The Lady of the Lake

And love is loveliest when embalm'd, The warrior's plaid may bear it out;

O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears,

I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave, Emblem of hope and love through future years!"

Thus spoke young Norman, heir of
Armandave,

What time the sun arose on Vennachar's
broad wave.

But, Norman, how wilt thou provide A shelter for thy bonny bride?""What! know ye not that Roderick's

care

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"Ah! well the gallant brute I knew! The choicest of the prey we had, When swept our merry-men Gallangad. His hide was snow, his horns were dark,

His red eye glow'd like fiery spark;
So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet,
Sore did he cumber our retreat,
And kept our stoutest kernes in awe,
Even at the pass of Beal 'maha.
But steep and flinty was the road,
And sharp the hurrying pikemen's
goad,

And when we came to Dennan's Row, A child might scatheless stroke his brow."

V. NORMAN.

"That bull was slain: his reeking hide
They stretch'd the cataract beside,
Whose waters their wild tumult toss
Adown the black and craggy boss
Of that huge cliff, whose ample verge

Tradition calls the Hero's Targe.1
Couch'd on a shelve beneath its brink,
Close where the thundering torrents
sink,

Rocking beneath their headlong sway,
And drizzled by the ceaseless spray,
Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream,
The wizard waits prophetic dream.
Nor distant rests the Chief;-but hush!
See, gliding slow through mist and
bush,

The hermit gains yon rock and stands
To gaze upon our slumbering bands.
Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost,
That hovers o'er a slaughter'd host?
Or raven on the blasted oak,
That, watching while the deer is broke,
His morsel claims with sullen croak?"

MALISE.

An human tongue may ne'er avouch;
No mortal man,-save he, who, bred
Between the living and the dead,
Is gifted beyond nature's law,—
Had e'er survived to say he saw.
At length the fatal answer came,
In characters of living flame!
Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll,
But borne and branded on my soul;-
WHICH SPILLS THE FOREMOST FOEMAN'S
LIFE,

THAT PARTY CONQUERS IN THE
STRIFE!"

VII.

Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care!
Good is thine augury, and fair.
Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood,
But first our broadswords tasted blood.
A surer victim still I know,

"Peace! peace! to other than to me, Self-offer'd to the auspicious blow: Thy words were evil augury; But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade Clan-Alpine's omen and her aid, Not aught that, glean'd from heaven or hell,

Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell.
The Chieftain joins him, see-and now,
Together they descend the brow."

VI.

And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord
The Hermit Monk held solemn word:-
"Roderick! it is a fearful strife,
For man endow'd with mortal life,
Whose shroud of sentient clay can still
Feel feverish pang and fainting chill,
Whose eye can stare in stony trance,
Whose hair can rouse like warrior's

lance,-
'Tis hard for such to view, unfurl'd,
The curtain of the future world.
Yet, witness every quaking limb,
My sunken pulse, my eyeballs dim,
My soul with harrowing anguish torn,-
This for my Chieftain have I borne !-
The shapes that sought my fearful
couch,

1 There is a rock so named in the forest of Glenfinlas, by which a tumultuary cataract takes its course. This wild place is said in former times to have afforded refuge to an outlaw, who was supplied with provisions by a woman, who lowered them down from the brink of the precipice above. His water he procured for himself, by litting down a flagon tied to a string into the black pool beneath te fall.

A spy has sought my land this morn,-
No eve shall witness his return!
My followers guard each pass's mouth,
To east, to westward, and to south;
Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide,
Has charge to lead his steps aside,
Till, in deep path or dingle brown,
He light on those shall bring him
down.

-But see, who comes his news to
show !

Malise what tidings of the foe?"

2 Though this be in the text described as a response of the Taghairm, or Oracle of the Hide, it was of itself an augury frequently attended to. The fate of the battle was often anticipated in the imagination of the combatants, by observing which party first shed blood. It is said that the Highlanders under Montrose were so deeply imbued with this notion, that, on the morning of the battle of Tippermoor, they m rdered a defenceless herdsman whom they found in the fields, merely to secure an advantage of so much consequence to their party. 3 For battle boune-ready for battle.

Then shall it see a meeting sternBut, for the place-say, couldst thou learn

Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? Strengthen'd by them, we well might bide

The battle on Benledi's side.
Thou couldst not?--Well! Clan-Alpine's

mene

Shall man the Trosach's shaggy glen;
Within Loch Katrine's gorge we'll
fight,

All in our maids' and matrons' sight,
Each for nis hearth and household fire,
Father for child, and son for sire,-
Lover for maid beloved!-But why-
Is it the breeze affects mine eye?
Or dost thou come, ill-omen'd tear!
A messenger of doubt or fear?
No! sooner may the Saxon lance
Unfix Benledi from his stance,
Than doubt or terror can pierce through
The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu!
"Tis stubborn as his trusty targe.-
Each to his post-all know their
charge."

The pibroch sounds, the bands advance,
The broadswords gleam, the banners
dance,

Obedient to the Chieftain's glance. to-I turn me from the martial roar, And seek, Coir-Uriskin once more.

