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XVI.

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Fling me the picture of the fight Is it the lightning's quivering glance
When met iny clan the Saxon might. That on the thicket streams,
I 'll listen, till my fancy hears

Or do they flash on spear and lance The clang of swords, the crash of The sun's retiring beams ? spears:

I see the dagger-crest of Mar, These grates, these walls, shall vanish I see the Moray's silver star then,

i Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, For the fair field of fighting men, That up the lake comes winding far! And my free spirit burst away,

To hero bound for battle-strife, As if it soar'd from battle fray.'

Or bard of martial lay, The trembling Bard with awe obey'd, 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful Slow on the harp his hand he laid;

life, But soon remembrance of the sight One glance at their array: He witness'd from the mountain's

height, With what old Bertram told at night, • Their light-arm'd archers far and Awaken'd the full power of song, And bore him in career along -

Survey'd the tangled ground; As shallop launch'd on river's tide, Their centre ranks, with pike and That slow and fearful leaves the side,

spear, But, when it feels the middle stream, A twilight forest frown'd ; Drives downward swift as lightning's Their barbed horsemen, in the rear, beam :

The stern battalia crown'd.
No cymbal clash'd, no clarion rang,

Still were the pipe and drum;

Save heavy tread, and armour's BATTLE OF BEAL' AX DUIXE.

clang, · The Minstrel came once inore to view The sullen march was dumb. The eastern ridge of Benvenue,

There breathed no wind their crests For, ere he parted, he would say

to shake, Farewell to lovely Loch Achray:

Or wave their flags abroad ; Where shall he find, in foreign land, Scarce the frail aspen seemd to So lone a lake, so sweet a strand!

quake, There is no breeze upon the fern, That shadow'd o'er their road. Nor ripple on the lake ;

Theirvawardscoutsnotidings bring. Upon her eyry nods the erne,

Can rouse no lurking foe, The deer has sought the brake; Nor spy a trace of living thing, The small birds will not sing aloud, Save when they stirr'd the roe;

The springing trout lies still, The host moves like a deep-sea Sodarkly glooms yon thunder cloud, wave, That swathes, as with a purple Where rise no rocks its pride to shroud,

brave, Benledi's distant hill.

High-swelling, dark, and slow. Is it the thunder's solemn sound The lake is pass'd, and now they gain

That mutters deep and dread, A narrow and a broken plain, Or echoes from the groaning ground Before the Trosachs' rugged jaws;

The warrior's ineasured trcad? | Andhere the horse and spearmen pause,

XV.

While, to explore the dangerous glen, | I heard the lance's shivering crash, Dive through the pass the archer-men. As when the whirlwind rends the ash, xvII.

I heard the broadsword's deadly clang, *At once there rose so wild a yell As if an hundred anvils rang! Within that dark and narrow dell, But Moray wheel'd his rearward rank As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine's flank, Had peal'd the banner-cry of hell ! “My banner-man, advance!

Forth from the pass in tumult driven, I see,” hecried, “theircolumn shake. Likechaffbefore the wind of heaven, Now, gallants ! for your ladies' sake, The archery appear ;

Upon them with the lance!” For life! for life! their plight they The horsemen dash'd among the ply

rout, Andshriek, and shout, and battle-cry, As deer break through the broom; And plaids and bonnets waving high, Their steeds are stout, their swords And broadswords flashing to the sky, are out, Are maddening in the rear.

They soon make lightsome room. Onward they drive, in dreadful race, Clan-Alpine's best are backward Pursuers and pursued;

borne! Before that tide of flight and chase, Where, where was Roderick How shall it keep its rooted place,

then ? The spearmen's twilight wood ? One blast upon his bugle-horn “Down, down,” cried Mar, “your Were worth a thousand men! lances down!

And refluent through the pass offear, Bear back both friend and foe!” The battle's tide was pour'd; Like reeds before the tempest's Vanish'd the Saxon's struggling frown,

spear, That serried grove of lances brown Vanish'd the mountain-sword. At once lay levellid low;

As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and And closely shouldering side to side, steep, The bristling ranks the onset bide. Receives her roaring linn, “We'll quell the savage moun As the dark caverns of the deep tảineer,

Suck the wild whirlpool in, As their Tinchel cows the game! So did the deep and darksome pass They come as fleet as forest deer, Devour the battle's mingled mass : We'll drive them back as tame.” None linger now upon the plain, XVIII.

