A numerous race, ere stern MacLeod

In varied tone prolong’d and high, O'er their bleak shores in vengeance strode, That mocks the organ's melody. When all in vain the ocean-cave

Nor doth its entrance front in vain Its refuge to his victims gave.

To old Iona's holy fane, The Chief, relentless in his wrath,

That Nature's voice might seem to say, With blazing heath blockades the path;

“ Well hast thou done, frail Child of clay! In dense and stifling volumes roll’d,

Thy humble powers that stately shrine
The vapour fillid the cavern'd hold!

Task'd high and hard-but witness mine!”7
The warrior-threat, the infant's plain,
The mother's screams, were heard in vain;

XI.
The vengeful Chief maintains his fires,

Merrily, merrily goes the bark, Till in the vault” a tribe expires !

Before the gale she bounds ; The bones which strew that cavern's gloom, - So darts the dolphin from the shark, Too well attest their dismal doom.

Or the deer before the hounds.

They left Loch-Tua on their lee,
X.

And they waken'd the men of the wild
Merrily, merrily goes the bark 3

Tiree,
On a breeze from the northward free,

And the Chief of the sandy Coll;
So shoots through the morning sky the lark, : They paused not at Columba’s isle,
Or the swan through the summer sea.

Though peal'd the bells from the holy pile The shores of Mull on the eastward lay,

With long and measured toll;8 And Ulva dark and Colonsay,

No time for matin or for mass,
And all the group of islets gay

And the sounds of the holy summons pass
That guard famed Staffa round.*

Away in the billows' roll.
Then all unknown its columns rose,

Lochbuie's fierce and warlike Lord Where dark and undisturb’d reposes

Their signal saw,

and grasp'd his sword, The cormorant had found,

And verdant Ilay call’d her host, And the shy seal had quiet home,

And the clans of Jura's rugged coast And welter'd in that wondrous dome,

Lord Ronald's call obey, Where, as to shame the temples deck'd

And Scarba’s isle, whose tortured shore By skill of earthly architect,

Still rings to Corrievreken's roar, Nature herself, it seem'd, would raise

And lonely Colonsay; A Minster to her Maker's praise !6

-Scenes sung by him who sings no more ! Not for a meaner use ascend

His bright and brief 10 career is o'er, Her columns, or her arches bend;

And mute his tuneful strains; Nor of a theme less solemn tells

Quench'd is his lamp of varied lore, That mighty surge that ebbs and swells,

That loved the light of song to pour; And still, between each awful pause,

A distant and a deadly shore From the high vault an answer draws,

Has LEYDEN's cold remains !

1 See Appendix, Note 20.

7 The MS. adds, 2 MS.-" Till in their smoke," &c.

“ Which, when the ruins of thy pile 3. “And so also merrily, merrily, goes the bard,' in a suc

Cumber the desolated isle, cession of merriment, which, like Dogberry's tediousness, he

Firm and immutable shall stand, finds it in his heart to bestow wholly and entirely on us, 'Gainst winds, and waves, and spoiler's hand." through page after page, or wave after wave of his voyage. 8“We were now treading that illustrious island, which was We could almost be tempted to believe that he was on his re- once the luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage turn from Skye when he wrote this portion of his poem ;--from clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge, Skye, the depository of the · mighty cup of royal Somerled," and the blessings of religion. To abstract the mind from all as well as of Rorie More's' comparatively modern horn'- local emotion would be impossible, if it were endeavoured, and that, as he says himself of a minstrel who celebrated the and would be foolish, if it were possible. Whatever withdraws hospitalities of Dunvegan-castle in that island, “it is pretty us from the power of our senses ; whatever makes the past, plain, that when this tribute of poetical praise was bestowed, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, adthe horn of Rorie More bad not been inactive.'"— Monthly vances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and Review. See Appendix, Note M.

from my friends be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct us 4 “Of the prominent beauties which abound in the poem, indifferent and unmoved over any ground wbich has been digthe most magnificent we consider to be the description of the nified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be celebrated Cave of Fingal, which is conceived in a mighty envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain mind, and is expressed in a strain of poetry, clear, simple, of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among and sublime."- British Crilic.

the ruins of Iona."-JOHNSON. 5 MS." Where niched, his undisturb'd repose."

