'Who is this maid? what means her lay?
She hovers o'er the hollow way,
And flutters wide her mantle grey,
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 foray'd Devan-side.
The gay bridegroom resistance made,
And feltour Chief's unconquer'd 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 blow,
I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far
As ever peasant pitch'd a bar!'
'Thanks, champion, thanks!' the
maniac cried,
And press'd her to Fitz-James's side;
'See the grey pennons I prepare
To seck my true-love through the air!
I will not lend that savage groom,
To break his fall, one downy plume!
No! deep amid disjointed stones,
The wolves shall batten on his bones,
And then shall his detested plaid,
By bush and brier in mid-air staid,
Wave forth a banner fair and free,
Meet signal for their revelry.'
'Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still!' 'O! thou look'st kindly, and I will. Mine eye has dried and wasted been, But still it loves the Lincoln green; And, though mine car is all unstrung, Still, still it loves the Lowland tongue.
'For O my sweet William was
He stole poor Blanche's heart away!
His coat it was all of the greenwood
huc,
And so blithely he trill'd the
Lowland lay!
It was not that I meant to tell. . .
But thou art wise and guessest well,'
Then, in a low and broken tone,
And hurried note, the song went on.
Still on the Clansman, fearfully,
She fix'd her apprehensive eye;
Then turn'd it on the Knight, and then
Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen.
'The toils are pitch'd, and the stakes are set,
Ever sing merrily, merrily; The bows they bend, and the knives they whet,
Hunters live so cheerily.
'It was a stag, a stag of ten,
Bearing its branches sturdily; He came stately down the glen, Ever sing hardily, hardily.
'It was there he met with a wounded doc,
She was bleeding deathfully; She warn'd him of the toils below,
O, so faithfully, faithfully!
'He had an eye, and he could heed,
Ever sing warily, warily;
He had a foot, and he could speed –
Hunters watch so narrowly.'
Fitz-James's mind was passion-toss'd,
When Ellen's hints and fears were lost;
But Murdoch's shout suspicion
wrought,
And Blanche's song conviction brought.
Not like a stag that spies the snare,
But lion of the hunt aware,
He waved at once his blade on high,
Disclose thy treachery, or die!'
Forth at full speed the Clansman flew,
But in his race his bow he drew.
The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest,
And thrill'd in Blanche's faded breast!
Murdoch of Alpine! prove thy speed,
For ne'er had Alpine's son such need!
With heart of fire, and foot of wind,
The fierce avenger is behind!
Fate judges of the rapid strife-
The forfeit death-the prize is life!
Thy kindred ambush lies before,
Close couch'd upon the heathery moor;
Them couldst thou reach-it may
not be--
Thine ambush'dkin thou ne'er shalt see,
The fiery Saxon gains on thee!
-Resistless speeds the deadly thrust,
As lightning strikes the pine to dust;
With foot and hand Fitz-James must
strain,
Ere he can win his blade again.
Bent o'er the fall'n, with falcon eye,
He grimly smiled to see him die;
Then slower wended back his way,
Where the poor maiden bleeding lay.
She sate beneath the birchen-tree,
Her elbow resting on her knee;
She had withdrawn the fatal shaft,
And gazed on it, and feebly laugh'd;
Her wreath of broom and feathers grey,
Daggled with blood, beside her lay.
The Knight to stanch the life-stream
'Stranger, it is in vain!' she cried.
This hour of death has given me more
Of reason's power than years before;
For, as these ebbing veins decay,
My frenzied visions fade away.
A helpless injured wretch I die,
And something tells me in thine eye,
That thou wert mine avenger born.--|
It once was bright and clear as thine,
But blood and tears have dimm'd its
shine.
I will not tell thee when 'twas shred,
Nor from what guiltless victim's head—
My brain would turn!-but it shall
Like plumage on thy helmet brave,
Till sun and wind shall bleach the
stain,
And thou wilt bring it me again.-
I waver still. O God! more bright
Let reason beam her parting light!
O! by thy knighthood's honour'd sign,
And for thy life preserved by mine,
When thou shalt see a darksome man,
Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's
Clan,
With tartans broad, and shadowy
plume,
And hand of blood, and brow of gloom,
Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong,
And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's
wrong!
They watch for thee by pass and
fell...
Avoid the path ... O God! ... farewell.'
A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James;
Fast pour'd his eyes at pity's claims;
And now, with mingled grief and ire,
He saw the murder'd maid expire.
'God, in my need, be my relief,
As I wreak this on yonder Chief!'
A lock from Blanche's tresses fair
Heblended with her bridegroom's hair;
The mingled braid in blood he dyed,
And placed it on his bonnet-side :
'By Him whose word is truth! I swear,
No other favour will I wear,
Till this sad token I imbrue
Seest thou this tress?-O! still I've In the best blood of Roderick Dhu!
This little tress of yellow hair,
Through danger, frenzy, and despair!
But hark! what means yon faint halloo?
The chase is up; but they shall know,
¦ The stag at bay's a dangerous foe.'
The shades of eve come slowly down,
The woods are wrapt in deeper brown,
The owl awakens from her dell,
The fox is heard upon the fell;
Enough remains of glimmering light
To guide the wanderer's steps aright,
Yet not enough from far to show
His figure to the watchful foc.
With cautious step, and car awake,
He climbs the crag and threads the
brake;
And not the summer solstice, there,
Temper'd the midnight mountain air,
But every breeze, that swept the wold,
Benumb'd his drenched limbs with
cold.
