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Mad with success, and drunk with gore,
And ward on ward they win.
And fearful was the din!
Nor sunk the fearful cry,
Groan'd in their agony !
Sit, gentle friends! our hour
And cut the cable loose.
If Lorn encounter'd Bruce!
The rugged vaults replied;
Of silver, waving wide!
me antious eye
Love in vain, to spy. ' in the evening beam, duces, bills, and banners gleam;
bere the heaven join'd with the hill, as distant armour flashing still, So wide, so far, the boundless host Seemd in the blue horizon lost.
XXXIN. The Bruce hath won his far --Welcome, brave frien
Welcome to mirth and The first, the last, is
a stame. From lord and chieft
youth, To this poor spec
truthGreat God! once Is mine--behol
In tottering And thore the
to stay Echoed my
saltaise To you
Ronald's eyesO first,
wenor blame Then to
aume her name! Не рани Then Yet Fro
eenuse might know, of Edith's woe, chat revolving time
paste the crime. Sedexom as she said,
e sufferings be repaid!»Sparting hour-a band mountains left the land; SesLouis, (9) had the care
Amadine to bear
honour, as behoved e monarch dearly loved.
And all the western land;
In many a plaided band.
By these Hebrideans worn;
To the fair Maid of Loro!
XII. To centre of the va'ward line Fitz-Louis guided Amadine. Arm'd all on foot, that host appears A serried mass of glimmering spears. There stood the Marchers' warlike band, The warriors there of Lodon's land; Ettrick and Liddel bent the yev, A band of archers fierce though few;
« Know'st thou,» he said, « De Argentine, a
le-day,» the king replied,
the rebel dare our wrath?
vard's signal, soon
al more near the shock of fight,
XV. ford, luigh blood he came, de renown'd for knightly fame. He burn'd before his monarch's eye. To do some deed of chivalry. He spurr'd his steed, he couch'd his lance, And darted on the Bruce at once. -As motionless as rocks, that bide The wrath of the advancing tide, The Bruce stood fast.- Each breast beat ligb, And dazzled was cach gazing eyeThe heart had hardly time to think, The eye-lid scarce had time to wink, While on the king, like flash of flame, Spurrd to full speed the war-horse came! The partridge may the falcon mock, If that slight palfrey stand the shock-But, swerving from the knight's career, Just as they met, Bruce shunnd the spear. Onward the baffled warrior bore His course—but soon his course was o'er ! High in his stirrups stood the king, And gave his battle-axe the swing. Right on De Boune, the whiles he pass'd, Fell that stern diot--the first--the last!Such strength upon the blow was put, The helmet crash'd like hazel-out; The axe-shaft, with its brazen-clasp, Was shiver'd to the gauntlet grasp. Springs from the blow the startled horse, Drops to the plain the lifeless corse ; First of that fatal field, how soon, How sudden, fell the fierce De Boune!
XIV. xay, yet fearful to behold, Flashing with steel and rough with gold,
And bristled o'er with bills and spears, With plumes and pennons waving fair, Was that bright battle-front! for there
Rode England's king and peers : And who, that saw the monarch ride, His kingdom battled by his side, Could then his direful doom foretell! Fair was his seat in knightly selle, And in his sprightly eye was set Some spark of the Plantagenet. Though light and wandering was his glance, Ti flash'd at sight of shield and lance.
XVI. One pitying glance the monarch sped, Where on the field his foe lay dead; Then gently turn'd his palfrey's head, And, pacing back his sober way, Slowly he gain'd his own array. There round their king the leaders crowd, And blame his recklessness aloud, That risk'd 'gainst each adventurous spear A life so valued and so dear. His broken weapon's shaft survey'd The king, and careless answer made, « My loss may pay my folly's tax ; I've broke my trusty battle-axe.»
. XI. 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 climmering light. Faint and more faint, as off they bore, Their armour 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 bauners 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.
XIV. With that the boats approach'd the land, But Edward's grounded on the sand; The eager knight leap J 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 splendour 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 supk upon the coast. — Ronald to Heaven a prayer addressid, And Douglas cross'd his dauntless breast; « Saint James protect us!»--Leonox cried, But reckless Edward spoke aside, « Deem'st thou, Kirkpatrick, in that flame Red Comyn's angry spirit came, Or would thy dauntless heart endure Once more to make assurance surelo« 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.:
XIII. In night the fairy prospects sink, Where Cumray's isles with verdant link Close the fair entrance of the Clyde; The woods of Bute po more descried Are gone-and on the placid sea The rowers plied their task with glee, While hands that knightly lances bore Impatient aid the labouring oar.. The half-faced moon shone dim and pale, And glanced against the whiten'd sail; But on that ruddy beacon-light 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. As 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 il day, and crew. Like some tall castle given to flame. O'er half the land the lustre came.