Save those who ne'er shall fight again. Bearing before them, in their course, The relics of the archer force,

XIX. Like wave with crestof sparkling foam, Now westward rolls the battle's Right onward did Clan-Alpine come.

din, Above the tide, each broadsword That deep and doubling pass within. bright

Minstrel, away, the work of fate Was brandishing like beam of light, Is bearing on : its issue wait,

Each targe was dark below ; Where the rude Trosachs' dread defile And with the ocean's mighty swing, Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. When heaving to the tempest's wing, Grey Benvenue I soon repass'd,

They hurl'd them on the foe. Loch Katrine lay beneath mc cast.

1

The sun is set; the clouds are met, Forth from the ranks a spearman The lowering scowl of heaven

sprung, An inky hue of livid blue

On earth his casque and corslet rung, To the deep lake has given ; He plunged him in the wave: Strange gusts of wind from mountain- ; All saw the deed, the purpose knew, glen

And to their clamours Benvenue Swept o'er the lake, then sunk agen. A mingled echo gave; I heeded not the eddying surge, The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, Mine eye but saw the Trosachs' gorge, The helpless females scream for fear, Mine ear but heard the sullen sound, And yells for rage the mountaineer. Which like an earthquake shook the 'Twas then, as by the outcry riven, ground,

Pour'd down at once the lowering And spoke the stern and desperate heaven: strife

A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine's That parts not but with parting life,

breast, Seeming, to minstrel car, to toll Her billows rear'd their snowy crest. The dirge of many a passing soul. Wellfortheswimmerswell’d theyhigli, Nearer it comes; the dim-wood glen To mar the Highland marksman's eye; The martial flood disgorged agen, For round him shower'd, 'mid rain But not in mingled tide;

and hail, The plaided warriors of the North The vengeful arrows of the Gael. High on the mountain thunder forth In vain ; he nears the isle, and lo! And overhang its side;

His hand is on a shallop's bow. While by the lake below appears · Just then a flash of lightning came, The dark’ning cloud of Saxon spears. It tinged the waves and strand with At weary bay each shatter'd band,

flame; Eyeing their foemen, sternly stand; I mark'd Duncraggan's widow'd dame, Their banners stream like tatter'd sail, : Behind an oak I saw her stand, That flings its fragments to the gale, A naked dirk gleam'd in her hand : And broken arms and disarray It darken'd; but, amid the moan Mark'd the fell havoc of the day. Of waves, I heard a dying groan;

Another flash!- the spearman floats

A weltering corse beside the boats, * Viewing the mountain's ridge a- | And the stern matron o'er him stood, skance,

Her hand and dagger streaming blood. The Saxon stood in sullen trance, Till Moray pointed with his lance, ""Revenge! revenge!" the Saxons And cried— Behold yon isle !

cried, See! none are left to guard its strand, · The Gaels' exulting shout replici. But women weak, that wring the hand: - Despite the elemental rage, 'Tis there of yore the robber banci Again they hurried to engage; Their booty wont to pile;

But, ere they closed in desperate fight, My purse, with bonnet-pieces store, Bloody with spurring came a knight, To him will swim a bow-shot o'er, Sprung from his horse, and, from And loose a shallop from the shore.

a crag Lightly we 'll tame the war-wolf then, · Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white Lords of his mate, and brood, and den.' flag.

XX.

XXI.

Clarion and trumpet by his side When mourns thy tribe thy battles
Rung forth a truce-note high and wide, done,
While, in the Monarch's name, afar Thy fall before the race was won,
An herald's voice forbade the war, Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun !
For Bothwell's lord, and Roderick There breathes not clansman of thy line,
bold,

But would have given his life for thine. Were both, he said, in captive hold.' O woe for Alpine's honour'd Pine ! But here the lay made sudden stand!

Sad was thy lot on mortal stage ! The harp escaped the Minstrel's hand!