In dread, in danger, and alone, Famish'd and chill'd, through ways unknown,
Tangled and steep, he journey'd on; Till, as a rock's huge point he turn'd, A watch-fire close before him burn'd.
Beside its embers red and clear, Bask'd in his plaid a mountaineer; And up hesprung with sword in hand,— 'Thy name and purpose! Saxon, stand!'
'A stranger.' 'What dost thou require?'
My life's beset, my path is lost, 'Rest and a guide, and food and fire. The gale has chill'd my limbs with frost.' 'Art thou a friend to Roderick?' 'Thou darest not call thyself a foe?' 'I dare! to him and all the band He brings to aid his murderous hand.' 6 'Bold words! but, though the beast of game
The privilege of chase may claim, Though space and law the stag we lend, Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, Whoeverreck'd, where, how, or when, The prowling fox was trapp'd or slain? Thus treacherous scouts,-yet sure they lie
Who say thou cam'st a secret spy!'
They do, by heaven! Come Roderick
Dhu,
And of his clan the boldest two,
And let me but till morning rest,
I write the falsehood on their crest.'
If by the blaze I mark aright,
Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight.'
Then by these tokens mayest thou know
Each proud oppressor's mortal foc.'
A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare.'
Enough, enough; sit down and share
He gave him of his Highland cheer,
The harden'd flesh of mountain deer;
Dry fuel on the fire he laid,
And bade the Saxon share his plaid.
He tended him like welcome guest,
Then thus his farther speech address'd:
'Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu
A clansman born, a kinsman true;
Each word against his honour spoke,
Demands of me avenging stroke;
Yet more,-upon thy fate, 'tis said,
A mighty augury is laid.
It rests with me to wind my horn,—
Thou art with numbers overborne ;
It rests with me, here, brand to brand,
Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand:
But, not for clan, nor kindred's cause,
Will I depart from honour's laws;
To assail a wearied man were shame,
And stranger is a holy name;
Guidance and rest, and food and fire,
In vain he never must require.
Then rest thee here till dawn of day;
Myself will guide thee on the way,
O'er stock and stone, through watch
And lights the fearful path on mountain side,
Fair as that beam, although the fairest far,
Giving to horror grace, to danger pride,
Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star,
Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow of War.
That early beam, so fair and sheen, Was twinkling through the hazel
When, rousing at its glimmer red, The warriors left their lowly bed, Look'd out upon the dappled sky, Mutter'd their soldier matins by, And then awaked their fire, to steal,
Till past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard, As short and rude, their soldier meal.
As far as Coilantogle's ford;
From thence thy warrant is thy sword.'
'I take thy courtesy, by heaven,
As freely as 'tis nobly given!'
'Well, rest thee; for the bittern's cry
Sings us the lake's wild lullaby.'
With that he shook the gather'd heath,
And spread his plaid upon the wreath;
And the brave foemen, side by side,
Lay peaceful down, like brothers tried,
And slept until the dawning beam
Purpled the mountain and the stream.
FAIR as the earliest beam of eastern light,
When first, by the bewilder'd pilgrim spied,
It smiles upon the dreary brow of night, And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide,
That o'er, the Gael around him threw
His graceful plaid of varied hue,
And, true to promise, led the way,
By thicket green and mountain grey.
A wildering path! they winded now
Along the precipice's brow,
Commanding the rich scenes beneath,
The windings of the Forth and Teith,
And all the vales beneath that lie,
Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky;
Then, sunk in copse, their farthest
glance
Gain'd not the length of horseman's lance.
'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain Assistance from the hand to gain; So tangled oft, that, bursting through, Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew,
That diamond dew, so pure and clear, It rivals all but Beauty's tear.'
At length they came where, stern and
steep, The hill sinks down upon the deep.
Here Vennachar in silver flows,
There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose;
Ever the hollow path twined on,
Beneath steep bank and threatening
stone;
An hundred men might hold the post
With hardihood against a host.
The rugged mountain's scanty cloak
Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak,
With shingles bare, and cliffs between,
And patches bright of bracken green,
And heather black, that waved so high,
It held the copse in rivalry.
But where the lake slept deep and still,
Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill;
And oft both path and hill were torn,
Where wintry torrents down had
borne,
And heap'd upon the cumber'd land
Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand.
So toilsome was the road to trace,
The guide, abating of his pace,
Led slowly through the pass's jaws,
And ask'd Fitz-James, by what strange
Moves our free course by such fix'd
As gives the poor mechanic laws?
Enough, I sought to drive away
The lazy hours of peaceful day;
Slight cause will then suffice to guide
A Knight's free footsteps far and
wide,-
A falcon flown, a greyhound stray'd,
The merry glance of mountain maid:
Or, if a path be dangerous known,
The danger's self is lure alone.'
Yet, ere again ye sought this spot, Thy secret keep, I urge thee not; Say, heard ye nought of Lowland war, Against Clan-Alpine, raised by Mar?' 'No, by my word;-of bands prepared To guard King James's sports I heard ; Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear This muster of the mountaineer, Their pennons will abroad be flung, Which else in Doune had peaceful hung.'
Their silken folds should feast the moth. 'Free be they flung! for we were loth Free be they flung! as free shall wave Clan-Alpine's pine in banner brave. But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, Bewilder'd in the mountain game, Whence the bold boast by which you
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