But good King Robert cried, "Chafe not-by signs he speaks his mind, He heard the plan my care design'd,

Nor could his transports hide.But, sister, now bethink thee well; No easy choice the convent cell; Trust, I shall play no tyrant part, Either to force thy hand or heart, Or suffer that Lord Ronald scorn, Or wrong for thee, the Maid of Lorn. But think,-not long the time has been, That thou wert wont to sigh unseen, And wouldst the ditties best approve, That told some lay of hapless love. Now are thy wishes in thy power, And thou art bent on cloister bower! O! if our Edward knew the change, How would his busy satire range, With many a sarcasm varied still

On woman's wish, and woman's will!"—

ΧΧΙΧ.

"Brother, I well believe," she said,
"Even so would Edward's part be play'd.
Kindly in heart, in word severe,

A foe to thought, and grief, and fear,
He holds his humor uncontroll'd;
But thou art of another mould.
Say then to Ronald, as I say,
Unless before my feet he lay

The ring which bound the faith he swore,
By Edith freely yielded o'er,

He moves his suit to me no more.

Nor do I promise, even if now
He stood absolved of spousal vow,

That I would change my purpose made,
To shelter me in holy shade.---
Brother, for little space, farewell!
To other duties warns the bell."-

XXX.

"Lost to the world," King Robert said, When he had left the royal maid, "Lost to the world by lot severe, O what a gem lies buried here, Nipp'd by misfortune's cruel frost, The buds of fair affection lost!—1

1 The MS. here adds:

"She yields one shade of empty hope;
But well I guess her wily scope
Is to elude Lord Ronald's plea,
And still my importunity."

This and the two vos cceeding lines are interpolated on the bank page of the MS.

3 The fourth canto cannot be very greatly praised. It contains, indeed, many pleasing passages; but the merit which they possess is too much detached from the general interest of the poem. The only business is Bruce's arrival at the isle of Arran. The voyage is certainly described with spirit; bat

But what have I with love to do?
Far sterner cares my lot pursue.
-Pent in this isle we may not lie,
Nor would it long our wants supply.
Right opposite, the mainland towers
Of my own Turnberry court our powers—
-Might not my father's beadsnian hoar,
Cuthbert, who dwells upon the shore,
Kindle a signal-flame, to show
The time propitious for the blow?
It shall be so-some friend shall bear
Our mandate with despatch and care;
-Edward shall find the messenger.
That fortress ours, the island fleet
May on the coast of Carrick meet-
O Scotland! shall it e'er be mine
To wreak thy wrongs in battle-line,
To raise my victor-head, and see
Thy hills, thy dales, thy people free,—
That glance of bliss is all I crave,
Betwixt my labors and my grave!"
Then down the hill he slowly went,

Oft pausing on the steep descent,
And reach'd the spot where his bold train
Held rustic camp upon the plain.

The Lord of the Isles.

CANTO FIFTH.

I.

Ox fair Loch-Ranza stream'd the early day, Thin wreaths of cottage-smoke are upward curl'd From the lone hamlet, which her inland bay And circling mountains sever from the world. And there the fisherman his sail unfurl'd, The goat-herd drove his kids to steep Ben-Ghoil, Before the hut the dame her spindle twirl'd, Courting the sunbeam as she plied her toil,— For, wake where'er he may, Man wakes to care and toil.

But other duties call'd each convent maid, Roused by the summons of the moss-grown bell;

the remainder of the canto is rather tedious, and might, with out any considerable inconvenience, have been left a good deal to the reader's imagination. Mr. Scott ought to reserve, as much as possible, the interlocutory part of his narrative, for occasions which admit of high and animated sentiment, or the display of powerful emotions, because this is almost the only poetical beauty of which speeches are susceptible. But to fill up three-fourths of a canto with a lover's asking a brother in a quiet and friendly manner for permission to address his sister in marriage, and a brother's asking his sister whethe she has any objections, is, we think, somewhat injudicious' -Quarterly Review.

Sung were the matins, and the mass was said,
And every sister sought her separate cell,
Such was the rule, her rosary to tell.
And Isabel has knelt in lonely prayer

The sunbeam, through the narrow lattice, fell
Upon the snowy neck and long dark hair,
As stoop'd her gentle head in meek devotion there.

II.

