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DOUGLAS AND HIS DAUGHTER FAIR, SOUGHT, FOR A SPACE, THEIR SAFETY. THERE.

To drown his love in war's wild roar, Nor think of Ellen Douglas more: But he who stems a stream with sand, And fetters flame with flaxen band, Has yet a harder task to proveBy firm resolve to conquer love! Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost, Still hovering near his treasure lost; For though his haughty heart deny A parting meeting to his eye, Still fondly strains his anxious ear The accents of her voice to hear, And inly did he curse the breeze That waked to sound the rustling trees. But, hark! what mingles in the strain? It is the harp of Allan-bane,

That wakes its measures slow and high, Attuned to sacred minstrelsy.

What melting voice attends the strings? "Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings!

XXIX.

HYMN TO THE VIRGIN.

Ave Maria! maiden mild!
Listen to a maiden's prayer;
Thou canst hear though from the wild,
Thou canst save amidst despair.
Safe may we sleep beneath thy care,
Though banished, outcast, and reviled-
Maiden, hear a maiden's prayer!
Mother, hear a suppliant child!

Ave Maria

undefiled!

Ave Maria!

The flinty couch we now must share,
Shall seem with down of eider piled,
If thy protection hover there.

The murky cavern's heavy air

Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled; Then, Maiden, hear a maiden's prayer! Mother, list a suppliant child!

Ave Maria

Ave Maria! Stainless styled!
Foul demons of the earth and air,

From this their wonted haunt exiled,

Shall flee before thy presence fair.

We bow us to our lot of care, Beneath thy guidance reconciled; Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer! And for a father hear a child!

XXX.

Ave Maria!

Died on the harp the closing hymn-
Unmoved in attitude and limb,
As listening still Clan-Alpine's lord
Stood leaning on his heavy sword,
Until the page, with humble sign,
Twice pointed to the sun's decline.
Then, while his plaid he round him cast,
"It is the last time-'tis the last"-
He muttered thrice-"the last time e'er
That angel voice shall Roderick hear!"-
It was a goading thought-his stride
Hied hastier down the mountain side;
Sullen he flung him in the boat,
And instant cross the lake it shot.
They landed in that silvery bay,
And eastward held their hasty way,
Till, with the latest beams of light,
The band arrived on Lanrick height,
Where mustered in the vale below,
Clan-Alpine's men in martial show.

XXXI

A various scene the 'clansmen made,
Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed;
But most, with mantles folded round,
Were couched to rest upon the ground,
Scarce to be known by curious eye,
From the deep heather where they lie,
So well was matched the tartan screen
With heath-bell dark and brackens green;
Unless where, here and there, a blade,
Or lance's point, a glimmer made,
Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade.
But, when, advancing through the gloom,
They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume,
Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide,
Shook the steep mountain's steady side.
Thrice it arose, and lake and fell
Three times returned the martial yell.
It died upon Bochastle's plain,

And Silence claimed her evening reign.

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