That Highland halls were open still
To wildered wanderers of the hill: 48
"Nor think you unexpected come
To yon lone isle, our desert home;
Before the heath had lost the dew,
This morn, a couch was pulled for you.
"Now, by the rood, my lovely maid,50
Your courtesy has erred," he said;
“No right have I to claim, misplaced,
The welcome of expected guest.
A wanderer here, by fortune tost,
My way, my friends, my courser lost,
I ne'er before, believe me, Fair,51
Have ever drawn your mountain air,
Till on this lake's romantic strand,
1 found a fay in fairy land."____52

66

I well believe," the maid replied,
As her light skiff approached the side,
"I well believe that ne'er before

Your foot has trod Loch Katrine's shore;

49

220

230

But yet, as far as yesternight,

Old Allan-bane foretold your plight.

He bade that all should ready be,

240

To grace a guest of fair degree;
But light I held his prophecy,

And deemed it was my father's horn

Whose echoes o'er the lake were borne."

[The stranger accompanies the maid to the island. In the centre of it, deep-hidden by the trees, there is a large rustic lodge, framed by some chief for retreat in dangerous hour.]

He crossed the threshold-and a clang

Of angry steel that instant rang.

To his bold brow his spirit rushed;
But soon for vain alarm he blushed,
When on the floor he saw displayed,
Cause of the din, a naked blade

Dropped from the sheath, that, careless flung,
Upon a stag's huge antlers swung:
For all around, the walls to grace,
Hung trophies of the fight or chase.

The wondering stranger round him gazed,
And next the fallen weapon raised;-
Few were the arms whose sinewy strength
Sufficed to stretch it forth at length.53
And as the brand he poised and swayed,
66 I never knew but one," he said,

250

260

"Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield
A blade like this in battle-field."-

She sighed, then smiled and took the word: "You see the guardian champion's sword ;As light it trembles in his hand,

As in my grasp a hazel wand:

My sire's tall form might grace the part
Of Ferragus or Ascabart; 54
But in the absent giant's hold

Are women now, and menials old."——
The mistress of the mansion came,
Mature of age, a graceful dame ;55
Whose easy step and stately port
Had well become a princely court;

To whom, though more than kindred knew,56
Young Ellen gave a mother's due.

270

At length his rank the stranger names,

"The Knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz-James; Lord of a barren heritage,

280

Which his brave sires, from age to age,
By their good swords had held with toil:
His sire had fallen in such turmoil;
And he, God wot, was forced to stand 57
Oft for his right with blade in hand.
This morning, with Lord Moray's train,
He chased a stalwart stag in vain,
Out-stripped his comrades, missed the deer,
Lost his good steed, and wandered here.”.
Fain would the knight in turn require
The name and state of Ellen's sire;
Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave
Dame Margaret heard with silence grave;
Or Ellen, innocently gay,
Turned all inquiry light away:
"Weird women we! by dale and down 58
We dwell, afar from tower and town.
We stem the flood, we ride the blast,
On wandering knights our spells we cast."

The hall was cleared-the stranger's bed
Was there of mountain heather spread,
Where oft an hundred guests had lain,
And dreamed their forest sports again.
But vainly did the heath-flower shed
Its moorland fragrance round his head.
In broken dreams the image rose
Of varied perils, pains, and woes:
His steed now flounders in the brake,59
Now sinks his barge upon the lake;
Now leader of a broken host,

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300

310

His standard falls, his honour's lost.

At length, with Ellen in a grove
He seemed to walk, and speak of love;
She listened with a blush and sigh,-
His suit was warm, his hopes were high.
He sought her yielded hand to clasp,
And a cold gauntlet met his grasp:
The phantom's sex was changed and gone,
Upon its head a helmet shone ;

Slowly enlarged to giant size,60

320

With darkened cheek and threatening eyes,
The grisly visage, stern and hoar,

To Ellen still a likeness bore.

He woke, and, panting with affright,
Recalled the vision of the night.

The hearth's decaying brands were red,
And deep and dusky lustre shed,
Half showing, half concealing all
The uncouth trophies of the hall.

