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That there's wrath and despair in the jolly black To pay the forester his fee? jack,

I'll have my share, howe'er it be, And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack; Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee." Yet whoop, Barnaby ! off with thy liquor,

Bertram his forward step withstood ;! Drink upsees* out, and a fig for the vicar!

And, burning in his vengeful mood,

Old Allan, though unfit for strife, Our vicar he calls it damnation to sip

Laid hand upon his dagger-knife;
The ripe ruddy dew of a woman's dear lip,

But Ellen boldly stepp'd between,
Says, that Beelzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly, And dropp'd at once the tartan screen :-
And Apollyon shoots darts from her merry black So, from his morning cloud appears
eye;

The sun of May, through summer tears.
Yet whoop, Jack! kiss Gillian the quicker,

The savage soldiery amazed, 1
Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vicar! As on descended angel gazed;

Even hardy Brent, abash'd and tam'd,
Our vicar thus preaches--and why should he not ? Stood half admiring, half ashamed.
For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot;
And’tis right of his office poor laymen to lurch,

VIII.
Who infringe the domains of our good Mother Boldly she spoke,—" Soldiers, attend !
Church.

My father was the soldier's friend;
Yet whoop, bully-boys! off with your liquor,

Cheer'd him in camps, in marches led, Sweet Marjorie's the word, and a fig for the vicar!

And with him in the battle bled.

Not from the valiant or the strong,
VI.

Should exile's daughter suffer wrong."-**
The warder's challenge, heard without,
Staid in mid-roar the merry shout.

Answer'd De Brent, most forward still A soldier to the portal went,

In every feat or good or ill,

"I shame me of the part I play'd: * Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent;

And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid! And, --beat for jubilee the drum!

An outlaw I by forest laws, A maid and minstrel with him come."

And merry Needwood knows the cause. Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarr'd,

Poor Rose-if Rose be living now,"'Was entering now the Court of Guard,

He wiped his iron eye and brow,-
A harper with him, and in plaid

Musi bear such age, I think, as thou.-
All mumed close, a mountain maid,
Who backward shrunk to’scape the view

Hear ye, my mates ;-) go to call
Of the loose scene and boisterous crew.

The Captain of our watch to hall:

There lies my halberd on the floor; "What news?" they roar'd:-"I only know, From noon till eve we fought with foe,

And he that steps my halberd o'er,

To do the maid injurious part,
As wild and as untameable
As the rude mountains where they dwell;

My shaft shall quiver in his heart!

Beware loose speech, or jesting rough: On both sides store of blood is lost,

Ye all know John de Brent. Enough." Nor much success can either boast."'"But whence thy captives, friend ? such spoil

IX. As theirs must needs reward thy toil. I

Their Captain came, a gallant young, Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp;

(Of Tullibardine's house he sprung,) 'Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp!

Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight; Get thee an ape, and trudge the land,

Gay was his mien, his humour light,
The leader of a juggler band."-S

And, though by courtesy controllid,
VII.

Forward his speech, his bearing bold. "No, comrade ;-no such fortune mine.

The high-born maiden ill could brook After the fight these sought our line,

The scanning of his curious look That aged harper and the girl,

And dauntless eye ;--and yet, in sooth, And, having audience of the Earl,

Young Lewis was a generous youth: Mar bade I should purvey them steed,

But Ellen's lovely face and mien, And bring them hitherward with speed.

Ill-suited to the garb and scene, Forbear your mirth and rude alarm,

Might lightly bear construction strange, For none shall do them shame or harm."

