THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Walter Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ And Ellen sits on the gray 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 cowed by the approaching storm.

       I saw their boats with many a light,

       Floating the livelong 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?’

       X

      Ellen.

      ‘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 report 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 Graeme in fetters bound,

       Which I, thou saidst, about him wound.

       Think’st thou he bowed thine omen aught?

       O no’ ‘t was 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 dare not pause.

       Why else that solemn warning given,

       ‘If not on earth, we meet in heaven!’

       Why else, to Cambuskenneth’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!’

       XI

      ‘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 Graeme,—

       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 spot!

       Of such a wondrous tale I know—

       Dear lady, change that look of woe,

       My harp was wont thy grief to cheer.’

      Ellen.

      ‘Well, be it as thou wilt;

       I hear, But cannot stop the bursting tear.’

       The Minstrel tried his simple art,

       Rut distant far was Ellen’s heart.

       XII

      Ballad.

      Alice Brand.

      Merry it is in the good greenwood,

       When the mavis and merle are singing,

       When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry,

       And the hunter’s horn is ringing.

      ‘O Alice Brand, my native land

       Is lost for love of you;

       And we must hold by wood and word,

       As outlaws wont to do.

      ‘O Alice, ‘t was all for thy locks so bright,

       And ‘t was 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 СКАЧАТЬ