Far up the lake 'twere safest land, Himself would row him to the strand. Round dirk and pouch and broadsword roll'd, And stripp'd his limbs to such array, XXXVII. Then spoke abrupt: “Farewell to thee, The Minstrel's hand he kindly press'd. Tell Roderick Dhu I owed him naught, otherwise it is more than probable he might have suffered death from the hand of that little vermin. But it is very disagreeable to an Englishman over a bottle with the Highlanders, to see every one ef them have his gilly, that is, his servant standing behind him, all the while, let what will be the subject of conversation." - Letters from Scotland, ii. 159. To waft me to yon mountain-side." 1 MS.: "He spoke, and plunged into the tide." CANTO THIRD. The Gathering. I. TIME rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore,1 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 wither'd 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, 1 "There are no separate introductions to the cantos of this poem; but each of them begins with one or two stanzas in the measure of Spenser, usually containing some reflections connected with the subject about to be entered on; and written, for the most part, with great tenderness and beauty. The following, we think, is among the most striking." - JEFFREY. 97 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 yell'd the gathering sound, And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor, round.1 II. The summer dawn's reflected hue 1 See Appendix, Note F. 2 MS.: "The doe awoke, and to the lawn . Begemm'd with dewdrops, led her fawn, The lark sent down her matins loud; The light mist left," etc. 1 Invisible in flecked sky, The lark sent down her revelry; The blackbird and the speckled thrush Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. III. No thought of peace, no thought of rest, Was preface meet, ere yet abroad The Cross of Fire should take its road. "The green hills Are clothed with early blossoms; through the grass The quick-eyed lizard rustles, and the bills 1 Of summer birds sing welcome as ye pass." — Childe Harold. 2 MS.: "Hard by, his vassals' early care The mystic ritual prepare." |