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O that some seedling gem, Worthy such noble stem, Honour’d and bless'd in their shadow might grow ! Loud should Clan-Alpine then Ring from his deepmost glen, * Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!”.'

XXI.
With all her 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 the strand
To greet her kinsman ere he land :
“Come, loiterer, come a Douglas thou,
And shun to wreath a victor's brow?”—
Reluctantly and slow, the maid
The unwelcome summoning obey'd, -

i [“However we may dislike the geographical song and chorus, half English and half Erse, which is sung in praise of the warrior, we must allow that, in other respects, the hero of a poem has seldom, if ever, been introduced with finer effect, or in a manner better calculated to excite the expectations of the reader, than on the present occasion.”—Critical Review.]

2 [MS.—“The chorus to the chieftain's fame.”]

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Her filial welcomes crowded hung,
Mark'd she, that fear (affection's proof)
Still held a graceful youth aloof;
No! not till Douglas named his name,
Although the youth was Malcolm Graeme.

XXIII. Allan, with wistful look the while, Mark'd Roderick landing on the isle; His master piteously he eyed, Then gazed upon the Chieftain's pride, Then dash'd, with hasty hand, away From his dimm'd eye the gathering spray; And Douglas, as 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 the lay O'er the arch'd gate of Bothwell proud, While many a minstrel answer'd loud, When Percy's Norman pennon won In bloody field, before me shone, And twice ten knights, the least a name As mighty as yon Chief may claim, Gracing my pomp, behind me came.

No! not till Douglas named his name,
Although the youth was Malcolm Græme.
Then with flushed cheek and downcast eye,
Their greeting was confused and shy.”]

Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud
Was I of all that marshall'd crowd,
Though the waned crescent own'd my might,
And in my train troop'd lord and knight,
Though Blantyre hymn'd her holiest lays,
And Bothwell's bards flung back my praise,
As when this old man's silent tear,
And this poor maid's affection dear,
A welcome give more kind and true,
Than aught my better fortunes knew.
Forgive, my friend, a father's boast,
O! it out-beggars all I lost!”

XXIV. Delightful praise!—Like summer rose, That brighter in the dew-drop glows, The bashful maiden's cheek appear'd, For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. The flush of shamefaced joy to hide, The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide; The loved caresses of the maid The dogs with crouch and whimper paid;' And, at her whistle, on her hand The falcon took his favourite stand, Closed his dark wing, relax’d his eye, Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly. And, trust, while in such guise she stood, Ilike fabled Goddess of the Wood,”

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That if a father's partial thought
O'erweigh’d her worth and beauty aught,
Well might the lover's judgment fail
To balance with a juster scale;
For with each secret glance he stole,
The fond enthusiast sent his soul.

XXV.

Of stature tall, and slender frame, But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme, The belted plaid and tartan hose Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ; His flaxen hair of sunny hue, Curl’d closely round his bonnet blue. Train’d 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 wing'd with fear, Outstripp'd 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 ;

It danced as lightsome in his breast,

As play'd the feather on his crest.

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