Poor remnants of the bleeding heart, Not that the blush to wooer dear, Ellen and I will seek, apart, Nor paleness that of maiden fear. The refuge of some forest cell, | It may not be- forgive her, chief, There, like the hunted quarry, dwell, Nor hazard aught for our relief. Till on the mountain and the moor, Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er The stero pursuit be past and o'er.” | Will level a rebellious spear. 'Twas I that taught his youthful hand xxx. To rein a steed and wield a brand; “No, by mine honour,” Roderick said, I see him yet, the princely boy! "So help me, heaven, and my good blade! Not Ellen more my pride and joy: No, never! blasted be yon pine, I love him still, despite my wrongs, My fathers' ancient crest and mine, By hasty wrath and slanderous tongues. If from its shade in danger part O seek the grace you well may find, Without a cause to maine combined.” XXXIII. The waving of his tartans broad, Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief, And darkened brow, where wounded pride Wil bind to us each western chief. With ire and disappointment vied, When the loud pipes my bridal tell, Seemed, by the torch's gloomy light, Like the ill demon of the night, Upon the ’nighted pilgrim's way: But, unrequited love! thy dart Shall scare the slumbers of king James! Plunged deepest its envenomed smart, -Nas, Ellen, blench not thus away, And Roderick, with thine anguish stung, And, mother, cease these signs, I pray; At length the hand of Douglas wrung, I meant not all my heart might say, While eyes, that mocked at tears before, Snuall need of inroad, or of fight, With bitter drops were running o'er. When the sage Douglas may unite The death pangs of long-cherished hope Each mountain clan in friendly band, Scarce in that ample breast had scope, To guard the passes of their land. But, struggling with his spirit proud, Till the foiled king, from pathless glen, Convulsive heaved its chequered shroud, Shall bootless turn him home agen." While every sob-50 mute were all Was heard distinctly through the hall. The son's despair, the mother's look, III might the gentle Ellen brook; lo slamber scaled a dizzy tower, She rose, and to her side there came, To aid her parting steps, the Græme. XXXIV. Then Roderick from the Douglas broke When, dazzled by the eastern glow, As flashes flame through sable smoke, Such startler cast his glance below, Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low, And saw unmeasured depth around, To one broad blaze of ruddy glow, And heard onintermitted sound, So the deep anguish of despair And thought the battled fence so frail, Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air. It waved like cobweb in the gale; With stalwart grasp his hand he laid Amid his senses' giddy wheel, On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid: Did he not desperate impulse feel, “ Back, beardless boy!” he sternly said, Headlong to plunge himself below, “ Back, minion! hold'st thou thus at naught And meet the worst his fears foreshow The lesson I so lately taught? Thos, Ellen, dizzy and astound, This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, As sudden rain yawned around, Thank thou for punishment delayed.” By crossing terrors wildly tossed, Eager as greyhound on his game, Sull for the Douglas fearing most, Fiercely with Roderick grappled Græme. Could searce the desperate thought withstand, “ Perish my name, if aught afford To bay his safety with her band. Its chieftain safety, save his sword!” Thus as they strove, their desperate hand XXXII. Griped to the dagger or the brand, Such parpose dread could Malcolm spy And death had been-but Douglas rose, lo Ellen's quivering lip and eye, And thrust between the struggling foes And eager rose to speak-but ere His giant strength:-“Chieftains, forego! His tongue could hurry forth his fear, I hold the first who strikes, my foe. Had Douglas marked the hectio strife, Madmen, forbear your frantic jar! Where death seemed combating with life; What! is the Douglas fallen so far, Por to her cheek, in feverish flood, His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil One instant rushed the throbbing blood, Of such dishonourable broil!” Then ebbing back, with sudden sway, Sullen and slowly they unclasp, Left its domain as wan as clay. As struck with shame, their desperate grayp, “ Roderick, enough! enough!” he cried, And each upon his rival glared, “My daughter cannot be thy bride; With foot advanced, and blade half bared. XXXV. And Allan strained his anxious eye Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, Far mid the lake, his form to spy Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung, Darkening across each puny wave, And Malcolm heard his Ellen scream, To which the moon her silver gave. As faltered through terrific dream. Fast as the cormorant could skim, Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, The swimmer plied each active limb; And veiled his wrath in scornful word. Tuen, landing in the moonlight dell, “ Rest safe till morning; pity 'twere Loud shouted of his weal to tell. And joyful from the shore withdrew. CANTO III. THE GATHERING, TIME rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore Malise, what ho!”