THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO FOURTH. The Prophecy. I. 66 THE rose is fairest when 'tis budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears; The rose is sweetest wash'd with morning dew, And love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears. O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave, What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad wave. II. Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood, Hark! on the rock a footstep rung, And instant to his arms he sprung. 66 Stand, or thou diest !-What, Malise?-soon Art thou return'd from Braes of Doune. On distant scout had Malise gone.) "Where sleeps the Chief?" the hench-man said. 66 Apart, in yonder misty glade; To his lone couch I'll be your guide.” Then call'd a slumberer by his side, And stirr'd him with his slacken'd bow Up, up, Glentarkin! rouse thee, ho! We seek the Chieftain; on the track, Keep eagle watch till I come back." III. Together up the pass they sped: "What of the foemen?" Norman said.- Varying reports from near and far ; This certain, that a band of war Has for two days been ready boune, At prompt command, to march from Doune; Soon will this dark and gathering cloud Enured to bide such bitter bout, The warrior's plaid may bear it out; 66 What! know ye not that Roderick's care To the lone isle hath caused repair Each maid and matron of the clan, That such dear pledge may rest secure ?”. IV. 'Tis well advised-the Chieftain's plan Bespeaks the father of his clan. But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu Brian an augury hath tried, Of that dread kind which must not be Unless in dread extremity, The Taghairm call'd; by which, afar, Our sires foresaw the events of war. |