And give loose fancy scope to range. "Hear ye his boast ?" cried John of Brent,

"Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid ! Ever to strife and jangling bent;

Come ye to seek a champion's aid, "Shall he strike doe beside our lodge,

On palfrey white, with harper hoar, And yet the jealous niggard grudge

Like errant damosel of yore? * Bacchanalian interjection, borrowed from the Dutch. physicians attested, the employment of tumbling would kill her ;

** The greatest bleinish in the poem, is the ribaldry and dull and her joints were now grown stiff, and she declined to return; vulgarity which is put into the mouths of the soldiery in the though she was at least a 'prentice, and so could not run away guard-room. Mr. Scott has condescended to write a song for from her master: yet some cited Moses's law, that if a gerrant them, which will be read with pain, we are persuaded, even by

shelter himself with thee, against his master's cruelty, thou shalt his warmest admirers; and his whole genius, and even his power surely not deliver him up. The Lords, renitente cancellario, as of versification, seems to desert him when he attempts to repeat soilzied Harden, on the 27th of January, (1687.)"- FOUNTAIN their conversation Here is some of the stuff which has dropped, HALL's Decisions, vol i p. 439.* in this inauspicious attempt, from the pen of one of the first po The facetious qualities of the ape soon rendered him an accept ets of his age or country,' &c. &c.-JEFFREY.)

able addition to the strolling band of the jongleur. Ben Jonson, The M8 reads after this:-

in his splenetic introduction to the comedy of "Bartholomew “Get thee an ane, and then at once

Fair.'' is at pains to inform the audience that he has ne'er a Thou mayst renounce the warder's lance,

sword-and-buckler man in his Fair, nor a juggler, with a well And truilge through borough and through land, educated ape, to come over the chaine for the King of England, The leader of a juggler band."')

and back again for the prince, and sit still on his haunches for $ The jongleurs, or jugglers, as we learn from the elaborate the Pope and the King of Spaine." work of ihe late Mr. Strutt, on the sports and pastimes of the

#(MS. –“Bertram {shich { violence withstood.") people of England, used to call in the aid of various assistants, to render these performances as captivating as possible. The 1 (M8.-" While the ruda soldiery, amazed.". glee inaiden was a necessary attendant. Her duty was tumbling ** (M8.-"Should Ellen Douglas suffer wrong.") and dancing; and therefore the Anglo-Saxon version of Suint

(MS.

My Rose,'-- he wiped his iron eye and brow,Mark's Gospel states Herodias to have vaulted or tumbled be

Poor Rose,-if Rose be living now,"! fore King Herod. In Scotland, these poor creatures seeni, even at a late period, to have been bond women to their masters, as

• Though less to my purpose, I cannot belp noticing a circumstanceres appears from a case reported by Fountainhall. " Reid be moun

pacting another of the Mr Reid's attendants, which occurred during James tebank pursues Scot of Harden and his lady, for stealing away

II 's zeal for Catholic prowlyuam, and is told by Fountainhall, with dry Scob

tish irony. from him a little girl, called the tumbling-lassia, that danced upon

" Janucry 1711, 1697. --Rei) the mountebank is received into the

Popish church, and one of his blackamores was persuaded to accept of baptien his stage: and he claimed damages, and produced a contract, from the Popish priests, and totum Christian papist; whicb was a great tree whereby be bought her from her mother for 302 Scots. But we havo phy: he was called Jama, alter the king and chancellor, and the Apostle no slaves in Scotland, and mothers cannot sell their bairns; and James." -Ibid. p. HO.

Does thy high quest a knight require,

Portals they pass'd, where, deep within, Or may the venture suit a squire ?"

Spoke prisoner's moan, and fetters' din; Her dark eye flash'd ;--she paused and sigh'd, - Through rugged vaults, i where, loosely stor'd, "O what have I to do with pride!

Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword, -Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife, And many a hideous engine grim, A suppliant for a father's life.

For wrenching joint, and crushings limb, I crave an audience of the King.

By artists form'd, who deem'd it shame Behold, to back my suit, a ring,

And sin to give their work a name. The royal pledge of grateful claims,

They halted at a low brow'd porch,
Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James."*

And Brent to Allan gave the torch,
X.

While bolt and chain he backward rollid,
The signet-ring young Lewis took,

And made the bar unhasp its hold. With deep respect and alter'd look';

They enter'd :-'twas a prison-room And said, " This ring our duties own;

Of stern security and gloom, And pardon, if to worth unknown,

Yet not a dungeon; for the day la semblance mean obscurely veild,

Through lofty gratings found its way, Lady, in aught my folly fail'd.

