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Avenger of thy country's shame,
Restorer of her injured fame,
Bless'd in thy sceptre and thy sword,
De Bruce, fair Scotland's rightful Lord,
Bless’d in thy deeds and in thy fame,
What lengthen'd honours wait thy name !
In distant ages, sire to son
Shall tell thy tale of freedom won,
And teach his infants, in the use

Of earliest speech, to faulter Bruce.
Go, then, triumphant! sweep along
Thy course, the theme of many a song!
The Power,, whose dictates swell my breast,
Hath bless'd thee, and thou shalt be bless'd!
Enough—my short-lived strength decays,
And sinks the momentary blaze.
Heaven hath our destined purpose broke,
Not here must nuptial vow be spoke;
Brethren, our errand here is o'er,
Our task discharged.Unmoor, unmoor !"-

His priests received the exhausted Monk,

As breathless in their arms he sunk.

Punctual his orders to obey,
The train refused all longer stay,
Embark’d, raised sail, and bore away.

END OF CANTO SECOND.

THE

LORD OF THE ISLES.

CANTO THIRD.

F

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