XXXI.

E gave him of his Highland cheer,
The harden'd flesh of mountain-deer ;*

Dry fuel on the fire he laid,

And bade the Saxon share his plaid.

He tended him like welcome guest,

:

Then thus his farther speech address'd :-
Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu

A clansman born, a kinsman true;
Each word against his honour spoke,
Demands of me avenging stroke;
Yet more,-upon thy fate, 'tis said,
A mighty augury is laid.

It rests with me to wind my horn,-
Thou art with numbers overborne ;
It rests with me, here, brand to brand,
Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand:
But, not for clan, nor kindred's cause,
Will I depart from honour's laws;

To assail a wearied man were shame,
And stranger is a holy name;
Guidance and rest, and food and fire,
In vain he never must require.

Then rest thee here till dawn of day ;
Myself will guide thee on the way,

O'er stock and stone, through watch and ward,

Till past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard,

As far as Coilantogle's ford;

From thence thy warrant is thy sword."-
"I take thy courtesy, by Heaven,

As freely as 'tis nobly given !"-
"Well, rest thee; for the bittern's cry
Sings us the lake's wild lullaby."
With that he shook the gather'd heath,
And spread his plaid upon the wreath;
And the brave foemen, side by side,
Lay peaceful down, like brothers tried,
And slept until the dawning beam
Purpled the mountain and the stream.

Canto Hifth.

The Combat.

I.

AIR as the earliest beam of eastern light, When first, by the bewilder'd pilgrim spied,

It smiles upon the dreary brow of night,

And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming

tide,

And lights the fearful path on mountain

side ;

Fair as that beam, although the fairest

far,

Giving to horror grace, to danger pride, Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star,

Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow of War.

II.

HAT early beam, so fair and sheen,

Was twinkling through the hazel screen, When, rousing at its glimmer red,

The warriors left their lowly bed,
Look'd out upon the dappled sky,
Mutter'd their soldier matins by,
And then awaked their fire, to steal,
As short and rude, their soldier meal.
That o'er, the Gaelt around him threw
His graceful plaid of varied hue,
And, true to promise, led the way,
By thicket green and mountain grey.
A wildering path !-they winded now
Along the precipice's brow,

Commanding the rich scenes beneath,
The windings of the Forth and Teith,
And all the vales between that lie,
Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky;

Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance
Gain'd not the length of horseman's lance.
'Twas oft so steep the foot was fain
Assistance from the hand to gain;

So tangled oft, that bursting through,

Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew,—
That diamond dew, so pure and clear,
It rivals all but Beauty's tear!

III.

T length they came where, stern and

steep,

The hill sinks down upon the deep.
Here Vennachar in silver flows,
There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose ;
Ever the hollow path twined on,
Beneath steep bank and threatening stone;
An hundred men might hold the post,
With hardihood, against a host.
The rugged mountain's scanty cloak
Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak,
With shingles bare, and cliffs between,
And patches bright of bracken green,
And heather black, that waved so high,
It held the copse in rivalry.

But where the lake slept deep and still,
Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill;
And oft both path and hill were torn.