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Questions three, when he speaks the spell,

All those idle thoughts and phantasies, lle may ask, and she must tell.

Devices, dreams, opinions unsound,

Shows, visions, soothsays, and prophecies, The Baron has been with King Robert his liege, And all that feigned is, as leasings, tales, and lies These three long years in battle and siege ;

Chap. xii. News are there none of his weal or his woe, And fain the Lady his fate would know.


She shudders and stops as the charm she speaks ;-
Is it the moody owl that shrieks?
Or is that sound, betwixt laughter and scream,

(9.)—FLORA MACIVOR'S SONG. The voice of the Demon who haunts the stream ?

“FLORA had exchanged the measured and monoto. The moan of the wind sunk silent and low,

nous recitative of the bard for a lofty and uncommon And the roaring torrent had ceased to flow;

Highland air, which had been a battle-song in former The calm was more dreadful than raging storm,

ages. A few irregular strains introduced a prelude When the cold grey mist brought the ghastly form of a wild and peculiar tone, which harmonized well

with the distant water-fall, and the soft sigh of the Chap. xiii.

evening breeze in the rustling leaves of an aspen which overhung the seat of the fair harpress. The following verses convey but little idea of the feelings with which,

so sung and accompanied, they were heard by Waver. (7.)-DAVIE GELLATLEY'S SONG. ley:" “ The next day Edward arose betimes, and in a There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale, morning walk around the house and its vicinity, came But more dark is the sleep of the sons of the Gael. suddenly upon a small court in front of the dog-kennel, A stranger commanded-it sunk on the land, where his friend Davie was employed about his four- It has frozen each heart, and benumb'd every band ! footed charge. One quick glance of his eye recognized Waverley, when, instantly turning his back, as if he The dirk and the target lie sordid with dust, had not observed him, he began to sing part of an The bloodless claymore is but redden'd with rust; old ballad.”

On the hill or the glen if a gun should appear,

It is only to war with the heath-cock or deer.
Young men will love thee more fair and more fast;
Heard ye so merry the little bird sing?

The deeds of our sires if our bards should rehearse, Old men's love the longest will last,

Let a blush or a blow be the meed of their verse ! And the throstle-cock's head is under his wing.

Be mute every string, and be hush'd every tone,

That shall bid us remember the fame that is flown. The young man's wrath is like light straw on fire; Heard ye so merry the little bird sing ?

But the dark hours of night and of slumber are past, But like red-hot steel is the old man's ire,

The morn on our mountains is dawning at last; And the throstle-cock's head is under his wing.

Glenaladale's peaks are illumed with the rays,

And the streams of Glenfinnan leap bright in the The young man will brawl at the evening board;

blaze. Heard ye so merry the little bird sing? But the old man will draw at the dawning the sword, 0 high-minded Moray !—the exiled—the dear ! And the throstle-cock's head is under his wing.

In the blush of the dawning the STANDARD uprear!

Wide, wide on the winds of the north let it fly, [The song has allusion to the Baron of Braidwar- Like the sun's latest flash when the tempest is nigh ! dine's personal encounter with Balmawhapple early next morning, after the evening quarrel betwixt the Ye sons of the strong, when that dawning shall breaky latter and Waverley.]

Need the harp of the aged remind you to wake ?
Chap. xiv.

That dawn never beam'd on your forefathers' eye,
But it roused each high chieftain to vanquish or die.



O sprung from the Kings who in Islay kept state,
Proud chiefs of Clan-Ranald, Glengary, and Sleat !
Combine like three streams from one mountain of

And resistless in union rush down on the fce,

“ Tais anecdote led into a long discussion of,"

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True son of Sir Evan, undaunted Lochiel,
Place thy targe on thy shoulder and burnish thy steel ! (10.)-LINES ON CAPTAIN WOGAN.
Rough Keppoch, give breath to thy bugle’s bold swell,
Till far Coryarrick resound to the knell !

“ The letter from the Chief contained Flora's lines

on the fate of Captain Wogan, whose enterprising Stern son of Lord Kenneth, high chief of Kintail, character is so well drawn by Clarendon. He had Let the stag in thy standard bound wild in the gale! originally engaged in the service of the Parliament, but May the race of Clan-Gillian, the fearless and free, had abjured that party upon the execution of Charles Remember Glenlivat, Harlaw, and Dundee !

