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THE

LORD OF THE ISLES.

CANTO SIXTH.

TAE

LORD OF THE ISLES.

CANTO SIXTH.

WHO, that shared them, ever shall forget,

The emotions of the spirit-rousing time,
When breathless in the mart the couriers mety,

Early and late, at evening and at prime;
When the loud cannon and the merry chime

Hail'd news on news, as field on field was won, When Hope, long doubtful, soar'd at length sublime,

And our glad eyes, awake as day begun, Watch'd Joy's broad banner rise, to meet the rising sun ! O these were hours, when thrilling joy repaid

A long, long course of darkness, doubts, and fears ! The heart-sick faintness of the hope delay'd,

The waste, the woe, the bloodshed, and the tears, That track'd with terror twenty rolling years,

All was forgot in that blithe jubilee !.
Her down-cast eye even pale Affliction rears,

To sigh a thankful prayer, amid the glee,
That hail'd the Despot's fall, and peace and liberty !

Such news o'er Scotland's hills triumphant rode,

When 'gainst the invaders turn'd the battle's scale, When Bruce's banner had victorious flow'd

O’er Loudoun's mountain, and in Ury's vale ; When English blood oft deluged Douglas-dale,

And fiery Edward routed stout St John, When Randolph's war-cry swell'd the southern gale,

And many a fortress, town, and tower, was won, And Fame still sounded forth fresh deeds of glory done.

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Blithe tidings flew from Baron's tower,
To peasant's cot, to forest-bower,
And waked the solitary cell,
Where lone Saint Bride's recluses dwell.
Princess no more, fair Isabel,

A votress of the order now,
Say, did the rule that bid thee wear
Dim veil and woollen scapulare,
And reft thy locks of dark-brown hair,

That stern and rigid vow,
Did it condemn the transport high,
Which glisten'd in thy watery eye,
When minstrel or when palmer told
Each fresh exploit of Bruce the bold ?---
And whose the lovely form, that shares
Thy anxious hopes, thy fears, thy prayers ?
No sister she of convent shade;

So say these locks in lengthen'd braid,

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