Mid those the Stranger fix'd his eye

Where that huge faulchion hung on high,

And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng,

Rush'd, chasing countless thoughts along,
Until, the giddy whirl to cure,

He rose, and sought the moon-shine pure.

XXXV.

The wild rose, eglantine, and broom,
Wasted around their rich perfume;
The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm,
The aspens slept beneath the calm;

The silver light, with quivering glance,

Play'd on the water's still expanse,

Wild were the heart whose passion's sway

Could rage beneath the sober ray!

He felt its calm, that warrior guest,

Can I not mountain maiden spy,

But she must bear the Douglas eye?

Can I not view a Highland brand,

But it must match the Douglas hand? Can I not frame a fever'd dream,

But still the Douglas is the theme ?

I'll dream no more-by manly mind
Not even in sleep is will resign'd.
My midnight orisons said o'er,

I'll turn to rest, and dream no more."

His midnight orison he told,

A prayer with every bead of gold, Consign'd to heaven his cares and woes, And sunk in undisturb'd repose;

Until the heath-cock shrilly crew,

And morning dawn'd on Bevenue.

END OF CANTO FIRST.

THE

LADY OF THE LAKE.

CANTO SECOND.

The Island.

THE

LADY OF THE LAKE.

CANTO SECOND.

The Island.

I.

Ar morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing,

'Tis morning prompts the linnet's blithest lay, All Nature's children feel the matin spring

Of life reviving, with reviving day;
And while yon little bark glides down the bay,
Wafting the stranger on his way again,
Morn's genial influence, roused a minstrel grey,

And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain, Mix'd with with the sounding harp, O white-hair'd Allan-bane!