And rude and antique garniture Soon as the day flings wide his gates,

Deck'd the sad walls and oaken floor;ll The King shall know what suitor waits.

Such as the rugged days of old Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower

Deem'd fit for captive noble's hold. Repose you till his waking hour;

“Here,” said De Brent, “thou mayst remainst Female attendance shall obey

Till the Leech visit him again. Your hest, for service or array..

Strict is his charge, the warders tell, Permit I marshal you the way."

To tend the noble prisoner well.” But ere she follow'd, with the grace

Retiring then the bolt he drew, And open bounty of her race,

And the lock's murmurs growlid anew. She både her slender purse be shared

Roused at the sound, from lowly bed Among the soldiers of the guard.

A captive feebly raised his head: The rest with thanks their guerdon took ;

The wondering Minstrel look'd, and knewBut Brent, with shy and awkward look,

Not his dear lord, but Roderick Dhu! On the reluctant maiden's hold

For, come from where Clan- Alpine fought, Forced bluntly back the proffer'd gold ;

They, erring, deem'd the Chief he sought. “Forgive a haughty English heart, And Ở forget its ruder part!

XIII. The vacant purse shall be my share,

As the tall ship, whose lofty prore Which in my barret-cap I'll bear,

Shall never stem the billows more, Perchance, in jeopardy of war,

Deserted by her gallant band,
Where gayer crests may keep afar."

Amid the breakers lies astrand, -
With thanks,-'twas all she could,- the maid So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhu!
His rugged courtesy repaid.

And oft his fever'd limbs he threw
XI.

In toss abrupt, as when her sides
When Ellen forth with Lewis went,

Lie rocking in the advancing tides, Allan made suit to John of Brent:

That shake her frame with ceaseless beat,

Yet cannot heave her from her seat;“My lady safe, O let your grace Give me to see my master's face!

O! how unlike her course at sea !** His minstrel 1,-io share his doom

Or his free step on hill and lea!Bound from the cradle to the tomb.

Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, Tenth in descent, since first my sires

"What of thy lady ?-of my clan ?Waked for his noble house their lyres,

My mother ?-Douglas ?-tell me all ? Nor one of all the race was known

Have they been ruin'd in my fall ? But prized its weal above their own.

Ah, yes ! or wherefore art thou here! With the Chief's birth begins our care;

Yet speak, ---speak boldly; ---do not fear.”

(For Allan, who his mood well knew, Our harp must soothe the infant heir, Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace

Was choked with grief and terror too.)--His earliest feat of field or chase;

"Who fought--who fled ?--Old man, be brief ;-In peace, in war, our rank we keep,

Some might--for they had lost their Chief. We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep,

Who basely live?-who bravely died ?"-, Nor leave him till we pour our verse,

'0, calm thee, Chief !” the Minstrel cried, A doleful tribute !-o'er his hearse.

“Ellen is safe;"'--"For that thank Heaven !"Then let me share his captive lot;

"And hopes are for the Douglas given ;It is my right-deny it not !"

The Lady Margaret too is well, "Little we reck," said John of Brent,

And, for thy clan,-on field or fell, "We Southern men, of long descent;

Has never harp of minstrel told, it Nor wot we how a name-à word

Of combat fought so true and bold. Makes clansmen vassals to a lord :

Thy stately Pine is yet unbent, Yet kind my noble landlord's parl,

Though many a goodly bough'is rent." God bless the house of Beaudesert!

XIV. And, but I loved to drive the deer,

The Chieftain reard his form on high,
More than to guide the labouring steer,

And fever's fire was in his eye;
I had not dwelt an outcast here.
Come, good old Minstrel follow me;

But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks

Checker'd his swarthy brow and cheeks. Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see.”

-"Hark, Minstrel! I have heard thee play, XII.

With measure bold, on festal day, Then, from a rusted iron hook,

In yon lone isle, ... again where ne'er A bunch of ponderous keys he took,

Shall harper play, or warrior hear!... Lighted a torch, and Allan led

That stirring air that peals on high, Through grated arch and passage dread.

