As far as Coilantogle's ford
From thence thy warrant is thy sword." "I take thy courtesy, by Heaven, As freely as 'tis nobly given!" "Well, rest thee; for the bittern's cry Sings us the lake's wild lullaby." With that he shook the gathered heath,. And spread his plaid upon the wreath, And the brave foemen, side by side, Lay peaceful down like brothers tried, And slept until the dawning beam. Purpled the mountain and the stream.
FAIR as the earliest beam of eastern light, When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied, It smiles upon the dreary brow of night,
And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide, And lights the fearful path on mountain side; Fair as that beam, although the fairest far, Giving to horror grace, to danger pride,
Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star, Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow of war.
That early beam, so fair and sheen,
Was twinkling through the hazel screen When, rousing at its glimmer red, The warriors left their lowly bed, Looked out upon the dappled sky, Muttered their soldier matins by,
And then awaked their fire, to steal, As short and rude, their soldier meal. That o'er, the Gael around him threw His graceful plaid of varied bue, And, true to promise, led the way, By thicket green and mountain grey. A wildering path! they winded now Along the precipice's brow, Commanding the rich scenes beneath, The windings of the Forth and Teith, *And all the vales between that lie, Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky; Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance Gained not the length of horseman's lance. "Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain Assistance from the hand to gain; So tangled oft, that, bursting through, Each hawthorn shed her showers of dewThat diamond dew, so pure and clear, It rivals all but Beauty's tear!
At length they came where, stern and steep, The hill sinks down upon the deep.
Here Vennachar in silver flows,
There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose; Ever the hollow path twined on,
Beneath steep bank and threatening stone; An hundred men might hold the post With hardihood against a host,
The rugged mountain's scanty cloak Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, With shingles bare, and cliffs between, And patches bright of bracken green, And heather black, that waved so high, It held the copse in rivalry,
But where the lake slept deep and still, Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill; And oft both path and hill were torn, Where wintry torrent down had borne, And heaped upon the cumbered land Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. So toilsome was the road to trace, The guide, abating of his pace,
Led slowly through the pass's jaws,
And asked Fitz-James, by what strange causo He sought these wilds, traversed by few
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu?
"Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, Hangs in my belt, and by my side; Yet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said, "I dreamed not now to claim its aid. When here, but three days since, I came, Bewildered in pursuit of game,
All seemed as peaceful and as still, As the mist slumbering on yon hill; Thy dangerous chief was then afar, Nor soon expected back from war.
Thus said, at least, my y mountain guide,
Though deep, perchance, the villain lied." "Yet why a second venture try?" "A warrior thou, and ask me why? Moves our free course by such fixed cause, As gives the poor mechanic laws? Enough, I sought to drive away The lazy hours of peaceful day; Slight cause will then suffice to guide A knight's free footsteps far and wide, A falcon flown, a greyhound strayed, The merry glance of mountain maid; Or, if a path be dangerous known, The danger's self is lure alone."
Thy secret keep, I urge thee nots Yet, ere again ye sought this spot, Say, heard ye nought of lowland war, Against Clan-Alpine raised by Mar?" "No, by my word; of bands prepared To guard King James's sports I heard; Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear This muster of the mountaineer, Their pennons will abroad be flung, Which else in Doune had peaceful hung "Free be they flung!-for we were loth Their silken folds should feast the moth. Free be they flung!-as free shall wave Clan-Alpine's pine in banner brave.
But, stranger, peaceful since you came, Bewildered in the mountain game,
Whence the bold boast by which you show Vich-Alpine's vowed and mortal foe?".
Warrior, but yester-morn I knew
Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, Save as an outlaw'd desperate man, The chief of a rebellious clan,
Who, in the Regent's court and sight, With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight; Yet this alone might from his part Sever each true and loyal heart.”
Wrothful at such arraignment foul, Dark lowered the clansman's sable scowl, A space he paused, then sternly said-
And heard'st thou why he drew his blade? Heard'st thou that shameful word and blow Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe? What reck'd the Chieftain, if he stood On highland heath or Holy-Rood? He rights such wrong where it is given, If it were in the court of Heaven." "Still was it outrage; yet, 'tis true, Not then claimed sovereignty his due; While Albany, with feeble hand, Held borrowed truncheon of command. The young king, mew'd in Stirling tower, Was stranger to respect and power. But then, thy Chieftain's robber life!Winning mean prey by causeless strife, Wrenching from ruin'd lowland swain His herds and harvest reared in vain→→→ Methinks a soul like thine should scorn The spoils from such foul foray borne."
The Gael beheld him grim the while, And answered with disdainful smile "Saxon, from yonder mountain high, I marked thee send delighted eye, Far to the south and east, where lay, Extended in succession gay,
Deep waving fields and pastures green, With gentle slopes and groves between These fertile plains, that softened vale, Were once the birthright of the Gael; The stranger came with iron hand, And from our fathers reft the land. Where dwell we now? See, rudely swell Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. Ask we this savage hill we tread, For fattened steer or household bread; Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, And well the mountain might reply- To you, as to your sires of yore, Belong the target and claymore! I give you shelter in my breast, Your own good blades must win the rest. Pent in this fortress of the North, Think'st thou we, will not sally forth, To spoil the spoiler as we may, And from the robber rend the prey? Ay, by my soul!-While on yon plain The Saxon rears one shock of grain; While, of ten thousand herds, there strays But one along yon river's maze- The Gael, of plain and river he his share. Shall, with strong hand, redeem Where live the mountain chiefs who hold, That plundering lowland field and fold Is ought but retribution true?
Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu."
Answered Fitz-James-"And, if I sought, Think'st thou no other could be brought? What deem ye of my path waylaid, My life given o'er to ambuscade?" "As of a meed to rashness due: Hadst thou sent warning fair and true- I seek my hound, or falcon strayed, I seek, good faith, a Highland maid- Free hadst thou been to come and go; But secret path marks secret foe Nor yet, for this, even as a spy,
Hadst thou, unheard, been dooined to die, Save to fulfil an augury,"
“Well, let it pass; nor will I now
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