To tame his foes, his friends to aid, Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. Yet, if there be one faithful Græme, Who loves the Chieftain of his name, Not long shall honour'd Douglas dwell, Like hunted stag, in mountain cell; Nor, ere yon pride-swoll'n robber dare,— may not give the rest to air!
Tell Roderick Dhu, I owed him nought, Not the poor service of a boat, To waft me to yon mountain-side." Then plunged he in the flashing tide ;1 Bold o'er the flood his head he bore, And stoutly steer'd him from the shore; And Allan strain'd his anxious eye, Far 'mid the lake his form to spy. Darkening across each puny wave, To which the moon her silver gave, Fast as the cormorant could skim, The swimmer plied each active limb; Then landing in the moonlight dell, Loud shouted of his weal to tell. The Minstrel heard the far halloo, And joyful from the shore withdrew.
[MS." He spoke, and plunged into the tide.
TIME rolls his ceaseless course.
The race of yore, 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
Yet live there still who can remember well,
How when a mountain chief his bugle blew,
Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell,
And solitary heath, the signal knew; 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
The summer dawn's reflected hue
To purple changed Loch Katrine blue; Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Trembled but dimpled not for joy; The mountain-shadows on her breast Were neither broken nor at rest; In bright uncertainty they lie, Like future joys to Fancy's eye. The water-lily to the light Her chalice rear'd of silver bright; The doe awoke, and to the lawn,2 Begemm'd with dewdrops, led her fawn; The grey mist left the mountain side, The torrent show'd its glistening pride;
1 See Appendix, Note 2 A.
2 [MS." The doe awoke, and to the lawn, Begemm'd with dewdrops, led her fawn; Invisible in fleecy cloud,
The lark sent down her matins loud; The light mist left," &c.]
Invisible in flecked sky,
The lark sent down her revelry; The blackbird and the speckled thrush Good-morrow gave from brake and bush ; In answer coo'd the cushat dove
Her notes of peace, and rest, and love.
No thought of peace, no thought of rest, Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. With sheathed broadsword in his hand, Abrupt he paced the islet strand, And eyed the rising sun, and laid His hand on his impatient blade. Beneath a rock, his vassals' care? Was prompt the ritual to prepare, With deep and deathful meaning fraught; For such Antiquity had taught
Was preface meet, ere yet abroad
The Cross of Fire should take its road. The shrinking band stood oft aghast At the impatient glance he cast;— Such glance the mountain eagle threw, As, from the cliffs of Benvenue, She spread her dark sails on the wind, And, high in middle heav'n reclined, With her broad shadow on the lake, Silenced the warblers of the brake.
Are clothed with early blossoms; through the grass The quick-eyed lizard rustles, and the bills
Of summer-birds sing welcome as ye pass."-Childe Harold [MS.-"Hard by, his vassals' early care
The mystic ritual prepare "
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