THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO FIRST. The Chase. ང HARP of the North! that mouldering long hast hung On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring, And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, Till envious ivy did around thee cling, Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, O minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep? Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring, Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep, Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep? Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, At each according pause, was heard aloud Was Knighthood's dauntless deed, and Beauty's matchless eye. O wake once more! how rude soe'er the hand Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, The wizard note has not been touch'd in vain. Then silent be no more! Enchantress, wake again! THE I. HE Stag at eve had drunk his fill, But, when the sun his beacon red Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, The deep-mouth'd blood-hound's heavy bay Resounded up the rocky way, And faint, from farther distance borne, Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. II. As Chief, who hears his warder call, "To arms! the foemen storm the wall," The antler'd monarch of the waste Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. The dew-drops from his flanks he shook ; That thicken'd as the chase drew nigh; Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. III. Yell'd on the view the opening pack, Rock, glen, and cavern, paid them back; To many a mingled sound at once The awaken'd mountain gave response. |