9 See Appendix, Note 2 Q. • See Appendix, Note 2 P.

10 MS.—" His short but bright," &c.

Ile stoop'd his head against the mast,

With note prolong'd and varied strain, And bitter sobs came thick and fast,

Till bold Ben-Ghoil replied again. A grief that would not be repress’d,

Good Douglas then, and De la Haye, But seem'd to burst his youthful breast.

Had in a glen a hart at bay, His hands, against his forehead held,

And Lennox cheer'd the laggard hounds, As if by force his tears repell’d,

When waked that horn the greenwood bounda But through his fingers, long and slight,

“ It is the foe!” cried Boyd, who came Fast trill’d the drops of crystal bright.

In breathless haste with eye of flame,Edward, who walk'd the deck apart,

“ It is the foe!-Each valiant lord First spied this conflict of the heart.

Fling by his bow, and grasp his sword !”Thoughtless as brave, with bluntness kind

“ Not so," replied the good Lord James, He sought to cheer the sorrower's mind;

“ That blast no English bugle claims. By force the slender hand he drew

Oft have I heard it fire the fight, From those poor eyes that stream'd with dew. Cheer the pursuit, or stop the flight. As in his hold the stripling strove,

Dead were my heart, and deaf mine ear, ('Twas a rough grasp, though meant in love,) If Bruce should call, nor Douglas hear! Away his tears the warrior swept,

Each to Loch Ranza's margin spring; And bade shame on him that he wept.'

That blast was winded by the King!” 2 “ I would to heaven, thy helpless tongue Could tell me who hath wrought thee wrong!

XIX. For, were he of our crew the best,

Fast to their mates the tidings spread, The insult went not unredress’d.

And fast to shore the warriors sped. Come, cheer thee; thou art now of age

Bursting from glen and greenwood tree, To be a warrior's gallant page;

High waked their loyal jubilee ! Thou shalt be mine!-a palfrey fair

Around the royal Bruce they crowd, O’er hill and holt my boy shall bear,

And clasp'd his hands, and wept aloud. To hold my bow in hunting grove,

Veterans of early fields were there, Or speed on errand to my love;

Whose helmets press'd their hoary hair, For well I wot thou wilt not tell

Whose swords and axes bore a stain The temple where my wishes dwell.”

From life-blood of the red-hair'd Dane ;3

And boys, whose hands scarce brook'd to wield XVII.

The heavy sword or bossy shield. Bruce interposed,—“ Gay Edward, no,

Men too were there, that bore the scars This is no youth to hold thy bow,

Impress’d in Albyn's woful wars, To fill thy goblet, or to bear

At Falkirk's fierce and fatal fight, Thy message light to lighter fair.

Teyndrum’s dread rout, and Methven's flight; Thou art a patron all too wild

The might of Douglas there was seen, And thoughtless, for this orphan child.

There Lennox with his graceful mien; See'st thou not how apart he steals,

Kirkpatrick, Closeburu's dreaded Knight; Keeps lonely couch, and lonely meals ?

The Lindsay, fiery, fierce, and light; Fitter by far in yon calm cell

The Heir of murder'd De la Haye, To tend our sister Isabel,

And Boyd the grave, and Seton gay. With father Augustin to share

Around their King regain’d they press'd, The peaceful change of convent prayer,

Wept, shouted, clasp'd him to their breast, Than wander wild adventures through,

And young and old, and serf and lord, With such a reckless guide as you."

And he who ne'er unsheathed a sword, “ Thanks, brother!” Edward answer'd gay, And he in many a peril tried, “ For the high laud thy words convey!

Alike resolved the brunt to bide,
But we may learn some future day,

And live or die by Bruce's side!
If thou or I can this poor boy
Protect the best, or best employ.

XX.
Meanwhile, our vessel nears the strand;

Oh, War! thou hast thy fierce delight, Launch we the boat, and seek the land.”

Thy gleams of joy, intensely bright!

Such gleams, as from thy polish'd shield
XVIII.

Fly dazzling o'er the battle-field!
To land King Robert lightly sprung,

Such transports wake, severe and high, And thrice aloud his bugle rung

Amid the pealing conquest-cry;

1 M8.-"And as a way the tears he swept,

He bade shame on him that he wept."