-his hench-man came;17 Who danced our infancy upon their knee, “ Give our safe-conduct to the Grame.” And told our marvelling boyhood legends store, Young Malcolm answered, calm and bold, Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea, “ Fear nothing for thy favourite hold: How are they blotted from the things that be! The spot an angel deigned to grace, How few, all weak and withered of their force, Is blessed though robbers haunt the place. Wait, on the verge of dark eternity, Thy churlish courtesy for those Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse, Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his As safe to me the mountain way ceaseless course. At midnight, as in blaze of day, Though with bis boldest at his back, Yet live there still who can remember well, E'en Roderick Dhu beset the track. How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew, Brave Douglas,-lovely Ellen, nay, Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell, Nought here of parting will I say. And solitary heath, the signal knew; Earth does not hold a lonesome glen, And fast the faithful clan around him drew, So secret, but we meet agen. What time the warning note was keenly wound, Chieftain! we too shall find an hour.” What time aloft their kindred banner flew, He said, and left the sylvan bower. While clamorous war-pipes yelled the gather ing sound, XXXVI. And while the fiery cross glanced, like a meteor, Old Allan followed to the strand, round, (Such was the Douglas's command,) And anxious told, how, on the morn, The summer dawn's reflected hue The stern sir Roderick deep had sworn, To purple changed Loch-Katrine blue; The fiery cross should circle o'er Mildly and soft the western breeze Dale, glen, and valley, down, and moor. Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees, Much were the peril to the Grame, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, From those who to the signal came: Trembled, but dimpled not for joy; Far up the lake 'twere safest land, The mountain shadows on her breast Himself would row him to the strand. Were neither broken nor at rest; He gave his counsel to the wind, lo bright uncertainty they lie, While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind, Like future joys to fancy's eye. Round dirk, and pouch, and broadsword rolled, The water lily to the light His ample plaid in tightened fold, Her chalice reared of silver bright: And stripped his limbs to such array, The doe awoke, and to the lawn, Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn; The gray mist left the mountain side, The torrent showed its glistening pride; Pattern of old fidelity!” Invisible in flecked sky, The minstrel's hand he kindly pressed, The lark seut down her revelry; “O! could I point a place of rest! | The black-bird and the speckled thrush My sovereign holds in ward my land, Good-morrow gave from brake and bush; My uncle leads my vassal band, In answer cooed the cushat dove To tame his foes, his friends to aid, Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. III. Yet, if there be one faithful Grame, No thought of peace, no thought of rest, Who loves the chieftain of bis name, | Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. Not long shall honoured Douglas dwell, With sheathed broadsword in his hand, Like hunted stag, in mountain cell; Abrupt be paced the islet strand, Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare, And eyed the rising sun, and laid I may not give the rest to air! His band on his impatient blade. Tell Roderick Dhu, I owed him nought, Beneath a rock, his vassai's care Not the poor service of a boat, Was prompt the ritual to prepare, To waft me to yon mountain side.” With deep and deathful meaning fraught; Thea plunged he in the flashing tide. | For such antiqui y had taught Bold o'er the flood his head he bore, Was preface meet, ere yet abroad The shrinking band stood oft aghast A heap of withered boughs was piled, But locked her secret in her breast, VI. VII. The desert gave him visions wild, Such as might suit the spectre's child.s Where with black cliff's the torrents toil, He watched the wheeling eddies boil, Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes Beheld the river demon rise; The mountain-mist took form and limb. Of noontide bag, or goblin grim; The midnight wind came wild and dread, Swelled with the voices of the dead; Far on the future battle-heath His eye beheld the ranks of death: Thus the lone seer, from mankind hurled. Shaped forth a disembodied world. One lingering sympathy of mind Still bound him to the mortal kind; The only parent he could claim Of ancient Alpine's lineage came. Late had he heard in prophet's dream, The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream;6 Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, Of charging steeds, careering fast Along Benharrow's shingly side, Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride:7 The thunder-bolt had split the pine, All augured ill to Alpine's line. He girt his loins, and came to show The signals of impending wo, And now stood prompt to bless or ban, As bade the chieftain of his clan. VUI. 'Twas all prepared;-and from the rock, A goat, the patriarch of the flock, Before the kindling pile was laid, And pierced by Roderick's ready blade. Patient the sickening victim eyed The life-blood ebb in crimson tide, Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb, Till darkness glazed his eye-balls dim. | The grisly priest, with murmuring praya, A slender crosslet, formed with care, V. Of Brian's birth strange tales were told;3 His mother watched a midoight fold, Built deep within a dreary glen, Where scattered lay the bones of men, In some forgotten battle slain, And bleached by drifting wind and rain. It might have tamed a warrior's heart, To view such mockery of his art! The knot-grass fettered there the hand, Which once could burst an iron band; Beneath the broad and ample bone, That bucklered heart to fear unknown, A feeble and a timorous guest, The field-fare framed her lowly nest; T'here the slow blind-worm left his slime On the fleet limbs that mocked at time; And