"The bark thou saw'st, yon summer morn,

So gaily part from Oban's bay,

My eye beheld her dashed and torn,

Far on the rocky Colonsay.

Thy Fergus too-thy sister's son,

Thou saw'st, with pride, the gallant's power,
As marching 'gainst the lord of Downe,
He left the skirts of huge Benmore.

"Thou only saw'st their tartans* wave,
As down Benvoirlich's side they wound,
Heard'st but the pibroch,+ answering brave
To many a target clanking round.

* Tartans-The full Highland dress, made of the chequered stuff so termed.

+ Pibroch-A piece of martial music, adapted to the Highland bag-pipe.

"I heard the groans, I marked the tears,

I saw the wound his bosom bore,

When on the serried Saxon spears
He poured his clan's resistless roar.

"And thou, who bid'st me think of bliss, And bid'st my heart awake to glee,

And court, like thee, the wanton kiss,—

That heart, O Ronald, bleeds for thee!

"I see the death-damps chill thy brow;

I hear thy Warning Spirit cry;

The corpse-lights dance-they're gone, and now...!

No more is given to gifted eye!”

"Alone enjoy thy dreary dreams,

Sad prophet of the evil hour!

Say, should we scorn joy's transient beams,
Because to-morrow's storm may lour?

2

"Or false, or sooth, thy words of woe,

Clangillian's chieftain ne'er shall fear; His blood shall bound at rapture's glow, Though doomed to stain the Saxon spear.

"E'en now, to meet me in yon dell,

My Mary's buskins brush the dew."He spoke, nor bade the Chief farewell,

But called his dogs, and gay withdrew.

Within an hour returned each hound;
In rushed the rousers of the deer;
They howled in melancholy sound,
Then closely couch beside the Seer.

No Ronald yet; though midnight came,
And sad were Moy's prophetic dreams,
As, bending o'er the dying flame,

He fed the watch-fire's quivering gleams.

Sudden the hounds erect their ears,

And sudden cease their moaning howl; Close pressed to Moy, they mark their fears By shivering limbs, and stifled growl..

Untouched, the harp began to ring,
As softly, slowly, oped the door;

And shook responsive every string,
As light a footstep pressed the floor.

And, by the watch-fire's glimmering light, Close by the Minstrel's side was seen

An huntress maid, in beauty bright,

All dropping wet her robes of

green.

All dropping wet her garments seem;
Chill'd was her cheek, her bosom bare,

As, bending o'er the dying gleam,
She wrung the moisture from her hair.

With maiden blush she softly said,

"O gentle huntsman, hast thou seen, In deep Glenfinlas' moonlight glade, A lovely maid in vest of green:

"With her a chief in Highland pride;
His shoulders bear the hunter's bow,

The mountain dirk adorns his side,
Far on the wind his tartans flow ?”

"And who art thou? and who are they?" All ghastly gazing, Moy replied: "And why, beneath the moon's pale ray, Dare ye thus roam Glenfinlas' side?”

"Where wild Loch Katrine pours her tide, Blue, dark, and deep, round many an isle, Our father's towers o'erhang her side,

The castle of the bold Glengyle.