trait'ress! none must know What idle dream, what lighter thought, What vanity full dearly bought, Joined to thme eye's dark witchcraft, drew My spell-bound steps to Ben-venue, In dangerous hour, and all but gave Thy Monarch's life to mountain glaive ! " Aloud he spoke — " Thou still dost hold That little talisman of gold, Pledge of my faith, Fitz-Jaines's ring — What seeks fair Ellen of the King?" Full well the conscious maiden guessed, He probed the weakness of her breast; But, with that consciousness, there camj A lightening of her fears for Graeme, And more she deemed the Monarch's lie Kindled 'gainst him, who, for her sire, Rebellious 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 THK LADY OF THE LAKE. 47i My fairest earldom would 1 give To bid Clan- Alpine's Chieftain live! Hast thou no other boon to crave' — No other captive friend to save?" Blushing, she turned her from the King^ And to tlie Douglas gave the ring, As if she wished her sire to speak The suit that stained her glowing cheek. "Nay, then, rny pledge has lost its force, And stubborn justice holds her course. "Malcolm, come forth!" — And, at tne ^ord. Down kneeled the Graeme to Scotland's Lord "For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, 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 outlawed man. Dishonoring thus thy loyal name — Fetters and warder for the Grseme!" His chain of gold the King unstrung, The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung Then gently drew the glittering band, And la«l the clasp on Ellen's hand. Harp of the North, farewell The hills grow dar», On purple peaks a deeper shade descending; In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark, The doer, half-seen, are to the covert wending. Resume thy wizard elm ! the fountain lending, And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy -, Thy n-imbers sweet with Nature's vespers Meuding 47t^ THE I.ADY OF THE LAKK. With distant echo from the fold and lea, Andlierd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing Imm Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp . Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, And little reck I of the censure sharp Mav idly cavil at an idle lay. Much have I owed thy strains on life's long ^»y Through secret woes the world has never known, When on the weary night dawned wearier day. And bitterer was the grief devoured alone. That I o'erlive such woes, Enchantress ! is thine own Hark! aa my lingering footsteps slow retire, 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 Receding now, the dying numbers ring Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell, And now the mountain-breezes scarcely bnng A wan lering witch-note of the distant spell — And now, 'tis silent all! — Enchantress. fare-thee-waL rilE VISION OF DON RODERICK, INTRODUCTION. Lives there a strain, whose sounds of mounting fire May rise distinguished o'er the din of war,. Or died it with yon master of the lyre, Who Bung beleaguered Ilion's evil star? Such, Wellington, might reach thee from afar, Wafting its descant wide o'er Ocean's range ; Nor shouts, nor clashing arms, its mood could mar All as it swelled 'twixt each loud trumpet-change, That clang to Britain victory, to Portugal revenge ! II Yes ! sucn a strain, with all-o'erpowering measure, Might melodize with each tumultuous sound, Each voice of fear or triumph, wo or pleasure. That rings Mondego's ravaged shores around ; The thundering cry of hosts with conquest cro\vned The female shriek, the ruined peasants moan, The shout of captives from their chains unbound, The foL.ed oppressor's deep and sullen groan, A natior's choral hynm for tyranny o'erthrown. 40* 476 INTRODUCTION III. But we weak minstrels of a laggard day, Skilled but to imitate an elder page, Timid and raptureless, can we repay The debt thou claim'st in this exhausted age ? Thou giv'st our lyres a theme, that might engage Those that could send thy name o'er sea and lend, While sea and land shall last ; for Homer's rage A tJieme ; a theme for Milton's mighty hand — How much unmeet for us, a faint degenerate band ! IV. Ye mountains stern ! within whoae rugged breast The friends of Scottish freedom found repose ; Ye torrents ! whose hoarse sounds have soothed thiOil rest, Returning from the field of vanquished foes- Say, have ye lost each wild majestic close, That erst the choir of bards or druids flung. What time their hymn of victory arose, And Cattraeth's glens with voice of triumph rung, And mystic Merlin harped, and gray-haired Llywardb sung. v. O ! if your wilds such minstrelsy retain, As sure your changeful gales seem oft to say, When sweeping wild and sinking soft again, Like trumpet-jubilee, or harp's wild sway , If ye can echo such triumphant lay, Then lend the note to him has loved you long, Who pious gathered each tradition gi'ay. That floats your solitary wastes along, And with affection vain gave them new roice m song: INTRODUCTION. 