THE

LADY OF THE LAKE.

CANTO THIRD.

The Gathering.

CANTO THIRD.

The Gathering.

TIME rolls his ceaseless course.

The race of yore

Who danced our infancy upon their knee, And told our marvelling boyhood 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 withered 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 yelled 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;
Mildly and soft the western breeze

Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees,
And the pleased lake, like maiden coy,
Trembled but dimpled not for joy;

The mountain shadows on her breast
Were neither broken nor at rest;
In bright uncertainty they lie,
Like future joys to fancy's eye.
The water-lily to the light

Her chalice rear'd of silver bright;

The doe awoke, and to the lawn,

Begemmed with dewdrops, led her fawn; The gray mist left the mountain side, The torrent shewed its glistening pride; Invisible in flecked sky,

The lark sent down her revelry;

The blackbird and the speckled thrush Good-morrow gave from brake and bush; In answer cooed the cushet dove,

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 broadsword 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

At the impatient glance he cast;