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The murky cavern's heavy air So well was match'd the tartan screen Shall breathe of balm if thou hast | With heath-bell dark and brackens smiled;
green; Then, Maiden! heara maiden's prayer; Unless where, here and there, a blade, Mother, list a suppliant child ! Or lance's point, a glimmer made,
Ave Maria! | Like glow-worm twinkling through
the shade. Ave Maria ! stainless styled!
But when, advancing through the Foul demons of the earth and air,
gloom, From this their wonted haunt exiled, They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume,
Shall flee before thy presence fair. Their shout ofwelcome, shrillandwide, We bow us to our lot of care,
Shook the steep mountain'ssteady side. Bencath thy guidance reconciled; Thrice it arose, and lake and fell Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer, Three times return'd the martial yell ; And for a father hear a child ! It died upon Bochastle's plain,
Ave Maria !' And Silence claim'd her evening reign.
Died on the harp the closing hymn.
• Tue rose is fairest when 'tis budding 'It is the last time, 'tis the last,' He mutter'd thrice,—the last time e'er
And hope is brightest when it dawns That angel voice shall Roderick hear!',
from fears; It was a goading thought-his stride
The rose is sweetest wash'd with Hied hastier down the mountain-side ;
morning dew, Sullen he flung him in the boat,
And love is loveliest when embalmi And instant 'cross the lake it shot.
in tears. They landed in that silvery bay, O wilding rose, whom fancy thus enAnd eastward held their hasty way,
dears, Till, with the latest bcams of light,
I bid your blossoms in my bonnet The band arrived on Lanrick height,
Wave, Where muster'd, in the vale below,
Emblem of hope and love through Clan-Alpine's men in martial show.
Thus spoke young Norman, heir of XXXI.
Armandave, A various scene the clansinen made; What time the sun arose on VennaSome sate, some stood, some slowly char's broad wave.
stray'd; But most, with mantles folded round, Were couch'd to rest upon the ground, Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, Scarce to be known by curious eye, | Love prompted to the bridegroom's From the deep heather where they lie, i tongue,
All while he stripp'd the wild-rose Unfit for arms; and given his charge, spray,
Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge, His axe and bow beside him lay, Upon these lakes shall float at large, For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood, But all beside the islet moor, A wakeful sentinel he stood.
That such dearpledge may rest secure ?' Hark! on the rock a footstep rung, And instant to his arms he sprung. * Stand, or thou diest !-What, Malise ? "'Tis well advised; the Chieftain's plan soon
Bespeaks the father of his clan. Art thou return'd from Braes of Doune. But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu By thy keen step and glance I know, Apart from all his followers true ?' Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe.' • It is, because last evening-tide (For while the Fiery Cross hied on, Brian an augury hath tried, On distant scout had Malise gone.) Of that dread kind which must not be •Where sleeps the Chief?' the hench- Unless in dread extremity, man said.
The Taghairm call'd; by which, afar, * Apart, in yonder misty glade; Our sires foresaw the events of war. To his lone couch I'll be your guide;' Duncraggan's milk-white bull they Then call'd a slumberer by his side,
slew'And stirr'd him with his slacken'd
MALISE. bowUp, up, Glentarkin! rouse thee, ho: The choicest of the prey we had,
• Ah! well the gallant brute I knew! We seek the Chieftain ; on the track, When sweptourmerry-men Gallangad. Keep eagle watch till I come back.'
His hide was snow, his horns were dark,
So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, Together up the pass they sped:
Sore did he cumber our retreat, What of the foemen?' Norman said.
And kept our stoutest kernes in awe, • Varying reports from near and far;
Even at the pass of Beal ’maha. This certain, that a band of war
But steep and flinty was the road, Has for two days been ready boune,
And sharp the hurrying pikemen's At prompt command, to march from
And when we came to Dennan's Row, King James the while, with princely A child might scatheless stroke his powers,
Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. To the lone isle hath caused repair Couch'd on a shelve beneath its brink, Each maid and matron of the clan, Close where the thundering torrents And every child and aged man
Rocking beneath their headlong sway, Is gifted beyond nature's law,
Had e'er survived to say he saw'. Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream, At length the fateful answer came, The wizard waits prophetic dream. In characters of living flame! Nordistant rests the Chief;—but hush! Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll, See, gliding slow through mist and But borne and branded on my soulbush,
WHICH SPILLS THE FOREMOST FOEMAN'S The hermit gains yon rock, and stands LIFE, To gaze upon our slumbering bands. THAT PARTY CONQUERS IN THE STRIFE!' Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost, That hovers o'er a slaughter'd host ? Or raven on the blasted oak,
Thanks, Brian, for thy zcal and care! That, watching while the deeris broke; Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood,
Good is thinc augury, and fair. His morsel claims with sullen croak ?'
But first our broadswords tasted blood. MALISE.
A surer victim still I know, Peace! peace! to other than to me, Self-offer'd to the auspicious blow': Thy words were evil augury;
A spy has sought my land this morn,But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade No eve shall witness his return! Clan-Alpine's omen and her aid, My followers guard each pass's mouth, Not aught that, glean'd from heaven or To cast, to westward, and to south; hell,
Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide, Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell. Has charge to lead his steps aside, The Chieftain joins him, see; and now, ! Till, in deep path or dingle brown, Together they descend the brow.' He light on thoseshall bring him down.