47? VI. Foi not till now, how soft; soe'er the task Of truant verse hath lightened graver care. From muse or sylvan was he wont to ask, In phrase poetic, inspiration fair ; Careless he gave his numbers to the air, — They came unsought for, if applauses came Nor for himself prefers he now the prayer : Let but his verse befit a hero's fame, mmortal be the verse ! — forgot the poet's name. VII. * Hark, from yon misty cairn their answer tossed " Minstrel ! the fame of whose romantic lyre. Capricious swelling now, may soon be lost, Like the light flickering of a cottage fire : If to such task presumptuous thou aspire, Seek not from us the meed to warrior due ; Age aft:er age has gathered son to sire. Since our gray cliffs the din of conflict knew. Or, pealing through our vales, victorious bugles bleu VIIl. " Decayed our old traditionary lore, Save where the lingering fays renew their ring; By milkmaid seen beneath the hawthorn hoar. Or round the marge of Minchmore's haunted spring Save where their legends gray-haired shepherds sing That now scarce win a listening ear but thme Of feuds obscure, and border ravaging, And rugged deeds recount in rugged line. Of moonlight foray made on Teviot, Tweed, or Tyne, 478 INTRODUCTIOJl IX •* No ! search romantic lands, where the near Sue Gives with unstinted boon ethereal flame, Where the rude villajsrer, his labor done. In vers J spontaneous chants some favored nawe ' Whether Olalia's charms his tribute claim, Her eye of diamond, and her locks of jet ; Or whether, kindling at the deeds of Grseme. He sing, to wild Morisco measure set. Old Al bin's red claymore, green Erin's bayonet i " Explore those regions, where the flinty crest Of wild Nevada ever gleams with snows, Where in the proud Alhambra's rui"^ed breast Barbaric monuments of pomp repose , Or where the banners of more ruthless foes Than the fierce Moor, float o'er Toledo's fane, From whose tall towers even now the patriot throwi An anxious glance, to spy upon the plain 'he blended ranks of England, Portugal, and Spain ' " There, of Numantian fire a swarthy spark i Still lightens in tlie sun-burnt native's eye ; I . The stately port, slow step, and visage dark, Still mark induring pride and constancy ; j And, if tlie glow of feudal chivalry i Beam not, as once, thy nobles' dearest pride, Iberia ! oft thy crestless peasantry Have seen the plumed Hidalgo quit their side, If ave seen, yet dauntless stood — 'gainst fortune fongh and died. nrrRODUCTi w. 471 XII. * Anc chtyished still by that unchanging race, Are themes for minstrelsy more high than thine : Of strange tradition many a mystic trace, Legend and vision, prophecy and sign ; Where wonders wild of arabesque combine With Gothic imagery of darker shade, Forming a model meet for minstrel line. Go, seek such theme ! " — The Mountain Spirit said IVith filial awe I heard — I heard^ and I obeyed. TUE VISION OF DON RODERIJK Rearing their crests amid the cloudless skies And darkly clustering in the pale moonlight, Toledo's holy towers and spires arise, As from a trembling lake of silver white ; Their mingled shadows intercept the sight Of tne broad burial-ground outstretched below, And naught disturbs the silence of the night ; All sleeps in sullen shade or silver glow, A.l save the heavy swell of Teio's ceaseless flow. All save the rushmg swell of Teios tide, Or, distant heard, a courser's neigh or tramp ; Their changing rounds as watchful horsemen ride, To guard the limits of King Roderick's camp. For, through the river's night-fog rolling damp, Was many a proud pavilion dimly seen, Which glimmered back, against the moon's fair lamp, Tissues of silk and silver twisted sheen. And standards pro- dly pitched, and warders armed between. THE VISION OF DON RODERICK. Ill 48i But, of their Monarch's person keeping ward, Since last the deep-mouthed be.l of vespers ttlle^. Tiie chosen soldiers cf the royal guard Their post beneath the proud Cathedral hold : A Sana unlike their Gothic sires of old, Who, for the cap of steel and iron mace, Bear slender darts, and casques bedecked with go i While silver-studded belts their shoulders grace, Where ivory quivers ring in the broad falchion's pla* i IV. In the light language of an idle court, rhey murmured at their master's long delay, And held his lengthened orisons in sport : " What ! will Don Roderick here till morning stay. To wear in shrift and prayer the night away ? And are his hours in such dull penance past, for fair Florinda's plundered charms to pay ? " Then to the east their weary eyes they cast, Ind wished the lingering dawn would glimmer fort at last V. But, far within, Toledo's Prelate lent An ear of fearful wonder to the King •, The silver lamp a fitful lustre sent. So long that sad confession witnessing: For Roderick told of many a hidden thing. Such as are lothly uti,ered to the air. When Fear, Reraorso, and Shame, the bosom wring. And Guilt his secret burthen camiot hest. And Conscience seeks i-\ ^i^c^.