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 Ilis scattera 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 bo! Now shall we Cuthberi's tidings know. But evil news the letters bare, The Clifford's force was strong and ware, Augmented, too, that very moro, 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,
« Now cheer thee, simple Amadine ! Why throbs tbat silly heart of thine ?»—
-That name the pirates to their slave, (In Gaelic 't is the Changeling) gave« Dost thou not rest thee on my arm? Do not my plaid-folds hold thee warm ? Hath not the wild-bull's treble hide This targe for thee and me supplied ? Is not Clan-Colla's sword of steel? And, trembler, canst thou terror feel ? Cheer thee, and still that throbbing heart; From Ronald's guard thou shalt not part.» -0! many a shaft, at random sent, Finds mark the archer little meant! And many a word, at random spoken, May sooth or wound a heart that's broken! Half sooth'd, half grieved, half terrified, Closc drew the page to Ronald's side; A wild delirious thrill of joy Was in that hour of agony, As up the steepy pass he strove, Fear, toil, and sorrow, lost in love!
What council, nobles, have we now !-
XIX. The barrier of that iron shore, The rock's steep ledge, is now climb'd o'er; And from the castle's distant wall, From tower to tower the warders call : The sound swings over land and sea, And marks a watchful enemy.They gain'd the chase, a wide domain Left for the castle's sylvan reigo (7) (Seek not the scene the axe, the plough, The boor's dull fence, have marr'd it now), But then, soft swept in velvet green The plain with many a glade between, Whose tangled alleys far invade The depth of the brown forest shade. Here the tall fern obscured the lawn, Fair shelter for the sportive faun : There, tufted close with copse-wood green, Was many a swelling hillock seen ; And all around was verdure meet For pressure of the fairies' feet. The glossy holly loved the park, The yew-tree lent its shadow dark, And many an old oak, worn and bare, With all its shiver'd boughs, was there. Lovely between, the moon-beams fell On lawn and hillock, glade and dell. The gallant monarch sigli'd to see Those glades so loved in childhood free, Bethinking that, as outlaw now, He ranged beneath the forest bough.
XVII. Now ask you whence that wondrous light, Whose fairy glow beguiled their sight?It ne'er was known (6)-yet gray-hair'd eld A superstitious credence held, That Dever did a mortal hand Wake its broad glare on Carrick strand; Nay, and that on the self-same night When Bruce crossd o'er, still gleams the light. Yearly it gleams o'er mount and moor, Ånd glittering wave and crimson'd shoreBut whether beam celestial, lent By Heaven to aid the king's descent, Or fire hell-kindled from beneath, To lure him to defeat and death, Or were it but some meteor strange, Of such as oft through midnight range, Startling the traveller late and lone, I know pot-and it ne'er was known.
Fast o'er the moon-light chase they sped.
XVIII Now up the rocky pass they drew, And Ropald, to his promise true, Still made his arm the stripling's stay, To aid him on the rugged way.
With effort faint and lengthen d pause,
To Amadine, Lorn's well-known word
XXI. What may be done ?-the night is gone The Bruce's band moves swiftly onEternal shame, if at the brunt Lord Ronald grace not battle's front« See yonder oak, within whose trunk Decay a darken'd cell hath sunkEnter, and rest thee there a space, Wrap in my plaid thy limbs, thy face. I will not be, believe me, far; But must not quit the ranks of war. Well will I mark the bosky bourne, And soon to guard thee hence, return.Nay, weep not so, thou simple boy! But sleep in peace, and wake in joy.»Jo sylvan lodging close bestow'd, He placed the page, and onward strode With strength put forth, o'er moss and brook, And soon the marching band o'erlook.
-So let it be, with the disgrace
XXII. Thus strangely left, long sobb’d and wept The page, till, wearied out, he slept.A rough voice waked his dream-« Nay, here, Here by this thicket, pass'd the deerBeneath that oak old Ryno staidWhat have we here? a Scottish plaid, And in its folds a stripliog laid ? Come forth ! thy name and business tell What, silent--then I guess thee well, The spy that sought old Cuthbert's cell, Wafted from Annan yester mornCome, comrades, we will strait return. Our lord may chuse the rack should teach To this young lurcher use of speech. Thy bow-string, till I bind him fast.»-« Nay, but he weeps and stands aghast; Unbound we'll lead him, fear it not; 'T is a fair stripling, though a Scot.»--The hunters to the castle sped, And there the hapless captive led.
XXV. Lord Clifford now the captive spied; « Whom, Herbert, hast thou there!! he cried. « A spy was seized within the chase, An hollow oak his lurking-place.» « What tidings can the youth afford is« He plays the mute.»-« Then noose a cordUnless brave Lorn reverse the doom For his plaid's sake.»« Clap-Colla's loom, Said Lorn, whose careless glances trace Rather the vesture than the face, « Clan-Colla's dames such tartans twine; Wearer nor plaid claims care of mine. Give him, if my advice you crave, His own scathed oak; and let him wave In air, unless, by terror wrung, A frank confession find his tongueNor shall be die without his rite; -Thou, Angus Roy, attend the sigbl, And give Clan-Colla's dirge thy breath, As they convey him to his death. « O brother! cruel to the last!» Through the poor captive's bosom pass'd The thought, but, to his purpose true, He said not, though be siglid, « Adieu !-
XXIII. Stout Clifford in the castle-court Prepared him for the morning sport; And now with Lorn held deep discourse, Now gave command for hound and borse. War-steeds and palfreys paw'd the ground, And many a deer-dog howlid around,
XXVI. And will he keep his purpose still, In sight of that last closing ill, When one poor breath, one single word, May freedom, safety, life, afford? Can he resist the instinctive call, For life that bids us barter all!-