there, too, lay the leader's skull, Sull wreathed with chaplet, flushed and full, For heath-bell, with her purple bloom, Supplied the bonnet and the plume. Ali'night, in this sad glen, the maid Sate, shrouded in her mantle's shade: She said, no shepherd sought her side, No hunter's hand her snood untied, Yet ne'er again to braid her hair The virgin snood did Alice wear;* Gone was her maiden glee and sport, Her maiden girdle all too short, Nor sought she, from that fatal night, Or holy church, or blessed rite, A cubit's length in measure due; “ Wo to the clansman, who shall view On Alpine's dwelling low! Shall doom him wrath and wo." And first, in murmur low, “Wo to the traitor, wo!” Whilc, with set teeth and clenched hand, XII. The shout was hushed ou lake and fell, A kindred fate shall know; And infamy and wo.” Of curses stammered slow, We doom to want and wo!” A sharp and shrieking echo gave, Coir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave! And the gray pass where birches wave, On Beala-nam-bo. XI. Then deeper paused the priest anew, And bard his labouring breath he drew, Speed, Malise, speed! the dun deer's hide XIV. Nor slacked the messenger his pace; Like the dew on the mountain, He showed the sign, he named the place, Like the foam on the river, And, pressing forward like the wind, Like the bubble on the fountain, Left clamour and surprise behind. Thou art gone, and for ever! The fisherman forsook the strand, XVII. The swarthy smith took dirk and brand; See Stumah,* who, the bier beside, With changed cheer, the mower blith His master's corpse with wonder eyed, Left in the half cut swathe his sithe; Poor Stumah! whom his least halloo The herds without a keeper strayed, Could send like lightning o'er the dew, The plough was in mid-furrow staid, Bristles his crest, and points his ears, The fale'ner tossed his hawk away, As if some stranger step he hears. The hunter left the stag at bay; 'Tis not a mourner's muffled tread, Prompt at the signal of alarms, Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead, Each son of Alpine rushed to arms; But headlong haste, or deadly fear, So swept the tumult and affray Urge the precipitate career. Along the margin of Achray. All stand aghast:-unheeding all, Alas! thou lovely lake! that e'er The hench-man bursts into the hall: Thy banks should echo sounds of fear! Before the dead man's bier he stood, The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep Held forth the cross besmeared with blood; So stilly on thy bosom deep, “ The muster-place is Lanric mead; The lark's blith carol, from the cloud, Speed forth the signal! clansmen, speed!" Seems for the scene too gayly loud. XVIII. Angus, the heir of Duncan's line, Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. Duncraggan's buts appear at last, In haste the stripling to his side And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, His father's dirk and broad-sword tied; Half hidden in the copse so green; But when he saw his mother's eye There mayst thou rest, thy labour done, Watch him in speechless ågony, Their lord shall speed the signal on. Back to her opened arms he fiew, As stoops the hawk upon his prev, Pressed on her lips a fond adieuThe hench-man shot him down the way. “ Alas!” she sobbed, and yet be gone, Wbut woful accents load the gale? And speed thee forth like Duncan's son!” The funeral yell, the female wail! One look he cast upon the bier, A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, Dashed from his eye the gathering tear, A valiant warrior fights no more. Breathed deep, to clear his labouring breast, Who. in the battle or the chase. And tossed aloft his bonnet crest, At Roderick's side shall fill his place? Then, like the high-bred colt, when, freed, Within the hall, where torches' ray First he essays his fire and speed, Supplied the excluded beams of day, He vanished, and o'er moor and moss Lies Duncan on his lowly bier, Sped forward with the fiery cross. And o'er him streams his widow's tear. Suspended was the widow's tear, His stripling son stands mournful dy, While yet his footsteps she could hear; His youngest weeps, but kuows not why; And when she marked the hench-man's eye The village maids and matrons round Wet with unwonted sympathy, The dismal coronach 10 resound. “ Kinsman,” she said, “his race is run, That should have sped thine errand on; The oak has fallen-the sapling bough Is all Duncraggan's shelter now. He is lost to the forest, Yet trust I well, his duty done, Like a summer-dried fountain, The orphan's God will guard my son. And you, in many a danger true, At Duncan's hest your blades that drew, To arms, and guard that orphan's head! But to us comes no cheering, Let babes and women wail the dead.” To Duncan no morrow! Then weapon-clang, and martial call, Resounded through the funeral hall, The hand of the reaper While from the walls the attendant band Tanus me ears that are hoary, Snatched sword and targe, with hurried hand; But the voice of the weeper And short and fitting energy Wails manhood in glory; Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye, The autumn winds rushing As if the sounds, to warrior dear, Waft the leaves that are searest, Might rouse her Duncan from his bier. But our flower was in flushing, But faded soon that borrowed force; When blighting was nearest Grief claimed his right, and tears their course, Fleet foot on the correi, t XIX. Benledi saw the cross of fire, It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire.11 O'er dale and hill the summons flew, • Funeral song. Nor rest nor pause young Angus knews + Or corti-The bollow ride of the bill, whore game wually lies, • Faithful-The name of a dog. |