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XXVII.

My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, My gentle guide, in following thee."He cross'd the threshold-and a clang Of angry steel that instant rang. To his bold brow his spirit rush'd, But soon for vain alarm he blush'd, When on the floor he saw display'd, Cause of the din, a naked blade

Dropp'd from the sheath, that careless flung

Upon a stag's huge antlers swung ;

For all around, the walls to grace,

Hung trophies of the fight or chase :

A target there, a bugle here,

A battle-axe, a hunting spear,

And broad-swords, bows, and arrows store,

With the tusk'd trophies of the boar.

Here grins the wolf as when he died,

And there the wild-cat's brindled hide

The frontlet of the elk adorns,

Or mantles o'er the bison's horns;

Pennons and flags defaced and stain'd, That blackening streaks of blood retain❜d, And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and white, With otter's fur and seal's unite,

In rude and uncouth tapestry all,

To garnish forth the sylvan hall,

XXVIII.

The wondering Stranger round him gazed, And next the fallen weapon raised ;

Few were the arms whose sinewy strength

Sufficed to stretch it forth at length.

And as the brand he poised and sway'd,

“I never knew but one," he said,

"Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield

A blade like this in battle-field."

She sigh❜d, then smiled and took the word; "You see the guardian champion's sword:

As light it trembles in his hand,

As in my grasp a hazel wand;

My sire's tall form might grace the part

Of Ferragus, or Ascabart;

But in the absent giant's hold

Are women now, and menials old."—

XXIX.

The Mistress of the mansion came,

Mature of age, a graceful dame;

Whose easy step and stately port

Had well become a princely court,

To whom, though more than kindred knew,

Young Ellen gave a mother's due.

Meet welcome to her guest she made,

And every courteous rite was paid,

That hospitality could claim,

Though all unask'd his birth and name.

Such then the reverence to a guest,

That fellest foe might join the feast,

And from his deadliest foeman's door

Unquestion'd turn, the banquet o'er.

At length his rank the Stranger names,

"The knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz-James; Lord of a barren heritage,

Which his brave sires, from age to age,

By their good swords had held with toil;

His sire had fallen in such turmoil,

And he, God,wot, was forced to stand

Oft for his right with blade in hand.
This morning with Lord Moray's train
He chased a stalwart stag in vain,

Out-stripp'd his comrades, miss'd the deer,
Lost his good steed, and wander'd here."-

XXX..

Fain would the Knight in turn require

The name and state of Ellen's sire.

Well shew'd the elder lady's mien,

That courts and cities she had seen;

Ellen, though more her looks display'd
The simple grace of sylvan maid,

In speech and gesture, form and face,

Shew'd she was come of gentle race;
"Twere strange in ruder rank to find
Such looks, such manners, and such mind.
Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave,
Dame Margaret heard with silence grave;
Or Ellen, innocently gay,

Turn'd all enquiry light away :-
"Wierd women we! by dale and down

We dwell, afar from tower and town.
We stem the flood, we ride the blast,
On wandering knights our spells we cast;
While viewless minstrels touch the string,
"Tis thus our charmed rhymes we sing.".
She sung, and still a harp unseen
Fill'd up the symphony between.