I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far As ever peasant pitched a bar!'— 'Thanks, champion, thanks!' the maniac cried, And pressed her to Fitz-James's side. 'See the gray pennons I prepare, To seek my true-love through the air! I will not lend that savage groom, To break his fall, one downy plume! No! Deep amid disjointed stones, The wolves shall batten on his bones, And then shall his detested plaid, By bush and brier in mid air stayed, Wave forth a banner fair and free, Meet signal for their revelry.'
XXIV
'Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still!' 'Oh! thou look'st kindly and I will. Mine eye has dried and wasted been, But still it loves the Lincoln green; And, though mine ear is all unstrung, Still, still it loves the Lowland tongue.'For O my sweet William was forester true, He stole poor Blanche's heart away! His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, And so blithely he trilled the Lowland lay!'It was not that I meant to tell.... But thou art wise and guessest well.' Then, in a low and broken tone, And hurried note, the song went on. Still on the Clansman, fearfully, She fixed her apprehensive eye; Then turned it on the Knight, and then Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen.
XXV
'The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, Ever sing merrily, merrily; The bows they bend, and the knives they whet, Hunters live so cheerily.'It was a stag, a stag of ten, Bearing its branches sturdily; He came stately down the glen, Ever sing hardily, hardily.'It was there he met with a wounded doe, She was bleeding deathfully; She warned him of the toils below, Oh, so faithfully, faithfully!'He had an eye, and he could heed, Ever sing warily, warily; He had a foot, and he could speed— Hunters watch so narrowly.'
XXVI
Fitz-James's mind was passion-tossed, When Ellen's hints and fears were lost; But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought, And Blanche's song conviction brought.