O'er Dermid's race our victory. • (MS. -" The Monarch gave to James Fitz-James."

And then, retiring. bolt and chain, * (M8.-"The vilken purse shall serve for me,

And rusty bar, he drew again.
And in my barret-cap shall flee.")

Roused at the sound," &c.) 1 (MB.-"Low broad vaults.")

** (MS.-"0! how unlike her course on main! $M8. Stretching."

Or his free step on hill and plain!'') i MS. -"Flinty floor."

+1 (MS.-"Shall never barp of minstrel tell, 1 (MS. Thou mayst remain

Of combat fought so ficrce and well.")

Strike it !*-and then, (for well thou canst,) 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life,
Free from thy minstrel-spirit glanced,

One glance at their array !
Fling me the picture of the fight,

XVI. When met my clan the Saxon might.

"Their light-arm'd archers far and near I'll listen, till my fancy hears

Survey'd the tangled ground, The clang of swards, the crash of spears!

Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, These grates, these walls, shall vanish then,

A twilight forest frown'd, For the fair field of fighting men,

Their barbed horsemen, in the rear, And my free spirit burst away,.

The stern battalia crown'd. As if it soar'd from battle-fray.”

No cymbal clash’d, no clarion rang, The trembling Bard with awe obey'd, -

Still were the pipe and drum; Slow on the harp his hand he laid ;

Save heavy tread, and armour's clang, But soon remembrance of the sight

The sullen march was dumb. He witness'd from the mountain's height,

There breathed no wind their crests to shake, With what old Bertram told at night,

Or wave their flags abroad; Awaken'd the full power of song,

Scarce the frail aspen seem'd to quake, And bore him in career along;

That shadow'd o'er their road. As shallop launch'd on river's tide,

Their vaward scouts no tidings bring, That slow and fearful leaves the side,

Can rouse no lurking foe, But, when it feels the middle stream,

Nor spy a trace of living, thing,
Drives downward swift as lightning's beam.

Save when they stirr'd the roe;
XV.

The host moves, like a deep-sea wave,

Where rise no rocks its pride to brave,
BATTLE OF DEAL' AN DUINE.

High-swelling, dark, and slow.

The lake is pass'd, and now they gain 'The Minstrel came once more to view The eastern ridge of Benvenue,

A narrow and a broken plain,

Before the Trosach's rugged jaws;
For ere he parted, he would say

And here the horse and spearmen pause,
Farewell to lovely Loch Achray-
Where shall he find, in foreign land,

While, to explore the dangerous glen,
So lone a lake, so sweet a strand !-

Dive through the pass the archer-nien. There is no breeze upon the fern,

XVII. No ripple on the lake,

"At once there rose so wild a yell Upon her eyry nods the erne,

Within that dark and narrow dell, The deer has sought the brake;

As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, The small birds will not sing aloud,

Had peal'd the banner-cry of hell! The springing trout lies still,

Forth from the pass in tumult driven, So darkly glooms yon thunder-cloud,

Like chaff before the wind of heaven,
That swathes, as with a purple shroud,

The archery appear:
Benledi's distant hill.

For life! for life! their plight they ply-
Is it the thunder's solemn sound

And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, That mutters deep and dread,

And plaids and bonnets waving high, Or echoes from the groaning ground

And broadswords flashing to the sky, The warrior's measured tread ?

Are maddening in the rear. Is it the lightning's quivering glance

Onward they drive, in dreadful race, That on the thicket streams,

Pursuers and pursued; Or do they flash on spear and lance

Before that tide of fight and chase, The sun's retiring beams?

How shall it keep its rooted place; I see the dagger-crest of Mar,

The spearmen's twilight wood ?-I see the Moray's silver star,

Down, down,' cried Mar, 'your lances down! Waye o'er the cloud of Saxon war,

Bear back both friend and foe!' That up the lake comes winding far!

