Thou couldst not! Well! Clan-Alpine's men Shall man the Trossachs' shaggy glen; Within Loch Katrine's gorge we'll fight, All in our maids' and matrons' sight, Each for his hearth and household fire, Father for child, and son for sire— Lover for maid beloved! But why— Is it the breeze affects mine eye? Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear! A messenger of doubt and fear? No! sooner may the Saxon lance Unfix Benledi from his stance, Than doubt or terror can pierce through The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu! 'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe. Each to his post—all know their charge.' The pibroch sounds, the bands advance, The broadswords gleam, the banners dance, Obedient to the Chieftain's glance. —I turn me from the martial roar, And seek Coir-Uriskin once more.
IX
Where is the Douglas?—he is gone; 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 live-long 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 the report of battle rife, He deems himself the cause of strife.
