"At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive,
Two Barons proud their banners wave.
I saw the Moray's silver star,
And marked the sable pale of Mar."
"By Alpine's soul, high tidings those!
I love to hear of worthy foes.
When move they on?" "To-morrow's noon
Will see them here for battle boune."
"Then shall it see a meeting stern !—
But, for the place--say, couldst thou learn
Nought of the friendly clans of Earn?
Strengthened by them we well might bide
The battle on Benledi's side.
Thou couldst not ?-well! Clan-Alpine's men
Shall man the Trosachs' shaggy glen;
Within Loch-Katrine's gorge we'll fight,
All in our maids' and matrons' sight,
Each for his hearth and household fire,
Father for child, and son for site-
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 broad-swords gleam, the banners dance,
Obedient to the Chieftain's glance
I turn me from the martial roar,
And seek Coir-Uriskin once more.
Where is the Douglas ?-he is gone;
And Ellen sits on the grey stone
Fast by the cave, and makes her moan;
While vainly Allan's words of cheer
Are poured on her unheeding ear.
"He will return-dear lady, trust!—
With joy return; he will-he must!
Well was it time to seek afar
Some refuge from impending war,
When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm
Are cow'd by the approaching stran.
I saw their boats, with many a light,
Floating the live-long yesternight,
Shifting like flashes darted forth
By the red streamers of the north;
I marked at morn how close they ride,
Thick moored by the lone islet's side,
Like wild ducks couching in the fen,
When stoops the hawk upon the glen.
Since this rude race dare not abide
The peril on the mainland side,
Shall not thy noble father's care
Some safe retreat for thee prepare ?"
"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 glistened in his eye
Drowned not his purpose fixed and high
My soul, though feminine and weak,
Can image his; e'en as the lake,
Itself disturbed by slightest stroke,
Reflects the invulnerable rock.
He hears reports of battle rife,
He deems himself the cause of strife.
I saw him redden, when the theme
Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream,
Of Malcolm Græme in fetters bound,
Which I, thou said st, 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 dere 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 friends' safety with his own;
He goes to do what I had done,
Had Douglas' daughter been his son !"
"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 visioned 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 spot!
Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot,
Of such a wond rous tale I know-
Dear lady, change that look of woe!
My heart was wont thy grief to cheer
"Well, be it as thou wilt; I hear,
But cannot stop the bursting tear."
The Minstrel tried his simple art,
But distant far was Ellen's heart.
Merry it is in the good green wood,
When the mavist and merle‡ are singing,
This little fairy tale is founded upon a very curious Danish ballad, which occurs in the KIEMPE Visen, a collection of heroic songs, first published in 1591, and reprinted in 1665.
When the deer sweeps by, and the bounds are in cry, And the hunter's horn is ringing.
"Oh Alice Brand! my native land
Is lost for love of you;
And we must hold by wood and wold,
As outlaws wont to do.
"Oh Alice! 'twas all for thy locks so bright,
And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue,
That on the night of our luckless flight,
Thy brother bold I slew.
"Now must I teach to hew the beech,
The hand that held the glaive,
For leaves to spread our lowly bed,
And stakes to fence our cave.
"And for vest of pall, thy fingers small,
That wont on harp to stray,
A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer
To keep the cold away."
"Oh Richard! if my brother died,
'Twas but a fatal chance;
For darkling was the battle tried,
And Fortune sped the lance.
"If pall and vair no more I wear,
Nor thou the crimson sheen,
As warm, we'll say, is the russet grey,
As gay the forest-green.
"And, Richard, if our lot be hard,
And lost thy native land,
Still Alice has her own Richard,
And he his Alice Brand."
'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good green wood,
So blithe Lady Alice is singing;
On the beech's pride, and the oak's brown side,
Lord Richard's axe is ringing.
Up spoke the moody Elfin King,
Who won'd within the hill-*
Like wind in the porch of a ruined church,
His voice was ghostly shrill.
"Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak,
Our moonlight circle's screen?
Or who comes here to chase the deer,
Beloved of our Elfin Queen?
Or who may dare on wold to wear
The fairy's fatal green?†
"Up, Urgan, up! to yon mortal hie,
For thou wert christened man ;‡
For cross or sign thou wilt not fly,
For muttered word or ban.
"Lay on him the curse of the withered heart,
The curse of the sleepless eye;
Till he wish and pray that his life would part,
Nor yet find leave to die."
'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good green wood,
Though the birds have stilled their singing;
The evening blaze doth Alice raise,
And Richard is faggots bringing.
Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf
Before Lord Richard stands,
And, as he crossed and blessed himself,
"I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf,
"That is made with bloody hands.'
The Daoine Shi', or men of peace of the Highlanders, are be lieved to inhabit certain round grassy eminences, where they celebrate their nocturnal festivities by the light of the moon. Many, it is said, of mortal race have been entertained in their socret recesses; but unhappy is the mortal who joins in their joys, or rentures to partake of their dainties, By this indulgence, he forfeits for ever the society of men, and is bound down irrevocably to the condition of a Shi'ich, or man of peace.
+ As the daoine shi, or men of peace, wore green habits, they were supposed to take offence when any mortals ventured to as sume their favourite colour.
The elves were supposed greatly to envy the privileges acquired by Christian initiation, and they gave to those mortals who had fallen into their power, a certain precedence, founded upon this advantageous distinction.
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