She raised her eyes, that duty done, When glanced upon the pavement-stone, Gemm'd and enchased, a golden ring, Bound to a scroll with silken string,' With few brief words inscribed to tell, "This for the Lady Isabel." Within, the writing farther bore,"'Twas with this ring his plight he swore With this his promise I restore; To her who can the heart command, Well may I yield the plighted hand. And O! for better fortune born, Grudge not a passing sigh to mourn Her who was Edith once of Lorn!" One single flash of glad surprise Just glanced from Isabel's dark eyes, But vanish'd in the blush of shame, That, as its penance, instant came. "O thought unworthy of my race! Selfish, ungenerous, mean, and base, A moment's throb of joy to own,2 That rose upon her hopes o'erthrown!Thou pledge of vows too well believed, Of man ingrate and maid deceived, Think not thy lustre here shall gain Another heart to hope in vain! For thou shalt rest, thou tempting gaud, Where worldly thoughts are overawed, And worldly splendors sink debased." Then by the cross the ring she placed.

"Strange doubts are mine!-Mona, draw nigh
-Naught 'scapes old Mona's curious eye-
What strangers, gentle mother, say,
Have sought these holy walls to-day?"-
"None, Lady, none of note or name;
Only your brother's foot-page came,
At peep of dawn-I pray'd him. pass
To chapel where they said the mass;
But like an arrow he shot by,
And tears seem'd bursting from his eye."
IV.

The truth at once on Isabel,

As darted by a sunbeam, fell.

46

"Tis Edith's self!-her speechless woe,
Her form, her looks, the secret show!
-Instant, good Mona, to the bay,
And to my royal brother say,

I do conjure him seek my cell,
With that mute page he loves so well."-
"What! know'st thou not his warlike host
At break of day has left our coast ?*
My old eyes saw them from the tower.
At eve they couch'd in greenwood bower,
At dawn a bugle signal, made

By their bold Lord, their ranks array'd;
Up sprung the spears through bush and

tree,

No time for benedicite!

Like deer, that, rousing from their lair,
Just shake the dew-drops from their hair,
And toss their armed crests aloft,
Such matins theirs !"-"Good mother, soft-
Where does my brother bend his way ?"-
"As I have heard, for Brodick-Bay,.
Across the isle-of barks a score
Lie there, 'tis said, to waft them o'er,
On sudden news, to Carrick-shore."-
"If such their purpose, deep the need,"
Said anxious Isabel," of speed!
Call Father Augustine, good dame."
The nun obey'd, the Father came.

V.

"Kind Father, hie without delay,
Across the hills to Brodick-Bay.
This message to the Bruce be given;
I pray him, by his hopes of Heaven,
That, till he speak with me, he stay!
Or, if his haste brook no delay,
That he deliver, on my suit,
Into thy charge that stripling mute.

Thus prays his sister Isabel,

For causes more than she may tell

3 MS.-"Tis she herself."

4 MS.-"What! know'st thou not in sudden haste The warriors from our woods have pass'd ?"

6 MS." Canst tell where they have bent their way?

Away, good father! and take heed, That life and death are on thy speed." His cowl the good old priest did on, Took his piked staff and sandall'd shoon, And, like a palmer bent by eld,

O'er moss and moor his journey held.'

VI.

age,

Heavy and dull the foot of
And rugged was the pilgrimage;
But none was there beside, whose care
Might such important message bear.
Through birchen copse he wander'd slow,
Stunted and sapless, thin and low;
By many a mountain stream he pass'd,
From the tall cliffs in tumult cast,
Dashing to foam their waters dun,
And sparkling in the summer sun.
Round his gray head the wild curlew
In many a fearless circle flew.

O'er chasms he pass'd, where fractures wide
Craved wary eye and ample stride;2
He cross'd his brow beside the stone
Where Druids erst heard victims groan,
And at the cairns upon the wild,
O'er many a heathen hero piled,
He breathed a timid prayer for those
Who died ere Shiloh's sun arose.
Beside Macfarlane's Cross he staid,
There told his hours within the shade,
And at the stream his thirst allay'd.
Thence onward journeying slowly still,
As evening closed he reach'd the hill,
Where, rising through the woodland green,
Old Brodick's gothic towers were seen,
From Hastings, late their English lord,
Douglas had won them by the sword.
The sun that sunk behind the isle,
Now tinged them with a parting smile.

VII.

But though the beams of light decay,
'Twas bustle all in Brodick-Bay.
The Bruce's followers crowd the shore,
And boats and barges some unmoor,
Some raise the sail, some seize the oar.
Their eyes oft turn'd where glimmer'd far
What might have seem'd an early star
On heaven's blue arch, save that its light
Was all too flickering, fierce, and bright.
Far distant in the south, the ray
Shone pale amid retiring day,

MS." And cross the island took his way,
O'er hill and holt, to Brodick-Bay."