}^ a vePn'M f'-orr Despali iS2 THE VISION OF DOiV RODERICi;. VI. Full on the Prelate^s face, and silver hair The 'stream Df failing light was feebly ro ed , TiUt Roderick's visage, though his head wjs bare Was shadowed by his hand and mantle's fold While of his hidden soul the sins he told. Proud Alaric's descendant could not brook, That mortal man his bearing should behold, Or boast that he had seen, when conscience shook, Fear tame a monarch's brow, Remorse a warrior s loo\ vn. The old man's faded cheek waxed yet more pale. As many a secret sad the king bewrayed ; And sign and glance eked out the unfinished tale When in the midst his faltering whisper staid. " Thus royal Witiza was slain," — he said ; " Yet, holy father, deem not it was I." — Thus still Ambition strives her crimes to shade— " O rather deem 'twas stern necessity ! Belf-preservation bade, apd I must kill or die. Vlli. ** And, if Florinda's shrieks alanned the air. If she invoked her absent sire in vain, \nd on her knees implored that I would spare, '/et, reverend priest, thy sentence rash refrain ! — All is not as it seems — the female train ^ Know by their bearing to disguise their mood : " But Conscience here, as if in high disdain, Sent to the Monarch's cheek tlie burning blood — He stayed his speech abrujr t — and up the Prelate stood THE VISION CF DO."f I ODER CB. 483 IX. * ** O hardened offspring of an iron race ! What of thy crimes, Don Roderick, shall I say ? What alms, or prayers, or penance can efface Murder's dark spot, wash treason's stain away ! For the foul ravisher how shall I pray, Who, scarce repentant, makes his crime his boaat ? How hope Ahnighty vengeance shall dela)* Unless, in mercy to yon Christian host, tie spare the shepherd, lest the guileless sheep be losi/ — X. Then kindled the dark tyrant in his mood. And to his brow returned its dauntless gloom ; " And welcome then," he cried, " be blood for blot d •For treason treachery, for dishonor doom ! Yet will I knov7 whence come they, or by whom. Show, for thou canst — give forth the fated key, And guide me. Priest, to that mysterious room, Wliere, if aught true in old tradition be. His nation's future fates a Spanish King shall see XI. •' Ill-fated Prince ! recall the desperate word. Or pause ere yet the omen thou obey ! Bethink, yon spell-bound portal would afSjid Never to former Monarch entrance-way ; Nor shall it ever ope, old records say, Save to a King, the last of all his line, What time his empire totters to decay, And treason digs, beneath, her fatal mine, And, high above, impends aven-'lng wrath divine 41 n 484 THE VISION OF DON RODERICK. • xn. — Pre.ate [ a Monarch's fate brooks no delay Lead on ! " — The ponderous key the old man to( &, And held the winking lamp, and led the way By winding stair, dark aisle, and secret nook, Then on an ancient gateway bent his kwk ; And, as the key the desperate King essayed, Low muttered tliunders the Cathedral shook, And twice he stopped, and twice new effort made, I ill the huge bolts rolled back, and the loud hingea brayed. XIII. Long, large, and lofty, was that vaulted hall •, Roof, walls, and floor, were all of marble stone. Of polished marble, black as funeral pall, Carved o'er with signs and characters unknown. A paly light as of the dawning, shone [spy Through the sad bounds, but whence they could nol For window to the upper air was none ; Yet, by that light, Don Roderick could descry Wonders that ne'er till then were seen by mortal eye. XIV. Grim sentinels, against the upper wall, I Of molten bronze, two Statues held their place Massive their naked li[nbs,4heir stature tail. Their frowning foreheads golden circles grace. Moulded they seemed foi kings of giant race, That lived and sinned before the avenging flood This grasped a scythe, that rested on a mace ; This spread his wings for flight, that pondering stood Cach stubborn seemed and stern, immutable of mood. (> THE VISION OF DON ROI/ERICK. iftft XV. * Fixed was the right-hand Giant's brazen lrx)k Upon nis Drother's glass cf shifting sand, As if its ebb he