I.; and upon hearing that the royal standard was set

up by the Earl of Glencairn and General Middleton Let the clan of grey Fingon, whose offspring has given in the Highlands of Scotland, took leave of Charles II., Such heroes to earth, and such martyrs to heaven, who was then at Paris, passed into England, assembled Unite with the race of renown'd Rorri More, a body of cavaliers in the neighbourhood of London, To launch the long galley, and stretch to the oar! and traversed the kingdom, which had been so long

under domination of the usurper, by marches con-
How Mac-Shimei will joy when their chief shall display ducted with such skill, dexterity, and spirit, that he
The yew-crested bonnet o'er tresses of grey! safely united his handful of horsemen with the body
How the race of wrong'd Alpine and murder'd Glencoe of Highlanders then in arms. After several months
Shall shout for revenge when they pour on the foe! of desultory warfare, in which Wogan's skill and

courage gained him the highest reputation, he had
Ye sons of brown Dermid, who slew the wild boar, the misfortune to be wounded in a dangerous man-
Resume the pure faith of the great Callum-More ! ner, and no surgical assistance being within reach, he
Mac-Niel of the Islands, and Moy of the Lake, terminated his short but glorious career.”
For honour, for freedom, for vengeance awake! The Verses were inscribed,

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year 1718.

Yet who, in Fortune's summer-shine

upon the oars of a galley, and which is therefore distinct To waste life's longest term away,

from the ordinary jorrams, or boat-songs. They were Would change that glorious dawn of thine, composed by the Family Bard upon the departure of Though darken'd ere its noontide day?

the Earl of Seaforth, who was obliged to take refuge in

Spain, after an unsuccessful effort at insurrection in Be thine the Tree whose dauntless boughs favour of the Stuart family, in the

Brave summer's drought and winter's gloom! Rome bound with oak her patriots' brows, FAREWELL to Mackenneth, great Earl of the North, As Albyn shadows Wogan's tomb.

The Lord of Lochcarron, Glenshiel, and Seaforth;
Chap. xxix.

To the Chieftain this morning his course who begal.,
Launching forth on the billows his bark like a swan

For a far foreign land he has hoisted his sail, (11.)-“ FOLLOW ME, FOLLOW ME.”

Farewell to Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail ! * "Who are dead?' said Waverley, forgetting the incapacity of Davie to hold any connected discourse. O swift be the galley, and hardy her crew,

“ Baron-and Baillie--and Sanders Sanderson, May her captain be skilful, her mariners true, and Lady Rose, that sang sae sweet-A' dead and in danger undaunted, unwearied by toil, gane-dead and gane, (said Davie)

Though the whirlwind should rise, and the ocean

should boil : But follow, follow me,

On the brave vessel's gunnel I drank his bonail, While glow-worms light the lea,

And farewell to Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail! I'll show ye where the dead should beEach in his shroud,

Awake in thy chamber, thou sweet southland gale! While winds pipe loud,

Like the sighs of his people, breathe soft on his sail; And the red moon peeps dim through the cloud. Be prolong'd as regret, that his vassals must know,

Be fair as their faith, and sincere as their woe: Follow, follow me;

Be so soft, and so fair, and so faithful, sweet gale, Brave should he be

Wafting onward Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail ! That treads by the night the dead man's lea."

Chap. Ixiii.

Be his pilot experienced, and trusty, and wise,
To measure the seas and to study the skies:
May he hoist all his canvass from streamer to decli,

But 0! crowd it higher when wafting him back-
The author of WWaverley?

Till the cliffs of Skooroora, and Conan's glad vale, [“ I am not able to give the exact date of the follow- Shall welcome Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail ! ing reply to one of John Ballantyne's expostulations on the subject of the secret:Life, vol. iv., p. 179.]

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The original verses are arranged to a beautiful Gaelic And shalt thou then sleep, did the Minstrel exclaim,

air, of which the chorus is adapted to the double pull Like the son of the lowly, unnoticed by fame?

1 Bonail, or Bonallez, the old Scottish phrase for a feast at He was a nobleman of extraordinary talents, who must have parting with a friend.

made for himself a lasting reputation, had not his political ex2 These verses were written shortly after the death of Lord ertions been checked by the painful natural infirmities alluded Seaforth, the last male representative of his illustrious house. to in the fourth st nza.-See Life of Scott, vol. v., pp. 18, 19

No, son of Fitzgerald: in accents of woe,

Clan-Gilliano is to ocean gone
The song thou hast loved o'er thy coffin shall flow, Clan-Gillian, fierce in foray known;
And teach thy wild mountains to join in the wail

Rejoicing in the glory won
That laments for Mackenzie, last Chief of Kintail.