See Appendix, Note 2 W.
MS." He cross'd him by the Druids' stone,
That heard of yore the victim's groan."

(See Appendix, Note 2 X.

But as, on Carrick-shore, Dim seen in outline faintly blue, The shades of evening closer drew, It kindled more and more.

The monk's slow steps now press the sands
And now amid a scene he stands,

Full strange to churchman's eye;
Warriors, who, arming for the fight,
Rivet and clasp their harness light,
And twinkling spears, and axes bright,
And helmets flashing high.
Oft, too, with unaccustom'd ears,
A language much unmeet he hears,
While, hastening all on board,
As stormy as the swelling surge
That mix'd its roar, the leaders urge
Their followers to the ocean verge,

With many a haughty word.

VIII.

Through that wild throng the Father pass'd,
And reach'd the Royal Bruce at last.
He leant against a stranded boat,
That the approaching tide must float,
And counted every rippling wave,
As higher yet her sides they lave,
And oft the distant fire he eyed,
And closer yet his hauberk tied,
And loosen'd in its sheath his brand.
Edward and Lennox were at hand,
Douglas and Ronald had the care
The soldiers to the barks to share.-
The Monk approach'd and homage paid;
"And art thou come," King Robert said,
"So far to bless us ere we part?"-
--"My Liege, and with a loyal heart!-
But other charge I have to tell,"
And spoke the hest of Isabel.

-"Now by Saint Giles," the monarch cried,
"This moves me much!-this morning tide,
I sent the stripling to Saint Bride,
With my commandment there to bide."-
"Thither he came the portress show'd,
But there, my Liege, made brief abode."-

IX.

""Twas I," said Edward, "found employ Of nobler import for the boy.

Deep pondering in my anxious mind,

A fitting messenger to find,

To bear my written mandate o'er

To Cuthbert on the Carrick-shore,

See Appendix, Note 2 Y.

6 MS.-"The shades of even more closely drew,

It brighten'd more and more.

Now print his sandall'd feet the sands,
And now amid," &c.

7 See Appendix, Note 2 Z.

I chanced, at early dawn, to pass
The chapel gate to snatch a mass.
I found the stripling on a tomb
Low-seated, weeping for the doom
That gave his youth to convent gloom.
I told my purpose, and his eyes
Flash'd joyful at the glad surprise.
He bounded to the skiff, the sail
Was spread before a prosperous gale,
And well my charge he hath obey'd;
For, see the ruddy signal made,
That Clifford, with his merry-men all,
Guards carelessly our father's hall."-

X.

"O wild of thought, and hard of heart!"
Answer'd the Monarch, " on a part
Of such deep danger to employ
A mute, an orphan, and a boy !2
Unfit for flight, unfit for strife,
Without a tongue to plead for life!
Now, were my right restored by Heaven,
Edward, my crown I would have given,
Ere, thrust on such adventure wild,
I peril'd thus the helpless child."—
-Offended half, and half submiss,

- Brother and Liege, of blame like this,"
Edward replied, "I little dream'd.
A stranger messenger, I decm'd,
Might safest seek the beadsman's cell,
Where all thy squires are known so well.
Noteless his presence, sharp his sense,
His imperfection his defence.

If seen, none can his errand guess;
If ta'en, his words no tale express-
Methinks, too, yonder beacon's shine
Might expiate greater fault than mine."-
"Rash," said King Robert, "was the deed-
But it is done.-Embark with speed!-
Good Father, say to Isabel

How this unhappy chance befell;
If well we thrive on yonder shore,
Soon shall my care her page restore.
Our greeting to our sister bear,
And think of us in mass and prayer."-

XI.

Aye!" said the Priest, "while this poor hand Can chalice raise or cross command, While my old voice has accents' use, Can Augustine forget the Bruce !" Then to his side Lord Ronald press'd, And whisper'd, "Bear thou this request,

The MS. reads:

"Keeps careless guard in Turnberry hall,"

See Appendix, Note 3 A.

2 MS.-" Said Robert, to assign a part

That when by Bruce's side I fight,
For Scotland's crown and Freedom's right
The princess grace her knight to bear
Some token of her favoring care;

It shall be shown where England's best
May shrink to see it on my crest.
And for the boy-since weightier care
For royal Bruce the times prepare,
The helpless youth is Ronald's charge,
His couch my plaid, his fence my targe."
He ceased; for many an eager hand
Had urged the barges from the strand.
Their number was a score and ten,
They bore thrice threescore chosen men.
With such small force did Bruce at last
The die for death or empire cast!

XII.