The captive thrush may brook the cage, Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy

The prison'd eagle dies for rage. How Roderick brook'd his minstrelsy:

Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain ! At first, the Chieftain, to the chime,

And, when its notes awake again, With lifted hand, kept feeble time;

Even she, so long beloved in vain, That motion ceased, yet feeling strong Shall with my harp her voice combine, Varied his look as changed the song;

And mix her woe and tears with minc, At length, no more his deafen'd car

To wail Clan-Alpine's honour'd Pine.' The minstrel melody can hear; His face grows sharp, his hands are

XXIII. clench'd,

Ellen the while with bursting heart As if some pang his heart-strings Remaind in lordly bower apart, wrench'd;

Where play'd with many-colour'd Set are his teeth, his fading eye

gleams, Is sternly fix'd on vacancy ;

Through storied pane the rising beams. Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew

In vain on gilded roof they fall, His parting breath, stout Roderick And lightend up a tapestried wall, Dhu!

Ind for her use a menial train Old Allan-bane look'd on aghast, While grim and still his spirit pass'd: The banquet proud, the chamber gay,

A rich collation spread in vain. But when he saw that life was fled,

Scarce drew one curious glanceastray'; He pour'd his wailing o'er the dead:

Or, if she look'd, 'twas but to say,
With better omen dawn'd the day

In that lone isle, where waved on high And art thou cold and lowly laid,

The dun-deer's hide for canopy; Thy foeman's dread, thy people's aid, i Where oft her noble father shared Breadalbane's boast, Clan - Alpine's

The simple meal her care prepared, shade!

While Lufra, crouching by her side For thee shall none a requiem say ?

Her station claim'd with jealous pride, For thee, who loved the minstrel's lay,

And Douglas, bent on woodland game, For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay, Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Græme, The shelter of her exiled line,

Whose answer, oft at random made, E'en in this prison-house of thine,

| The wandering of his thoughts I'll wail for Alpine's honour'd Pine!

betray'd.

Those who such simple joys have “What groans shall yonder valleys fill! known, Whatshrieksofgriefshall rendyon hill: Are taught to prize them when they're What tears of burning rage shall thrill, gone.

XXII.

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XXVI.

But sudden, see, she lifts her head ! O welcome, brave Fitz-James' she
The window seeks with cautious tread.
What distant music has the power How may an almost orphan maid
To win her in this woful hour! Pay the deep debt'--. 'O say not so!
'Twas from a turret that o'erhung To me no gratitude you owe.
Herlatticed bower, the strain wassung: Not mine, alas! the boon to give,

And bid thy noble father live;

I can but be thy guide, sweet maid, LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAX. With Scotland's king thy suit to aid, • My hawk is tired of perch and hood,

No tyrant he, though ire and pride My idle greyhound loathes his food,

May lay his better inood aside. My horse is weary of his stall, Come, Ellen, come! 'tis more than time, And I am sick of captive thrall.

He holds his court at morning prime.'

With beating heart, and bosom wrung, I wish I were, as I have been, As to a brother's arm she clung. Hunting the hart in forest green, Gently he dried the falling tear, With bended bowand bloodhound free, And gently whisper'd hope and cheer; For that's the life is meet for me. Her faltering steps half led, half staid, I hate to learn the ebb of time

Through gallery fair, and high arcade, From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime, Till, at his touch, its wings of pride Or mark it as the sunbcams crawl,

A portal arch unfolded wide. Inch after inch, along the wall. The lark was wont my matins ring, Within 'twas brilliant all and light, The sable rook my vespers sing ;

A thronging scene of figures bright; These towers, although a king's they be, It glow'd on Ellen's dazzled sight, Have not a hall of joy for me.

As when the setting sun has given

Ten thousand hues to summer even, No more at dawning morn I rise,

And from their tissue fancy frames And sun myself in Ellen's eyes,

Aërial knights and fairy dames. Drive the fleet deer the forest through, Still by Fitz-James her footing staid; And homeward wend with evening | A few faint steps she forward made, dew;

Then slow her drooping head she A blithesome welcome blithely meet,

raised, And lay my trophies at her feet,

And fearful round the presence gazed; While fled the eve on wing of glce:

For him she sought, who own'd this That life is lost to love and me!'

state, The dreaded prince whose will was

fate. The heart-sick lay was hardly said, She gazed on many a princely port, The list'ner had not turn'd her head, Might well have ruled a royal court; It trickled still, the starting tear, On many a splendid garl) she gazed, When light a footstep struck her car, Then turn'd bewilder'd and amazed, And Snowdoun's graceful knight was For all stood bare; and, in the room, ncar.

Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. She turn'd the hastier, lest again To him cach lady's look was lent; The prisoner should renew his strain. ! On him each courtier's eye was bent ;

XXV.

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