(Form of some sainted patroness) Which cloister'd maids combine to dress; She mark'd-and knew her nursling's heart In the vain pomp took little part. The maiden to her anxious breast In finish'd loveliness and led To where a turret's airy head, Slender and steep, and battled round, O'erlook'd, dark Mull! thy mighty Sound, Where thwarting tides, with mingled roar, Part thy swarth hills from Morven's shore. VIII. "Daughter," she said, "these seas behold, Round twice an hundred islands roll'd, From Hirt, that hears their northern roar, To the green Ilay's fertile shore; Or mainland turn, where many a tower Each on its own dark cape reclined, And listening to its own wild wind, From where Mingarry, sternly placed, On equal terms with England's pride.- The damsel dons her best attire, The shepherd lights his beltane fire, Joy, Joy! each warder's horn hath sung, The holy priest says grateful mass, Yet, empress of this joyful day, Edith is sad while all are gay." IX. Proud Edith's soul came to her eye, Make to yon maids thy boast of power, That they may waste a wondering hour, Or, theme more dear, of robes of price," Think'st thou with these to cheat the heart, That, bound in strong affection's chain, Looks for return and looks in vain? No! sum thine Edith's wretched lot In these brief words-He loves her not! X. "Debate it not too long I strove To call his cold observance love, All blinded by the league that styled Ere yet I saw him, while afar His broadsword blazed in Scotland's war, Train'd to believe our fates the same, My bosom throbb'd when Ronald's name Like perfume on the summer gale. Who touch'd the harp to heroes' praise, Was her's but closed with Ronald's name. He came and all that had been told Of his high worth seem'd poor and cold, Tame, lifeless, void of energy, Unjust to Ronald and to me! XI. "Since then, what thought had Edith's heart And gave not plighted love its part!- B |