Now on the darkening main afloat,
Ready and mann'd rocks every boat;
Beneath their oars the ocean's might
Was dash'd to sparks of glimmering light.
Faint and more faint, as off they bore,
Their armor glanced against the shore,
And, mingled with the dashing tide,
Their murmuring voices distant died.-
"God speed them!" said the Priest, as dark
On distant billows glides each bark;
"O Heaven! when swords for freedom shine,
And monarch's right, the cause is thine!
Edge doubly every patriot blow!
Beat down the banners of the foe!
And be it to the nations known,
That Victory is from God alone !"
As up the hill his path he drew,
He turn'd his blessings to renew,
Oft turn'd, till on the darken'd coast
All traces of their course were lost;
Then slowly bent to Brodick tower,
To shelter for the evening hour.

Each steersman kept the helm aright,
And oft, for such the King's command,
That all at once might reach the strand,
From boat to boat loud shout and hail
Warn'd them to crowd or slacken sail.
South and by west the armada bore,
And near at length the Carrick-shore.
And less and less the distance grows,
High and more high the beacon rose;
The light, that seem'd a twinkling star,
Now blazed portentous, fierce, and far.
Dark-red the heaven above it glow'd,
Dark-red the sea beneath it flow'd,
Red rose the rocks on ocean's brim,
In blood-red light her islets swim;
Wild scream the dazzled sea-fowl gave,
Dropp'd from their crags on plashing wave.'
The deer to distant covert drew,
The black-cock deem'd it day, and crew.
Like some tall castle given to flame,
O'er half the land the lustre came.
"Now, good my Liege, and brother sage,
What think ye of mine elfin page ?"-
"Row on!" the noble King replied,
"We'll learn the truth whate'er betide;
Yet sure the beadsman and the child
Could ne'er have waked that beacon wild.

XIV.

With that the boats approach'd the land,"
But Edward's grounded on the sand;
The eager Knight leap'd in the sea
Waist-deep, and first on shore was he,
Though every barge's hardy band
Contended which should gain the land,
When that strange light, which, seen afar,
Seem'd steady as the polar star,
Now, like a prophet's fiery chair,
Seem'd travelling the realms of air.
Wide o'er the sky the splendor glows,
As that portentous meteor rose;
Helm, axe, and falchion glitter'd bright,
And in the red and dusky light
His comrade's face each warrior saw,
Nor marvell'd it was pale with awe.
Then high in air the beams were lost,
And darkness sunk upon the coast.-
Ronald to Heaver. a prayer address'd,
And Douglas cross'd his dauntless breast;
"Saint James protect us!" Lennox cried,
But reckless Edward spoke aside,

Or would thy dauntless heart endure
Once more to make assurance sure ?"-
"Hush!" said the Bruce, "we soon shall know
If this be sorcerer's empty show,'

Or stratagem of southern foe.

The moon shines out-upon the sand
Let every leader rank his band."

XV.

Faintly the moon's pale beams supply
That ruddy light's unnatural dye;
The dubious cold reflection lay
On the wet sands and quiet bay.
Beneath the rocks King Robert drew
His scatter'd files to order due,
Till shield compact and serried spear
In the cool light shone blue and clear.
Then down a path that sought the tide,
That speechless page was seen to glide;
He knelt him lowly on the sand,
And gave a scroll to Robert's hand.
"A torch," the Monarch cried, "What, ho!
Now shall we Cuthbert's tidings know."
But evil news the letters bare,
The Clifford's force was strong and ware,
Augmented, too, that very morn,
By mountaineers who came with Lorn.
Long harrow'd by oppressor's hand,
Courage and faith had fled the land,
And over Carrick, dark and deep,
Had sunk dejection's iron sleep.-
Cuthbert had seen that beacon-flame,
Unwitting from what source it came.
Doubtful of perilous event,
Edward's mute messenger he sent,
If Bruce deceived should venture o'er,
To warn him from the fatal shore.

XVI.

As round the torch the leaders crowd,
Bruce read these chilling news aloud.
"What council, nobles, have we now!-
To ambush us in greenwood bough,
And take the chance which fate may send
To bring our enterprise to end,
Or shall we turn us to the main
As exiles, and embark again?"—
Answer'd fierce Edward, "Hap what may,
In Carrick, Carrick's Lord must stay.

I would not minstrels told the tale,
Wildfire or meteor' made us quail."-
Answer'd the Douglas, "If my Liege
May win yon walls by storm or siege,

Said Bruce, if this be sorcerer's show.'" MS.- -"on the moisten'd sand." MS.-"That Clifford's force in watch were ware." 7 MS.-"A wildfire meteor," &o.