2 See Appendix, Note 2 T.
3 MS.-" Impress'd by life-blood of the Dane.”

XXIV.
“ Now lay these vain regrets aside,
And be the unshaken Bruce!” she cried.
“ For more I glory to have shared
The woes thy venturous spirit dared,
When raising first thy valiant band
In rescue of thy native land,
Than bad fair Fortune set me down
The partner of an empire's crown.
And grieve not that on Pleasure's stream
No more I drive in giddy dream,
For Heaven the erring pilot knew,
And from the gulf the vessel drew,
Tried me with judgments stern and great,
My bouse's ruin, thy defeat,
Poor Nigel's death, till, tamed, I own,
My hopes are fix'd on Heaven alone;
Nor e'er shall earthly prospects win
My heart to this vain world of sin.”-

XXVI.
Still stood that page, as far apart

As the small cell would space afford;
With dizzy eye and bursting heart,

He leant his weight on Bruce's sword,
The monarch's mantle too he bore,
And drew the fold his visage o’er.
“ Fear not for him-in murderous strife,"
Said Bruce, “ his warning saved my life ;:
Full seldom parts he from my side,
And in his silence I confide,
Since he can tell no tale again.
He is a boy of gentle strain,
And I have purposed he shall dwell
In Augustin the chaplain's cell,
And wait on thee, my Isabel.-
Mind not his tears; I've seen them

flow,
As in the thaw dissolves the snow.
"T'is a kind youth, but fanciful,
Unfit against the tide to pull,
And those that with the Bruce would sail,
Must learn to strive with stream and galo.-
But forward, gentle Isabel
My answer for Lord Ronald tell.”-

a

XXV.
Nay, Isabel, for such stern choice,
First wilt thou wait thy brother's voice;
Then ponder if in convent scene
No softer thoughts might intervenem
Say they were of that unknown Knight,
Victor in Woodstock's tourney-fight-
Nay, if his name such blush you owe,
Victorious o’er a fairer foe!”
Truly his penetrating eye
Hath caught that blush's passing dye,
Like the last beam of evening thrown
On a white cloud,-just seen and gone.'
Soon with calm cheek and steady eye,
The princess made composed reply:-
“ I guess my brother's meaning well;
For not so silent is the cell,
But we have heard the islesmen all
Arm in thy cause at Ronald's call,
And mine eye proves that Knight unknown?
And the brave Island Lord are one.-
Had then his suit been earlier made,
In his own name, with thee to aid,
(But that his plighted faith forbade,)
I know not ...... But thy page so near ?
This is no tale for menial's ear."

XXVII.
“ This answer be to Ronald given-
The heart he asks is fix'd on heaven.
My love was like a summer flower,
That wither'd in the wintry hour,
Born but of vanity and pride,
And with these sunny visions died.
If further press his suit—then say,
He should his plighted troth obey,
Troth plighted both with ring and

word,
And sworn on crucifix and sword.
Oh, shame thee, Robert! I have seen
Thou hast a woman's guardian been!
Even in extremity's dread hour,
When press'd on thee the Southern power,
And safety, to all human sight,
Was only found in rapid flight,
Thou heard'st a wretched female plain
In agony of travail-pain,

3

1 “We would bow with veneration to the powerful and the countenance of Isabel upon his mention of Ronald."
rugged genius of Scott. We would style him above all others, British Critic.
Homer and Shakspeare excepted, the Poet of Nature-of
Nature in all her varied beauties, in all her wildest haunts. 2 MS.-"And well I judge that Knight unknown."
No appearance, however minute, in the scenes around him,
escapes his penetrating eye; they are all marked with the 3 MS._" But that his

s earlier
former )

plight forbade."
nicest discrimation; are introduced with the happiest effect.
Hence, in his similes, both the genius and the judgment of

4 MS.--" The Monarch's brand and cloak he bore." the poet are peculiarly conspicuous; his accurate observation of the appearances of nature, which others have neglected,

5 MS.-" Answer'd the Bruce, he saved my life.'” imparts an originality to those allusions, of which the reader immediately recognises the aptness and propriety; and only 6 The MS. has wonders that what must have been so often witnessed should “ Isabel's thoughts are fix'd on heaven;" have been so uniformly passed unregarded by. Such is the and the two couplets which follow are interpolated on the simile applied to the transicnt blush observed by Bruce on