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XXIX.

HYMN TO THE VIRGIN.

Ave Maria! maiden mild!
Listen to a maiden's prayer!

Thou canst hear though from the wild,
Thou canst save amid despair.
Safe may we sleep beneath thy care,
Though banish'd, outcast, and reviled-
Maiden! hear a maiden's prayer!

Mother, hear a suppliant child!

Ave Maria! undefiled!

Ave Maria!

The flinty couch we now must share Shall seem with down of eider piled,

If thy protection hover there.

The murky cavern's heavy air

Shall breathe of balm, if thou hast smiled; Then, Maiden! hear a maiden's prayer!

Mother, list a suppliant child!

Ave Maria! Stainless styled!

Ave Maria!

Foul demons of the earth and air, From this their wonted haunt exiled, Shall flee before thy presence fair. We bow us to our lot of care,

Beneath thy guidance reconciled; Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer! And for a father hear a child!

Ave Maria!

XXX.

Died on the harp the closing hymn-
Unmoved in attitude and limb,
As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lord
Stood leaning on his heavy sword,
Until the page, with humble sign,
Twice pointed to the sun's decline.
Then while his plaid he round him cast,
"It is the last time-'tis the last,"
He mutter'd thrice,-"the last time e'er
That angel-voice shall Roderick hear!”
It was a goading thought-his stride
Hied hastier down the mountain-side;
Sullen he flung him in the boat,
And instant 'cross the lake it shot.
They landed in that silvery bay,
And eastward held their hasty way,
Till, with the latest beams of light,
The band arrived on Lanrick height,
Where muster'd, in the vale below,
Clan-Alpine's men in martial show.

XXXI.

A various scene the clansmen made;

Some sate, some stood, some slowly stray'd;

But most, with mantles folded round,
Were couch'd to rest upon the ground.
Scarce to be known by curious eye,
From the deep heather where they lie,
So well was match'd the tartan screen
With heath-bell dark and brackens green;

Unless where, here and there, a blade,
Ór lance's point, a glimmer made,

Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade.
But when, advancing through the gloom,
They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume,
Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide,
Shook the steep mountain's steady side.
Thrice it arose, and lake and fell
Three times return'd the martial yell;
It died upon Bochastle's plain,

And Silence claim'd her evening reign.

THE LADY OF THE LAKE.

CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY.

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