Like reeds before the tempest's frown, To hero bound for battle-strife,

That serried grove of lances brown Or bard of martial lay,

At once lay levellid low; * There are several instances, at least in tradition, of persons + [The MS. has not this line.] 80 much attached to particular tunes, as to require to hear them • A skirmish actually took place at a pass thus called in the on their deathbed. Such an anecdote is mentioned hy the late Trosachs, and closed with the remarkable incident mentioned in Mr. Riddel of Glennddel, in his collection of Border tunes, re the text. It was greatly posterior in date to the reign of James V specting an air called the "Dandling of the Bairns," for which a "In this roughly-wooded Island.* the country people secreted certain Gallovidian laird is said to have evinced this strong mark their wives and children, and their most

valuable efficie, from of partiality: It is popularly told of a famous freebooter, that he the rapacity of Cromwell's soldiers, during their inroud into the composed the tune known by the name of Macpherson's Rant country, in the time of the republie. These invaders, not ventuwhile under sentence of death, and played it at the gallows-tree. ring to ascend by the ladders, along the side of the lake, took a Some spirited words have been adapted to it by Burns. A simi more circuitous road, through the heart of the Trosachs, the most lar story is recounted of a Welsh bard, who composed and played frequented path at that time, which penetrates the wildernes on his death.bed the air called Dafyddy Garregg Wen. But the about half way between Binean and the lake, by a tract calleen most curious example is given by Brantome, of a maid of honour Yen-chilleach, or the Old Wife's Bog. at the court of France, entitled, Mademoiselle de Limeuil

. "Du "In one of the defiles of this by-road, the men of the country rant sa maladie, dont elle trebpussa, jamais elle ne corsa, ains at that time hung upon the rear of the invading enemy, and shol causa tousjours ; car elle estnit fort grande parleuse, brocardeuse, one of Cromwell's men, whose grave marks the scene of action, et tres-bien et fort a propos, et tres belle avec cela. Quand and gives name to that pass. In revenge of this insult the sal l'heure de sa fin fut venue, elle fit venir a soy son valet, (ainsi diers resolved to plunder the island, to violate the women, ard que le filles de la cour en ont chacune un) qui s'appelloit Julien, put the children to denth With this brutal intention, ons of the et scavoit tres-bien jouer du violon. 'Julien,' luy dit elle,"prenez party, more expert than the rest, swam towards the island, to vostre violon, et sonnez moy tousjours jusques a ce que me voyez fetch the boat to his comrades, which had carried the women to morte (car je m'y en vais) la defaite des Suisses, et le mieux que their asylum, and lay moored in one of the creeks. His.com vous pourrez, et quand vous serez sur le mot, Tout est perdu,' nions stood on the hore of the man

was to pass, waiting anxiously for his return with the boat. But pourrez," ce qui fit l'autre, et elle mesine uyandoit de la voix, et just as the swiminek had got 10 the nearest point of the island, quand ce vint 'tout est perdu,' elle le reitera par deux fois ; et se and was laying hold of a black rock, to get on shore, a heroinr, Tout est perdu à ce coup, et à bon escient;" ce salon corda: Marching a dagger from below her apron, with one stroke se vend Voila une morte joyeuse et plaisante. Je tiens ce conte de deux his head from the body. His party seeing this disaster, and release de ses compagnes, dignes de foi, qui virent jouer ce mystere." quishing all future hope of revenge or conguest, made the best Ocuore de Brantome, jii. 507. The tune to which this fair lady of their way out of their perilous situation. This amazon's great chose to make her final exit, was composed on the defeat of the grandson lives at Bridge of Turk, who, besides others, attesis the Swing at Marignano. The burden is quoted by Panurge, in Ra. anecdote."--Sketch of the Scenery near Callender. Surling: belais, and consists of these words, imitating the jargon of the 1806, p. 20. I have only to add t this account, that the heroine's Swiss, which is a mixture of French and German:

name was Helen Stuart.
Tout est velore
La Tintelore,

- That at the eastern extremity of Loch Katrine, so often mentioned in the Tout est verlore, bi Got!"

| Beallach an duine.

in full view of all that

text

And closely shouldering side to side,

While by the lake below appears The bristling ranks the onset bide.

