And darken'd brow, where wounded pride

With ire and disappointment vied,

Seem'd, by the torch's gloomy light,
Like the ill Dæmon of the night,
Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway
Upon the nighted pilgrim's way:
But, unrequited Love! thy dart
Plunged deepest its envenom'd smart,
And Roderick, with thine anguish stung,
At length the hand of Douglas wrung,
While eyes, that mock'd at tears before,
With bitter drops were running o'er.
The death-pangs of long-cherish'd hope
Scarce in that ample breast had scope,
But, struggling with his spirit proud,
Convulsive heaved its chequer'd shroud,
While every sob-so mute were all-
Was heard distinctly through the hall.
The son's despair, the mother's look,
Ill might the gentle Ellen brook ;

She rose, and to her side there came,

To aid her parting steps, the Græme.

XXXIV.

Then Roderick from the Douglas broke

As flashes flame through sable smoke,

Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low,
To one broad blaze of ruddy glow,

So the deep anguish of despair
Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air.

With stalwart grasp his hand he laid

On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid

"Back, beardless boy!" he sternly said, "Back, minion! hold'st thou thus at naught

The lesson I so lately taught?

This roof, the Douglas, and that maid,

Thank thou for punishment delay'd."

Eager as greyhound on his game,

Fiercely with Roderick grappled Græme,

"Perish my name, if aught afford

Its chieftain safety, save his sword !”

Thus as they strove, their desperate hand
Griped to the dagger or the brand,

And death had been-but Douglas rose,

And thrust between the struggling foes

His giant strength :-" Chieftains, forego!

:—

I hold the first who strikes, my foe.

Madmen, forbear your frantic jar!

What! is the Douglas fall'n so far,

His daughter's hand is deem'd the spoil

Of such dishonourable broil !"

Sullen and slowly, they unclasp,

As struck with shame, their desperate grasp,

And each upon his rival glared,

With foot advanced, and blade half-bared.

Ere

XXXV.

yet the brands aloft were flung,

Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung,
And Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream,

As faulter'd through terrific dream.

Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword,

And veil'd his wrath in scornful word.

"Rest safe till morning; pity 'twere
Such cheek should feel the midnight air!
Then may'st thou to James Stuart tell,
Roderick will keep the lake and fell,

Nor lackey, with his free-born clan,

The pageant pomp of earthly man.

More would he of Clan-Alpine know,

Thou canst our strength and passes show.-
Malise, what ho!"-his hench-man came ;
“Give our safe conduct to the Græme."-
Young Malcolm answer'd, calm and bold,
"Fear nothing for thy favourite hold;
The spot, an angel deign'd to grace,
Is bless'd, though robbers haunt the place.
Thy churlish courtesy for those
Reserve, who fear to be thy foes.
As safe to me the mountain way
At midnight, as in blaze of day,

Though with his boldest at his back, Even Roderick Dhu beset the track.Brave Douglas,-lovely Ellen,-nay, Nought here of parting will I say. Earth does not hold a lonesome glen,

So secret, but we meet agen.—

Chieftain! we too shall find an hour."

He said, and left the sylvan bower.

XXXVI.

Old Allan follow'd to the strand,

(Such was the Douglas's command,)

And anxious told, how, on the morn, The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn, The Fiery Cross should circle o'er

Dale, glen, and valley, down, and moor.

Much were the peril to the Græme,
From those who to the signal came;

Far up the lake 'twere safest land,

Himself would row him to the strand.