Who danced our infancy upon their knee, And told our marvelling boy-hood legends store, Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea, How are they blotted from the things that be! How few, all weak and wither'd of their force, Wait, on the verge of dark eternity, Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse, To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his ceaseless course. Yet live there still who can remember well, How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew, Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell, And solitary heath, the signal knew ; And fast the faithful clan around him drew, What time the warning note was keenly wound, What time aloft their kindred banner flew, While clamorous war-pipes yell'd the gathering sound, And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor, round. II. The summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Loch-Katrine blue ; In bright uncertainty they lie, Like future joys to Fancy's eye. Her chalice rear'd of silver bright; The doe awoke, and to the lawn, The lark sent down her revelry ; Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. III. No thought of peace, no thought of rest, Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. With sheathed broad-sword in his hand, Abrupt he paced the islet strand, And eyed the rising sun, and laid His hand on his impatient blade. Beneath a rock, his vassals' care Was prompt the ritual to prepare, With deep and deathful meaning fraught; For such Antiquity had taught Was preface meet, ere yet abroad The Cross of Fire should take its road. The shrinking band stood oft aghast She spread her dark sails on the wind, Silenced the warblers of the brake. IV. A heap of wither'd boughs was piled, Of juniper and rowan wild, Mingled with shivers from the oak, His naked arms and legs, seam'd o'er, But Druid's, from the grave released, On human sacrifice to look; And much, 'twas said, of heathen lore Mix'd in the charms he mutter'd o'er The hallow'd creed gave only worse And deadlier emphasis of curse; |