measured by a book, Whose iron volume loaded his huge hand ; In which was wrote of many a failing land, Of empires lost, and kings to exile driven And o'er that pair their names in scroll expand — " Lo, Destiny and Time ! to whom by Heaven Vhe guidance of the earth is for a season given." — XVI. liven while they read, the sand-glass wastes away ; And, as the last and lagging grains did creep, That right-hand Giant did his club upsway, As one that startles from a heavy sleep. Fu-1 on the upper wall the mace's sweep At once descended with the force of thunder, And, hurling down at once, in crumbled heap, The marble boundary was rent asunder, *nd gave to Roderick's view new sights of fear and wonder. XVII. For they might spy, beyond that mighty breach, Realms as of Spain in visioned prospect laid, Castles and towers, in due proportion each, As by some skillful artist's hand portrayed ; Here, crossed by many a wild Sierra's shade, And boundless plains that tire the traveller's eye , There, rich with vineyard and with olive-glade, Or deep-dmbrownod by forests huge and high, br washed by mighty streams, that slowly murmured bj 486 THE VISION OF DON RODERICK. XVIII, And here, us erst upon the antique stagt?, Passed forth the bands of maskers trimly led, In various forms, and various equipage, While fitting strains the hearer's fancy fed ; So, to sad Roderick's eye in order spread, Successive pageants filled lat mystic scene, Sliowing the fate of battles ere they bled, And issue of events that had not been ; And ever and anon strange sounds were heard bet wjwn XIX. First shrilled an unrepeated female shriek ! — It seemed as if Don Roderick knew tlie call, For tlic bold blood was blanching in his cheek. - Then answered kettle-drum and atabal, Gong-peal and cymbal-clank the ear appal, The Tecbir war-cry, and the Lelies yell, Ring wildly dissonant along the hall. Need not to Roderick their dread import tell — ■*The Moor!" he cried, "the Moor! — ring out the tocsin bell ! XX. " They come ! they come ! I see the groaning land* White with the turbans o£j.each Arab horde, Swart Zaarah joins her misbelieving bands. Alia and Mahomet their battle-wora, The choice they yield the Koran or the sworu — See how the Christians rush to arms amain ! — In yonder shout the voice of conflict roared ; The shadowy hosts are closing on the plain — Now, God and St. lago strike, for the good cause of Spain ! I THE VISION OF DOx\ RODERICK. 48? XXI "By heaven, the Moors prevail ! the Christ ans jield Their coward leader gives for flight the sign ! Tlie sceptred craven mounts to quit the field — Is not yon steed Orelia ? — Yes, 'tis mine ! But never was she turned from battle-line ; — Lo ! where the recreant spurs o'er stock and stone ' Curses pursue the slave and wrath divine ! Rivers engulf him!" — "Hush," in shuddering tone, The Prelate said; "rash Prince, yon visioned form'i thine own." — XXII. Just then, a torrent crossed the flier's course ; The dangerous ford the Kingly Likeness tried ; But the deep eddies whelmed both man and horse. Swept like benighted peasant down the tide ; And the proud Moslemah spread far and wide, As numerous as their native locust band ; Berber and Ismael's sons the spoils divide, With naked scimetars mete out the land. And for their bondsmen base the free-born natlv«« brand. XXIII. Then rose the grated Harem, to enclose The loveliest maidens of the Christian line ; Then, menials to their misbelieving foes, Castile's young nobles held forbidden wine ; Then, too, the holy Cross, salvation's sign. By impious hands was from the altar thrown, And the deep aisles of the polluted shniie St'.hoed, for holy hymn and organ tone, The Santons frantic dance, the Fakir's gibbering moan. Fa^t started to his gun each fiery Miquelet XLVII. » But unappalled, and burning for the fight, The Invaders march, of victory secure ; Skillful their force to sever or unite. And trained alike to vanquish or endure. Nor skillful less, cheap conquest to ensure. Discord to breathe, and jealousy to sow. To quell by boasting, and by bribes to lure ,* While naught against them bring the unpracticed foq Save hearts for freedom's cause, and bands for free- don's blow. 42 196 THt VISION OF DOiN RODERICK. XLVIII. Proudly they marc; — but O ! they march not forth By one liot field to crown a brief campaign, As v.^hen their eagles, sweeping through the North. Destroyed at every stoop an ancient reign ! Far other fate had heaven decreed for Spain • In vain the steel, in vain the torch was plied, Now Patriot armies started from the slain, High blazed the war, and long, and far and wide, Ard oft the God of Battles blessed the righteous si