In many a bloody broil:

For wide is heard the thundering fray,
In vair, the bright course of thy talents to wrong, The rout, the ruin, the dismay,
Fate deaden'd thine ear and imprison'd thy tongue; When from the twilight glens away
For brighter o’er all her obstructions arose

Clan-Gillian drives the spoil.
The glow of the genius they could not oppose;
And who in the land of the Saxon or Gael,

Woe to the hills that shall rebound
Might match with Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail ? Our banner'd bag-pipes' maddening sound;

Clan-Gillian's onset echoing round, Thy sons rose around thee in light and in love,

Shall shake their inmost cell. All a father could hope, all a friend could approve;

Woe to the bark whose crew shall gaze, What 'vails it the tale of thy sorrows to tell,

Where Lachlan's silken streamer plays! In the spring-time of youth and of promise they fell ! The fools might face the lightning's blaze Of the line of Fitzgraled remains not a male,

As wisely and as well ! To bear the proud name of the Chief of Kintail.

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Nor then, with more delighted ear,

Where, through battle's rout and real, The circle round her drew,

Storm of shot and hedge of steel, Than ours, when gather'd round to hear

Led the grandson of Lochiel, Our songstress' at Saint Cloud.

Valiant Fassiefern.

Through steel and shot he leads no more, Few happy hours poor mortals pass,—

Low laid 'mid friends' and foemen's goreThen give those hours their due,

But long his native lake's wild shore, And rank among the foremost class

And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower,
Our evenings at Saint Cloud.

And Morven long shall tell,
And proud Bennevis hear with awe,
How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra

Of conquest as he fell.4

The Dance of Beath.


Night and morning 8 were at meeting

Over Waterloo ;
Cocks had sung their earliest greeting;

Faint and low they crew,
For no paly beam yet shone
On the heights of Mount Saint John;
Tempest-clouds prolong'd the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower,
Mark'd it a predestined hour.
Broad and frequent through the night
Flash'd the sheets of levin-light;
Muskets, glancing lightnings back,
Show'd the dreary bivouac

Where the soldier lay,
Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain,
Wishing dawn of morn again,

Though death should come with day.

'Lone on the outskirts of the host,
The weary sentinel held post,
And heard, through darkness far aloof,
The frequent clang of courser's hoof,
Where held the cloak'd patrol their course,
And spurr’d 'gainst storm the swerving horse
But there are sounds in Allan's ear,
Patrol nor sentinel may hear,
And sights before his eye aghast
Invisible to them have pass'd,

When down the destined plain,
'Twixt Britain and the bands of France,
Wild as marsh-borne meteor's glance,
Strange phantoms wheel'd a revel danco,

And doom'd the future slain.-
Such forms were seen, such sounds were heard
When Scotland's James his march prepared

For Flodden's fatal plain ; 6
Such, when he drew his ruthless sword,
As Choosers of the Slain, adored

The yet unchristen'd Dane.
An indistinct and phantom band,
They wheeld their ring-dance hand in hand,

With gestures wild and dread;
The Seer, who watch'd them ride the storm,
Saw through their faint and shadowy form

The lightning's flash more red;
And still their ghastly roundelay
Was of the coming battle-fray,

And of the destined dead.

'Tis at such a tide and hour,
Wizard, witch, and fiend have power,
And ghastly forms through mist and shower

Gleam on the gifted ken;
And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear
Presaging death and ruin near

Among the sons of men ;-
Apart from Albyn's war-array,
'Twas then grey Allan sleepless lay;
Grey Allan, who, for many a day,

Had follow'd stout and stern,


« Wheel the wild dance
While lightnings glance,

And thunders rattle loud,
And call the brave
To bloody grave,

To sleep without a shroud.

I These lines were written after an evening spent at Saint Cloud with the late Lady Alvønlev and her daughters, one of whom was the songstress alluded to in the text.

2 Originaily published in 1815, in the Edinburgh Annual Regiator, rol, v.

3 MS.-“ Dawn and darkness."
4 See note, ante, p. 505.
O MS.-" Oft came the clang," &c.

6 See ante, Marmion, canto 7., stanzas 24, 25, 26 and Ap. pendix, Note 4 A., p. 165.

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