He had an eye, and he could heed,
Ever sing warily, warily;
He had a foot, and he could speed-
Hunters watch so narrowly "
Fitz-James's mind was passion-toss'd,
When Ellen's hints and fears were lost,
'But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought,
And Blanche's song conviction brought.-
Not like a stag that spies the snare,
But lion of the hunt aware,
He waved at once his blade on high,
"Disclose thy treachery or die !"—
Forth at full speed the Clans-man flew,
But in his race his bow he drew,
The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest,
And thrill'd in Blanche's faded breast.-
Murdoch of Alpine! prove thy speed,
For ne'er had Alpine's son such need!
With heart of fire, and foot of wind,
The fierce avenger is behind!
Fate judges of the rapid strife-
The forfeit death-the prize is life!
Thy kindred ambush lies before,
Close couch'd upon the heathery moor;
Them couldst thou reach!-it may not be-
Thine ambush'd kin thou ne'er shalt see,
The fiery Saxon gains on thee!
-Resistless speeds the deadly thrust,
As lightning strikes the pine to dust;
With foot and hand Fitz-James must strain,
Ere he can win his blade again.
Bent o'er the fall'n, with falcon eye,
He grimly smiled to see him die;
Then slower wended back his way,
Where the poor maiden bleeding lay.
She sate beneath the birchen tree,
Her elbow resting on her knee;
She had withdrawn the fatal shaft,
And gazed on it, and feebly laugh'd;
Her wreath of broom and feathers grey,
Daggled with blood, beside her lay.
The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried,-
Stranger, it is in vain !" she cried.
"This hour of death has given me more
Of reason's power than years before;
For, as these ebbing veins decay,
My frenzied visions fade away.
A helpless injured wretch I die,
And something tells me in thine eye,
That thou wert mine avenger born.—
See'st thou this tress ?-O! still I've worn
This little tress of yellow hair,
Through danger, frenzy, and despair!
It once was bright and clear as thine,
But blood and tears have dimm'd its shine.
I will not tell thee when 'twas shred,
Nor from what guiltless victim's head-
My brain would turn !—but it shall wave
Like plumage on thy helmet brave,
Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain.
And thou wilt bring it me again.-
I waver still-O God! more bright
Let reason beam her parting light!—
O! by thy knighthood's honour'd sign,
And for thy life preserved by mine,
When thou shalt see a darksome man,
Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's clan,
With tartans broad, and shadowy plume,
And hand of blood, and brow of gloom,
Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong,
And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wrong!-
They watch for thee by pass and fell....
Avoid the path.... O God!.... farewell.”—
A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James;
Fast pour'd his eyes at pity's claims,
And now, with mingled grief and ire,
He saw the murder'd maid expire.
"God, in my need, be my relief,
As I wreak this on yonder Chief!"—
A lock from Blanche's tresses fair
He blended with her bridegroom's hair;
The mingled braid in blood he dyed,
And placed it on his bonnet side:
By Him whose word is truth! I swear, No other favour will I wear,
Till this sad token I imbrue
In the best blood of Roderick Dhu
-But hark! what means yon faint halloo ? The chase is up,-but they shall know, The stag at bay's a dangerous foe."Barr'd from the known but guarded way Through copse and cliffs Fitz-James must strag And oft must change his desperate track, By stream and precipice turn'd back. Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length, From lack of food and loss of strength, ile couch'd him in a thicket hoar, And thought his toils and perils o'er :"Of all my rash adventures past, This frantic feat must prove the last! Who e'er so mad but might have guess'd That all this Highland hornets' nest Would muster up in swarms so soon As e'er they heard of bands at Doune ?→→→ Like blood-hounds now they search me out, Hark to the whistle and the shout!
If farther through the wilds I go,
I only fall upon the foe;
I'll couch me here till evening grey,
Then darkling try my dangerous way."
The shades of eve come slowly down,
The woods are wrapp'd in deeper brown,
The owl awakens from her dell,
The fox is heard upon the fell;
Enough remains of glimmering light
To guide the wanderer's steps aright,
Yet not enough from far to show
His figure to the watchful foe.
With cautious step, and ear awake,
He climbs the crag and threads the brake:
And not the summer solstice, there,
Temper'd the midnight mountain air,
But every breeze, that swept the wold,
Benumb'd his drenched limbs with cold.
In dread, in danger, and alone,
Famish'd and chill'd, through ways unknown,
Tangled and steep, he journey'd on;
Till, as a rock's huge point he turn'd,
A watch-fire close before him burn'd.
Beside its embers red and clear,
Bask'd, in his plaid, a mountaineer;
And up he sprung, with sword in hand,—
Thy name and purpose! Saxon, stand !”—
"A stranger."-"What dost thou require ?" "Rest and a guide, and food and fire. My life's beset, my path is lost,
The gale has chill'd my limbs with frost.""Art thou a friend to Roderick ?"- -"No.""Thou dar'st not call thyself a foe ?" "I dare! to him and all the band He brings to aid his murderous hand." "Bold words!-but, though the beast of game The privilege of chase may claim,
Though space and law the stag we lend
Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend,
Who ever reck'd, where, how, or when,
The prowling fox was trapp'd or slain?
Thus treacherous scouts,-yet sure they lie,
Who say thou cam'st a secret spy!"-
'They do, by Heaven!--Come Roderick Dhu, And of his clan the boldest two,
And let me but till morning rest,
I write the falsehood on their crest.""If by the blaze I mark aright,
Thou bear'st the belt and spur of knight." "Then by these tokens may'st thou know Each proud oppressor's mortal foe."
Enough, enough; sit down and share A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare."
He gave him of his Highland cheer,
The harden'd flesh of mountain deer
Dry fuel on the fire he laid,
And bade the Saxon share his plaid.
He tended him like welcome guest,
Then thus his further speech address'd
66 Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu
A clans-man born, a kinsman true;
Each word against his honour spoke
Demands of me avenging stroke;
Yet more,-upon thy fate, 'tis said,
A mighty augury is laid.
It rests with me to wind my horn,-
Thou art with numbers overborne;
It rests with me, here, brand to brand,
Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand:
But, not for clan, nor kindred's cause,
Will I depart from honour's laws;
To assail a wearied man were shame,
And stranger is a holy name;
Guidance and rest, and food and fire.
In vain he never must require.
Then rest thee here till dawn of day;
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