The dark’ning cloud of Saxon spears.** "We'll quell the savage mountaineer,

At weary bay each shatter'd band, As their Tinchelt cows the game!

Eyeing their foemen, sternly stand; They come as fleet as forest deer,

Their banners stream like iatter'd sail,
We'll drive them back as tame.'-

That Hings its fragments to the gale,
XVIII.

And broken arms and disarray " Bearing before them, in their course,

Mark'd the fell havoc of the day. The relics of the archer force,

XX. Like wave with crest of sparkling foam,

Viewing the mountain's ridge askance, Right onward did Clan-Alpine come.

The Saxon stood in sullen trance, Above the tide, each broadsword bright

Till Moray pointed with his lance, Was brandishing like beam of light,

And cried-Behold yon isle ! Each targe was dark below;

See none are left to guard its strand, And with the ocean's mighty swing,

But women weak that wring the hand : When heaving to the tempest's wing,

'Tis there of yore the robber band Toey hurl'd them on the foe.

Their booty wont to pile ;I heard the lance's shivering crash,

My purse, with bonnet-pieces store, As when the whirlwind rends the ash;

To him will swim a bow-shot o'er, I heard the broadsword's deadly clang,

And loose a shallop from the shore. As if a hundred anvils rang!

Lightly we'll tame the war-wolf then, But Moray wheel'd his rearward rank

Lords of his mate, and brood and den.' Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine's Hank,

Forth from the ranks a spearman sprung, -"My banner-man advance!

On earth his casque and corslet rang, I see,' he cried, 'their column shake.-

He plung'd him in the wave :Now, gallants! for your ladies' sake,

All saw the deed- the purpose knew, Upon them with the lance !-

And to their clamours Benvenue The horsemen dash'd among the rout,

A mingled echo gave; As deer break through the broom;

The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer Their steeds are stout, their swords are out, The helpless females scream for fear, They soon make lightsome room.

And yells for rage the mountaineer. Clan- Alpine's best are backward bome- 'Twas then, as by the outcry riven, Where, where was Roderick then!

Pour'd down at once the lowering heaven; One blast upon his bugle-horn

A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine's breast, Were worth a thousand men.

Her billows rear'd their snowy crest. And refluent through the pass of feart

Well for the swimmer swellid they high, The battle's tide was pour'd;

To mar the Highland marksman's eye;. Vanish'd the Saxon's struggling spear,

For round him shower'd, 'mid rain and hail, Vanish'd the mountain sword.

The vengeful arrows of the Gael.-As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and steep, In vain.-He nears the isle--and lo! Receives her roaring linn,

His hand is on a shallop's bow. As the dark caverns of the deep

- Just then a flash of lightning came, Suck the wild whirlpool in,

It tinged the waves and strand with ħame;-tt So did the deep and dark some pass

I mark d Duncraggan's widow'd dame, Devour the battle's mingled mass:

Behind an oak I saw her stand, None linger now upon the plain,

A naked dirk gleam'd in her hand :Save those who ne'er shall fight again.

It darken'd, - but amid the moan

Of waves I heard a dying groan ;-XIX. "Now westward rolls the battle's din,

Another flash !--the spearman tioats

A weltering corse beside the boats,
That deep and doubling pass within.

And the stern Matron o'er hin stood,
-Instrel, away! the work of fates
Is bearing on : is issue wait,

Her hand and dagger streaming blood.

XXI.
Where the rude Trosach's dread defile
Opens on Katrine's lake and isle.-

"Revenge! revenge!' the Saxons cried, Gray Benvenue I soon repass'd,

The Gaels' exulting shout replied. Loch Katrine lay beneath me cas

Despite the elemental rage, The sun is set ;-the clouds are met,

Again they hurried to engage; The lowering scowl of heaven

But, ere they closed in desperate fight, An inky hue of livid blue

Bloody withi spurring came a knight, To the deep lake has given;

Sprung from his horse, and, from a crag, Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen

Waved '.wixt the hosts a milk-white flag. Swept o'er the lake, then sunk agen.

Clarion and trumpet by his side I heeded not the eddying surge,

Rung forth a truce-noie high and wide, Mine eye but saw the Trosach's gorge,

While, in the Monarch's name, afar Mine ear but heard the sullen sound,

A herald's voice forbade the war, Which like an earthquake shook the ground,

For Bothwell's lord, and Roderick bold, And spoke the stern and desperate strife

Were both, he said, 'in captive hold.” That parts not but with parting life,!!

-- But here the lay inade sudden stand, Seering, to minstrel-ear, to tolisi

The harp escaped the Minstrel's hand !The dirge of many a passing soul,

Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy Nearer it comes the dim-wood glen

How Roderick brook'd his minstrelsy : The martial food disgorged agen,

At first, the Chieftain, to the chime, But not in mingled tide;

With lifted hand, kept feeble time; The plaided warriors of the North

That motion ceased, -yet feeling strong High on the mountain thunder forth

Varied his look as changed the song;** And overhang its side;

" the loveliness in death

That parts not quite with parling breath."-BYRON'S Giaour.) (The MS. has not this couplet.)

T (MS.-"And seem'il, to minstrel eur, to toll * A circle of sportemen, who, by surrounding a great space, and

The parting diree of many a soul.") mually narrowing, brought immense quantities of deer together, ** (MS.—“While by the darken'd lake below, which aually made desperate efforts to break through the Tinchel

File out the spearmen ot' the foe.'') :(M. - And refluent down the darksonne pass

It (The MS. reads :-
The battle's tide was pour'd;

"It tinged the boats and lake with flame."
Thare toil'd the spearman's struggling spear The eight closing lines of the stanza are interpolated on a slip
There raged the mountain sword.')

of paper.) $ (MS.-" Away! away! the work of fate!'']

?? (M3.--"Glow'd in his look, as swell'd the song.")

At length, no more his deafen'd ear

XXIV. The minstrel melody can hear;

LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTEMAN. His face grows sharp-his hands are clench'd,

My hawk is tired of perch and hood,
As if some pang his heart-strings wrench'd;

My idle greyhound loaths his food,
Set are his teeth, his fading eye*
Is sternly fixed on vacancy;,

My horse is weary of his stall,

And I am sick of captive thrall.
Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew

I wish I were as I have been,
His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhul-
Old Allan-bane look'd on aghast,

Hunting the hart in forest green,

Witba bended bow and bloodhound free, While grim and still his spirit pass'd;

For that's the life is meet for me.** But when he saw that life was fled,

I hate to learn the ebb of time, He pour'd his wailing o'er the dead.

From yon dulltt steeple's drowsy chime,
XXII.

Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl,
LAMENT.

Inch after inch, along the wall. "And art thou cold and lowly laid,

The lark was wont my matins ring, # Thy foeman's dread, thy people's aid,

The sable rook my vespers sing; Breadalbane's boast, Clan-Alpine's shade!

These towers, although a king's they be, For thee shall none a requiem say?

Have not a hall of joy for me. SS
-For thee,-- who loved the minsirel's lay,
For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay,

"No more at dawning morn I rise,

And sun myself in Ellen's eyes, The shelter of her exiled line,

Drive the fleet deer the forest through, E'en in this prison-house of thine,

And homeward wend with evening dew; I'll wail for Alpine's honour'd Pine!

A blithesome welcome blithely meet, “What groans shall yonder valleys fill!

And lay my trophies at her feet, What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill!

While Hed the eve on wing of glee,What tears of burning rage shall thrill,

That life is lost to love and me!" When mourns thy tribe thy battles done,

XXV. Thy fall before the race was won,

The heart-sick lay was hardly said, Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun!

The lisi'ner had not turn'd her head, There breathes not clansman of thy line,

It trickled sull the starting tear, But would have given his life for thine.

When light a footstep struck her ear, O wo for Alpine's honour'd Pine!

