Until the mountain-maiden showed

A clambering unsuspected road,

That winded through the tangled screen,
And opened on a narrow green,

Where weeping birch and willow round
With their long fibres swept the ground;

Here, for retreat in dangerous hour,

Some chief had framed a rustic bower.

XXVI.

It was a lodge of ample size,

But strange of structure and device;

Of such materials, as around

The workman's hand had readiest found.

Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared,

And by the hatchet rudely squared,

To give the walls their destined height,

The sturdy oak and ash unite;

While moss and clay and leaves combined

To fence each crevice from the wind.

The lighter pine-trees, over-head,

Their slender length for rafters spread,

And withered heath and rushes dry

Supplied a russet canopy.

Due westward, fronting to the green,

A rural portico was seen,

Aloft on native pillars borne,

Of mountain fir with bark unshorn,

Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine

The ivy and Idæan vine,

The clematis, the favoured flower,

Which boasts the name of virgin-bower,

And every hardy plant could bear
Loch-Katrine's keen and searching air.

An instant in this porch she staid,
And gaily to the Stranger said,
"On heaven and on thy lady call,
And enter the enchanted hall !".

XXVII.

"My hope, my heaven, my trust must be,

My gentle guide, in following thee."
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:

A target there, a bugle here,

A battle-axe, a hunting spear,

And broad-swords, bows, and arrows store,

With the tusked trophies of the boar.

Here grins the wolf as when he died,

And there the wild-cat's brindled hide

D

The frontlet of the elk adorns,

Or mantles o'er the bison's horns;

Pennons and flags defaced and stained,

That blackening streaks of blood retained,
And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and white,
With otter's fur and seal's unite,

In rude and uncouth tapestry all,

To garnish forth the sylvan hall.

XXVIII.

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.

And as the brand he poised and swayed,

"I never knew but one," he said,

"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, ban

As in my grasp a hazel wand;

My sire's tall form might grace the part

Of Ferragus, or Ascabart;

But in the absent giant's hold

Are women now,

and menials old.".

XXIX.

The mistress of the mansion came,

Mature of age, a graceful dame;

Whose easy step and stately port

Had well become a princely court,

To whom, though more than kindred knew,

Young Ellen gave a mother's due.

Meet welcome to her guest she made,

And

every courteous rite was paid,

That hospitality could claim,

Though all unasked his birth and name.

Such then the reverence to a guest,

That fellest foe might join the feast,..