'Mid those the stranger fixed his eye

330

Where that huge falchion hung on high;

And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng,

Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along;
Until, the giddy whirl to cure,

He rose and sought the moonshine pure.
The wild-rose, eglantine, and broom,
Wasted around their rich perfume;
The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm,
The aspens slept beneath the calmn;
The silver light, with quivering glance,
Played on the water's still expanse ;-
Wild were the heart whose passions' sway 61
Could rage beneath the sober ray!
He felt its calm, that warrior guest,

While thus he communed with his breast:
"Why is it, at each turn, I trace
Some memory of that exiled race?
Can I not mountain-maiden spy,
But she must bear the Douglas eye? 62
Can I not view a Highland brand,
But it must match the Douglas hand!
Can I not frame a fevered dream,
But still the Douglas is the theme?--
I'll dream no more!-by manly mind
Not even in sleep is will resigned.
My midnight orisons said o'er,63
I'll turn to rest, and dream no more."-
His midnight orisons he told,
A prayer with every bead of gold,

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350

FITZ-JAMES takes his leave in the morning, guided by a trusty Highlander. In a short time four barges, bearing Roderick Dhu and his followers, approach the island. While they are landing, Ellen hears her father's bugle on the shore, and sets off in her skiff to meet him. He is accompanied by her lover, Malcolm Græme. Arrived in the island, they pass the morning in talk and sport; but at noon a messenger brings tidings to Roderick that the King, having subdued the Border chieftains, is preparing to attack the Highland freebooters, especially those amongst whom the outlawed Douglas was believed to be concealed. Douglas proposes to withdraw with his daughter, and counsels Roderick to submit to the King. Roderick demands the hand of Ellen, and the alliance of Douglas against the King. Douglas refuses both. Roderick quarrels with Græme, being jealous of the favour which Ellen shows him. Bloodshed is prevented by the interposition of Douglas. But Græme is ordered to leave the island; which, disdaining the offer of his enemy's boat, he does by swimming to the mainland.

Ar morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing,
'Tis morning prompts the linnet's blithest lay,-

All Nature's children feel the matin spring
Of life reviving, with reviving day;1

And while yon little bark glides down the bay,
Wafting the stranger on his way again,
Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel grey,2

And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain,

Mix'd with the sounding harp, O white-haired Allan-bane !

[The minstrel sings a farewell to the stranger. Ellen sits by his side. They have much talk of the family misfortunes, of Fitz-James, Malcolm Grame, and Roderick Dhu. Ellen vows that she will never marry Roderick, as she will not marry whom she does not love. Their converse is interrupted by the sound of the distant pibroch.]

Now might you see the tartans brave,7
And plaids and plumage dance and wave ;
Now see the bonnets sink and rise,
As his tough oar the rower plies;
See, flashing at each sturdy stroke,
The wave ascending into smoke;
See the proud pipers on the bow,
And mark the gaudy streamers flow
From their loud chanters down, and sweep9
The furrowed bosom of the deep,
As, rushing through the lake amain,
They plied the ancient Highland strain.
Ever, as on they bore, more loud
And louder rung the pibroch proud.10
At first the sound, by distance tame,
Mellowed along the waters came,
And, lingering long by cape and bay,
Wailed every harsher note away;

Then bursting bolder on the ear,

The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear,-11
Those thrilling sounds, that call the might
Of old Clan-Alpine to the fight.

Thick beat the rapid notes as when
The mustering hundreds shake the glen,
And, hurrying at the signal dread,

12

The battered earth returns their tread.
Then prelude light, of livelier tone,
Expressed their merry marching on,
Ere peal of closing battle rose,
With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows;
And mimic din of stroke and ward,"
As broadsword upon target jarred;
And groaning pause, ere yet again,
Condensed, the battle yelled amain;
The rapid charge, the rallying shout,
Retreat borne headlong into rout,
And bursts of triumph, to declare
Clan-Alpine's conquest-all were there.
Nor ended thus the strain; but slow,
Sunk in a moan prolonged and low,
And changed the conquering clarion-swell,
For wild lament o'er those that fell.

The war-pipes ceased, but lake and hill
Were busy with their echoes still;
And, when they slept, a vocal strain
Bade their hoarse chorus wake again,
While loud a hundred clansmen raise
Their voices in their Chieftain's praise.