Until the mountain-maiden showed A clambering unsuspected road, That winded through the tangled screen, Where weeping birch and willow round Here, for retreat in dangerous hour, Some chief had framed a rustic bower. XXVI. It was a lodge of ample size, But strange of structure and device; Of such materials, as around The workman's hand had readiest found. Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, And by the hatchet rudely squared, To give the walls their destined height, The sturdy oak and ash unite; While moss and clay and leaves combined To fence each crevice from the wind. The lighter pine-trees, over-head, Their slender length for rafters spread, And withered heath and rushes dry Supplied a russet canopy. Due westward, fronting to the green, A rural portico was seen, Aloft on native pillars borne, Of mountain fir with bark unshorn, Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine The ivy and Idæan vine, The clematis, the favoured flower, Which boasts the name of virgin-bower, And every hardy plant could bear An instant in this porch she staid, XXVII. "My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, My gentle guide, in following thee." To his bold brow his spirit rushed, Upon a stag's huge antlers swung ; For all around, the walls to grace, Hung trophies of the fight or chase: A target there, a bugle here, A battle-axe, a hunting spear, And broad-swords, bows, and arrows store, With the tusked trophies of the boar. Here grins the wolf as when he died, And there the wild-cat's brindled hide D The frontlet of the elk adorns, Or mantles o'er the bison's horns; Pennons and flags defaced and stained, That blackening streaks of blood retained, In rude and uncouth tapestry all, To garnish forth the sylvan hall. XXVIII. The wondering Stranger round him gazed, And next the fallen weapon raised Few were the arms whose sinewy strength Sufficed to stretch it forth at length. And as the brand he poised and swayed, "I never knew but one," he said, "Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield A blade like this in battle field."— She sighed, then smiled and took the word; "You see the guardian champion's sword:... As light it trembles in his hand, ban As in my grasp a hazel wand; My sire's tall form might grace the part Of Ferragus, or Ascabart; But in the absent giant's hold Are women now, and menials old.". XXIX. The mistress of the mansion came, Mature of age, a graceful dame; Whose easy step and stately port Had well become a princely court, To whom, though more than kindred knew, Young Ellen gave a mother's due. Meet welcome to her guest she made, And every courteous rite was paid, That hospitality could claim, Though all unasked his birth and name. Such then the reverence to a guest, That fellest foe might join the feast,.. |