II. Song. "Not faster yonder rowers' might Flings from their oars the spray, Not faster yonder rippling bright, That tracks the shallop's course in light, Melts in the lake away, Than men from memory erase The benefits of former days; Then, Stranger, go! good speed the while, Nor think again of the lonely isle. 66 High place to thee in royal court, High place in battled line, Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport, Where Beauty sees the brave resort, The honour'd meed be thine! True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, And lost in love's and friendship's smile, Be memory of the lonely isle. III. Song continued. "But if beneath yon southern sky A plaided stranger roam, Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh, And sunken cheek and heavy eye, Pine for his Highland home; Then, warrior, then be thine to show “Or if on life's uncertain main Mishap shall mar thy sail; If faithful, wise, and brave in vain, Woe, want, and exile thou sustain Beneath the fickle gale; D Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, To greet thee in the lonely isle." IV. As died the sounds upon the tide, The shallop reach'd the main-land side, And ere his onward way he took, The Stranger cast a lingering look, As wasted, grey, and worn as he. To minstrel meditation given, His reverend brow was raised to heaven, As from the rising sun to claim A sparkle of inspiring flame. His hand, reclined upon the wire, Seem'd watching the awakening fire; So still he sate, as those who wait Till judgment speak the doom of fate; So still, as if no breeze might dare . To lift one lock of hoary hair; So still, as life itself were fled, In the last sound his harp had sped. V. Upon a rock with lichens wild, Smiled she to see the stately drake Lead forth his fleet upon the lake, Yet tell me then the maid who knows, Perchance the maiden smiled to see And stop and turn to wave anew; And, lovely ladies, ere your ire Shew me the fair would scorn to spy, And prize such conquest of her eye! VI. While yet he loiter'd on the spot, |