'The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears; The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears. O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave, Emblem of hope and love through future years!' Thus spake young Norman, heir of Armandave, What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad wave.
II
Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue. All while he stripped the wild-rose spray, His ax and bow beside him lay, For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood, A wakeful sentinel he stood. Hark! on the rock a footstep rung, And instant to his arms he sprung. 'Stand, or thou diest!—What, Malise?—soon Art thou returned from Braes of Doune. By thy keen step and glance I know, Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe.' For while the Fiery Cross hied on, On distant scout had Malise gone.— 'Where sleeps the Chief?' the henchman said. 'Apart, in yonder misty glade; To his lone couch I'll be your guide.' Then called a slumberer by his side, And stirred him with his slackened bow— 'Up, up, Glantarkin! rouse thee, ho! We seek the Chieftain; on the track, Keep eagle watch till I come back.'
III
Together up the pass they sped: 'What of the foeman?' Norman said. 'Varying reports from near and far; This certain—that a band of war Has for two days been ready boune, At prompt command, to march from Doune; King James, the while, with princely powers, Holds revelry in Stirling towers. Soon will this dark and gathering cloud Speak on our glens in thunder loud. Inured to bide such bitter bout, The warrior's plaid may bear it out; But, Norman, how wilt thou provide A shelter for thy bonny bride?' 'What! know ye not that Roderick's care To the lone isle hath caused repair Each maid and matron of the clan,