The peril on the mainland side,
Shall not thy noble father's care
Some safe retreat for thee prepare?"-

ELLEN.

"No, Allan, no! Pretext so kind
My wakeful terrors could not blind,
When in such tender tone, yet grave,
Douglas a parting blessing gave,
The tear that glisten'd in his eye
Drown'd not his purpose fix'd on high
My soul, though feminine and weak,
Can image his; e'en as the lake,
Itself disturb'd by slightest stroke,
Reflects the invulnerable rock.
He hears report of battle rife,
He deems himself the cause of strife.
I saw him redden, when the theme
Turn'd, Allan, on thine idle dream,
Of Malcolm Græme, in fetters bound,
Which I, thou saidst, about him wound.
Think'st thou he trow'd thine omen
aught?

Oh no! 'twas apprehensive thought
For the kind youth.-for Roderick too-
(Let me be just) that friend so true;
In danger both, and in our cause!
Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause.
Why else that solemn warning given,
'If not on earth, we meet in heaven!'
Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane,
If eve return him not again,
Am I to hie, and make me known?
Alas! he goes to Scotland's throne,
Buys his friend's safety with his own;-
He goes to do what I had done,
Had Douglas' daughter been his son!"-

XI.

"Nay, lovely Ellen-dearest, nay!-
If aught should his return delay,
He only named yon holy fane
As fitting place to meet again.
Be sure he's safe; and for the Græme,-
Heaven's blessing on his gallant name!-
My vision'd sight may yet prove true,
Nor bode of ill to him or you.
When did my gifted dream beguile?
Think of the stranger at the isle,
And think upon the harpings slow,
That presaged this approaching woe!
Sooth was my prophecy of fear;
Believe it when it augurs cheer.
Would we had left this dismal spoi

211

Up, Urgan, up! to yon mortal hie, For thou wert christen'd man;'

4 In a long dissertation upon the Fairy Superstitions, published in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, the most valuable part of which was supplied by my learned a d indefatigable friend, Dr. John Leyden, most of the circumstances are

cllected which can throw light upon the popular belief which even yet prevails respecting them in Scotland.

5 It has been already observed, that fair es, if not positively malevolent, are capricious, and easily offended. They are, like other proprietors of forests, peculiarly jealous of their rights of vert and venison, as appears from the cause f offence taken, in the original Danish ballad.

6 As the Daoine Shi', or Men of Peace, wore green habits, they were supposed to take offence when any mortals ventured to ass me their favourite colour. Indeed, from some reason which has been, perhaps, orig nally a general superstition green is held in Scotland to be unlucky to particu lar tribes and count es.

7 The elves were supposed greatly to envy the privileges acquired by Chri tian initiation, and they ga e to those mortals who had allen into their power a certain precedence, founded upon this advantageous distinction.

For cross or sign thou wilt not fly, For mutter'd word or ban.

Lay on him the curse of the wither'd heart,

The curse of the sleepless eye; Till he wish and pray that his life would part,

Nor yet find leave to die."

XIV.

Ballad continued.

'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood,

Though the birds have still'd their
singing;

The evening blaze doth Alice raise,
And Richard is fagots bringing.

Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf,
Before Lord Richard stands,

And, as he cross'd and bless'd himself, I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, "That is made with bloody hands."

But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, That woman, void of fear, "And if there's blood upon his hand, 'Tis but the blood of deer."

"Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood; It cleaves unto his hand,

The stain of thine own kindly blood,

The blood of Ethert Brand."

Then forward stepp'd she, Alice Brand, And made the holy sign,"And if there's blood on Richard's hand,

A spotless hand is mine.

"And I conjure thee, Demon elf,

By Him whom Demons fear, To show us whence thou art thyself, And what thine errand here?"

"And gaily shines the Fairy-land

But all is glistening show,'

Like the idle gleam that December's beam

Can dart on ice and snow.

"And fading, like that varied gleam, Is our inconstant shape, Who now like knight and lady seem, And now like dwarf and ape. "It was between the night and day, When the Fairy King has power, That I sunk down in a sinful fray, And, 'twixt life and death, was snatch'd away

To the joyless Elfin bower. "But wist I of a woman bold,

Who thrice my brow durst sign, I might regain my mortal mold, As fair a form as thine."

She cross'd him once-she cross'd him twice

That lady was so brave;
The fouler grew his goblin bue,
The darker grew the cave.

She cross'd him thrice, that lady bold;
He rose beneath her hand

The fairest knight on Scottish mold, Her brother Ethert Brand!

Merry it is in good greenwood,

When the mavis and merle are singing, But merrier were they in Dumfermline grey,

When all the bells were ringing.

XVI.

Just as the minstrel sounds were staid,
A stranger climb'd the steepy glade:
His martial step, his stately mien,
His hunting suit of Lincoln green,
His eagle glance, remembrance claims-
'Tis Snowdoun's knight, 'tis James
Fitz-James.

Ellen beheld as in a dream,
Then, starting, scarce suppress'd a

scream:

"O stranger! in such hour of fear, What evil hap has brought thee here?"

1 No fact r specting Fairy-land seems to be better asce tained than the fantastic and illusory nature of their apparent pleasure and splendour.

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