And Snowdoun's graceful Knight was near. “Sad was thy lot on mortal stage !-

She turn'd the hastier, lest again The captive thrush may brook the cage,

The prisoner should renew his strain. The prison'd eagle dies for rage.

O welcome, brave Fitz-James!" she said; Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain!

“How may an almost orphan maid And, when its notes awake again,

Pay the deep debt". O

say not so! Even she, so long beloved in vain,

To me no gratitude you owe. Shall with my harp her voice combine,

Not mine, alas!, the boon to give, And inix her wo and tears with mine,

And bid thy noble father live;
To wail Clan-Alpine's honour'd Pine."

I can but he thy guide, sweet maid,
XXIII.

With Scotland's King thy suit to aid.
Ellen, the while, with bursting heart,

No tyrant he, though ire and pride Remain'd in lordly bower apart,

May lay his better mood aside. Where play'd, with many-coloured gleams,

Come, Ellen, come !--'tis more than time, Through storied pane the rising beams.

He holds his court at morning prime.' In vain on gilded roof they fall,

With bearing heart, and bosom wrung, And lighten'd up a tapestried wall,

As to a brother's arm she clung. And for her use a menial train

Gently he dried the falling tear, A rich collation spread in vain.

And gently whisper'd hope and cheer; The banquet proud, the chamber gay, ll

Her faltering steps half led, half staid, Scarce drew one curious glance astray;

Through gallery fair and high arcade, Or, if she jook'd, twas but to say,

Till, at his touch, its wings of pride With better omen dawn'd the day

A portal arch unfolded wide. In that lone isle, where waved on high

XXVI. The dun-deer's hide for canopy :

Within 'twas brilliant all and ligh1,|||| Where oft her noble father shared

thronging scene of figures bright; The simple meal her care prepared,

It glow'd on Ellen's dazzled sight, While Lufra, crouching by her side,

As when the setting sun has given Her station claim'd with jealous pride,

Ten thousand hues to summer even, And Douglas, bent on woodland game, t

And from their tissue, fancy frames Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Græme,

Aerial knights and fairy dames. Whose answer, oft at random made,

Still by Fitz-James her footing staid ; The wandering of his thoughts betray'd.--

A few faint steps she forward made, Those who such simple joys have known,

Then slow her drooping head she raised, Are taught to prize them when they're gone. And fearful round the presence gazed ; But sudden, see, she lifts her head 1

For him she sought, who own'd this state, FT The window seeks with cautious tread.

The dreaded prince whose will was fate! What distant music has the power

She gazed on many a princely port,
To win her in this woful hour!

Might well have ruled a royal court;
Twas from a turret that o'erhung
Her latticed bower, the strain was sung.

said to have expired before the dirge was finished."- Introdue
tion to Rob Roy. flarerley Novels, vol. i. p. 3.)

1 (MS. "Ănd art thou gone,' the Minstrel said.") * (MS. his { & fiery

SMS-" The mightiest of a mighty line.") + ("Rob Roy, while on bis deathbed, learned that a person, i Ms. -" The banquet yay, the chanber's pride.. with whom he was at enmity, proposed to visit bim. Raise me

Searce drew one curious glance aside.") from my bed,' said the invalid ; throw my plaid around me, and TIMS. earnest on his game.") bring me my claymore, dirk, and pistols, it shall never be said

** (MS

-" was meant for me.") that a foeman saw Rob Roy MacGregor defencelexsand unarmed.' It (MS." From darken'd sterple's.") His forman, conjectured to be one of the MacLarens before and 11 (MS.-" The lively lark my matins rung, after mentioned, entered and paid his compliments inquiring

The cable rook my vespers sung.") after the health of his formidable neighbour. Rob Roy main

$6 (MS Hare not a ball should harbour me.") tained a cold baughty civility during their short conference; and BA (NIS. Within 'twas brilliant all and bright, 80 soon as he had let the house, 'Now,' he sud, 'all in over--let

The vision glow'd on Ellen's sight.") he piper play, Ha itl mi tulidhi' (we return no more,) and he is 19 (MS.--"For him who own'd this royal state.")

$ glaring ere."

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