Canto III

The Gathering

XXVIII

Their Chief, with step reluctant, still
Was lingering on the craggy hill,
Hard by where turn'd apart the road
To Douglas's obscure abode.

It was but with that dawning morn,
That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn,
To drown his love in war's wild roar,
Nor think of Ellen Douglas more;
But he who stems a stream with sand,
And fetters flame with flaxen band,
Has yet a harder task to prove—
By firm resolve to conquer love!
Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost,
Still hovering near his treasure lost;
For though his haughty heart deny
A parting meeting to his eye,
Still fondly strains his anxious ear,
The accents of her voice to hear,
And inly did he curse the breeze
That waked to sound the rustling trees.
But hark! what mingles in the strain?
It is the harp of Allan-bane,

That wakes its measure slow and high,
Attuned to sacred minstrelsy.

What melting voice attends the strings?
'Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings.

Canto III

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!

The Gathering

XXVII

Now eve, with western shadows long,
Floated on Katrine bright and strong,
When Roderick, with a chosen few,
Repass'd the heights of Benvenue.
Above the Goblin-cave they go,
Through the wild pass of Beal-nam-bo
The prompt retainers speed before,
To launch the shallop from the shore,
For cross Loch Katrine lies his way
To view the passes of Achray,
And place his clansmen in array.
Yet lags the chief in musing mind,
Unwonted sight, his men behind.
A single page, to bear his sword,
Alone attended on his lord;

The rest their way through thickets
break,

And soon await him by the lake.

It was a fair and gallant sight,

To view them from the neighbouring
height,

By the low-levell'd sunbeam's light!
For strength and stature, from the clan
Each warrior was a chosen man,

As even afar might well be seen,
By their proud step and martial mien.
Their feathers dance, their tartans float,
Their targets gleam, as by the boat
A wild and warlike group they stand,
That well became such mountain-strand.

Canto III

The Gathering

Canto III

The Gathering

XXVIII

Their Chief, with step reluctant, still
Was lingering on the craggy hill,
Hard by where turn'd apart the road
To Douglas's obscure abode.

It was but with that dawning morn,
That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn,
To drown his love in war's wild roar,
Nor think of Ellen Douglas more;
But he who stems a stream with sand,
And fetters flame with flaxen band,
Has yet a harder task to prove-
By firm resolve to conquer love!
Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost,
Still hovering near his treasure lost;
For though his haughty heart deny
A parting meeting to his eye,
Still fondly strains his anxious ear,
The accents of her voice to hear,
And inly did he curse the breeze

That waked to sound the rustling trees.
But hark! what mingles in the strain?
It is the harp of Allan-bane,

That wakes its measure slow and high,
Attuned to sacred minstrelsy.

What melting voice attends the strings?
'Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings.