Mid those the stranger fixed his eye

Where that huge faulchion hung on high,

And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng, Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along, Until, the giddy whirl to cure,

He rose, and sought the moon-shine pure.

XXXV.

The wild rose, eglantine, and broom,
Wasted around their rich perfume;
The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm,
The aspens slept beneath the calm;
The silver light, with quivering glance,
Played on the water's still expanse,-

Wild were the heart whose passion's sway

Could rage beneath the sober ray!

He felt its calm, that warrior guest,

While thus he communed with his breast:

"6 Why is it at each turn I trace

Some memory of that exiled race?

Can I not mountain maiden spy,

But she must bear the Douglas eye?
Can I not view a highland brand,
But it must match the Douglas hand?
Can I not frame a fevered dream,

But still the Douglas is the theine ?—
I'll dream no more-by manly mind
Not even in sleep is will resigned.
My midnight orison said o'er,

I'll turn to rest, and dream no more."

His midnight orison he told,

A prayer with every bead of gold,

Consigned to heaven his cares and woes,

And sunk in undisturbed repose;

Until the heath-cock shrilly crew,

And morning dawned on Benvenue.

END OF CANTO FIRST.

THE

LADY OF THE LAKE.

CANTO SECOND.

The Island.

THE

LADY OF THE LAKE.

CANTO SECOND.

The Island.

I.

AT morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing,
'Tis morning prompts the linnet's blithest lay,
All nature's children feel the matin spring
Of life reviving, with reviving day;
And while yon little bark glides down the bay,
Wafting the stranger on his way again,
Morn's genial influence roused a Minstrel grey,

And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain, Mix'd with the sounding harp, O white-haired Allan-bane !.