-But see who comes his newsto show! And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord
Malise! what tidings of the foc?' The Hermit Monk held solemn word: *Roderick! it is a fearful strife, * At Doune, o'ermany aspearandglaive For man endow'd with mortal life, Two Barons proud their banners wave. Whose shroud of sentient clay can still I saw the Moray's silver star, Feel feverish pang and fainting chill, And mark'd the sable pale of Mar.' Whose eye can stare in stony trance, By Alpine's soul, high tidings those! Whose hair can rouse like warrior's I love to hear of worthy foes. lance,
When move they on?' • To-morrow's 'Tis hard for such to view unfurl'd
noon The curtain of the future world. Will see them here for battle boune.' Yet-witness every quaking limb, Then shall it see a meeting stern! My sunken pulse, my eyeballs dim, But, for the place-say, couldst thou My soul with harrowing anguish
Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? This for my Chieftain have I borne ! Strengthen’d by them, we well might The shapes that sought my fearful
The battle on Benledi's side. An human tongue may ne'er avouch ; Thou couldst not? Well! Clan-Alpine's No mortal man, save he who, bred Between the living and the dead, Shall man the Trosachs' shaggy glen;
Within Loch Katrine's gorge we 'll
My wakeful terrors could not blind. Lover for maid beloved !—But why- When in such tender tone, yet grave, Is it the breeze affects mine eye ?
Douglas a parting blessing gaye, Or dost thou come, ill-omen'd tear!
The tear that glisten'd in his eye A messenger of doubt or fear ? Drown'dnothis purpose fix’dand high. No! sooner may the Saxon lance My soul, though feminine and weak, Unfix Benledi from his stance,
Can image his; e'en as the lake, Than doubtorterror can pierce through Itself disturb’d by slightest stroke, Theunyielding heart of Roderick Dhu!
Reflects the invulnerable rock. 'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe.
He hears report of battle rife, Each to his post-all knowtheir charge.'
He deems himself the cause of strife. The pibroch sounds, the bands advance,
I saw him redden, when the theme The broadswords gleam, the banners
Turn'd, Allan, on thine idle dream dance,
Of Malcolm Græme in fetters bound, Obedient to the Chieftain's glance.
Which I, thou saidst, about him wound. turn me fro the martial roar,
Think'st thou he trow'd thine omen And seek Coir-Uriskin once more.
aught? Oh no! 'twas apprehensive thought For the kind youth,-for Roderick
tooWhere is the Douglas ?-he is gone;
(Let me be just) that friend so true; And Ellen sits on the grey stone Fast by the cave, and makes hermoan;
In danger both, and in our cause !
Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. While vainly Allan's words of cheer
Why else that solemn warning given, Are pour'd on her unheeding ear: • He will return-dear lady, trust!
“ If not on earth, we meet in heaven!” With joy return; he will, he must.
Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane,
If eve return him not again,
Am I to hie, and make me known? When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged
Alas! he goes to Scotland's throne,
Buys his friend's safety with his own; swarm Are cow'd by the approaching storm.
He goes to do-what I had done, I saw their boats with many a light
Had Douglas' daughter been his son!' Floating the live-long yesternight, Shifting like flashes darted forth By the red streamers of the north ; I mark'd at morn how close they ride, Nay, lovely Ellen !-dearest, nay! Thick moor'd by the lone islet's side, | If aught should his return delay, Like wild-ducks couching in the fen, He only named yon holy fane When stoops the hawk upon the glen. As fitting place to meet again. Since this rude race dare not abide Besure he's safe; and for the Græme,The peril on the mainland side, Heaven's blessing on his gallant name! Shall not thy noble father's care My vision'd sight may yet prove true, Some safe retreat for thee prepare?' | Nor bode of ill to him or you.
When did my gifted dream beguile ? O Richard ! if my brother died,
'Twas but a fatal chance;
• If pall and vair no more I wear, Would we had left this dismal spot !
Nor thou the crimson sheen, Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot.
As warm, we'll say, is the russet grey, Of such a wondrous tale I know
As gay the forest-green. Dear lady, change that look of woe,
And, Richard, if our lot be hard, My harp was wont thy grief to cheer.'
And lost thy native land,
And he his Alice Brand.'
'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good green
wood, So blithe Lady Alice is singing; On the beech's pride, and oak's brown
Lord Richard's axe is ringing.
Up spoke the moody Elfin King,
Who won'd within the hill; When the deer sweeps by, and the Like wind in the porch of a ruin'd hounds are in cry,
church, And the hunter's horn is ringing. His voice was ghostly shrill. 'O Alice Brand, my native land Is lost for love of you ;
Why sounds yon stroke on beech
and oak, And we must hold by wood and wold, As outlaws wont to do.
Our moonlight circle's screen ?
Or who comes here to chase the deer, 'O Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so
Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? bright,
Or who may dare on wold to wear And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, The fairies' fatal green? That on the night ofour luckless flight Thy brother bold I slew.
*Up, Urgan, up! to yon mortal hie,
For thou wert christen'd man;
For cross or sign thou wilt not fly,
For mutter'd word or ban.
'Lay on him the curse of the wither'd * And for vest of pall, thy fingers small, heart, That wont on harp to stray,
The curse of the sleepless eye; A cloak must shearfrom the slaughter'd Till he wish and pray that his life would deer,
part, To keep the cold away.'
Nor yet find leave to die.'