Laurel · Walter Scott · The Lady of the Lake

Canto Third: The Gathering

Walter Scott (1771–1832) · 1810

iambic tetrameter · octosyllabic couplets · 633 lines · from The Lady of the Lake

Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore,Who danced our infancy upon their knee,And told our marvelling boyhood legends storeOf their strange ventures happed by land or sea,How are they blotted from the things that be!How few, all weak and withered of their force,Wait on the verge of dark eternity,Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse,To sweep them from out sight! Time rolls his ceaseless course.

Yet live there still who can remember well,How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew,Both field and forest, dingle, cliff; and dell,And solitary heath, the signal knew;And fast the faithful clan around him drew.What time the warning note was keenly wound,What time aloft their kindred banner flew,While clamorous war-pipes yelled the gathering sound,And while the Fiery Cross glanced like a meteor, round.

The Summer dawn's reflected hueTo purple changed Loch Katrine blue;Mildly and soft the western breezeJust kissed the lake, just stirred the trees,And the pleased lake, like maiden coy,Trembled but dimpled not for joyThe mountain-shadows on her breastWere neither broken nor at rest;In bright uncertainty they lie,Like future joys to Fancy's eye.The water-lily to the lightHer chalice reared of silver bright;The doe awoke, and to the lawn,Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn;The gray mist left the mountain-side,The torrent showed its glistening pride;Invisible in flecked sky The lark sent clown her revelry:The blackbird and the speckled thrushGood-morrow gave from brake and bush;In answer cooed the cushat doveHer notes of peace and rest and love.

No thought of peace, no thought of rest,Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast.With sheathed broadsword in his hand,Abrupt he paced the islet strand,And eyed the rising sun, and laidHis hand on his impatient blade.Beneath a rock, his vassals' careWas prompt the ritual to prepare,With deep and deathful meaning fraught;For such Antiquity had taughtWas preface meet, ere yet abroadThe Cross of Fire should take its road.The shrinking band stood oft aghastAt the impatient glance he cast;--Such glance the mountain eagle threw,As, from the cliffs of Benvenue,She spread her dark sails on the wind,And, high in middle heaven reclined,With her broad shadow on the lake,Silenced the warblers of the brake.

A heap of withered boughs was piled,Of juniper and rowan wild,Mingled with shivers from the oak,Rent by the lightning's recent stroke.Brian the Hermit by it stood,Barefooted, in his frock and hood.His grizzled beard and matted hairObscured a visage of despair;His naked arms and legs, seamed o'er,The scars of frantic penance bore.That monk, of savage form and faceThe impending danger of his raceHad drawn from deepest solitudeFar in Benharrow's bosom rude.Not his the mien of Christian priest,But Druid's, from the grave releasedWhose hardened heart and eye might brookOn human sacrifice to look;And much, 't was said, of heathen loreMixed in the charms he muttered o'er.The hallowed creed gave only worseAnd deadlier emphasis of curse.No peasant sought that Hermit's prayerHis cave the pilgrim shunned with care,The eager huntsman knew his boundAnd in mid chase called off his hound;'Or if, in lonely glen or strath,The desert-dweller met his pathHe prayed, and signed the cross between,While terror took devotion's mien.

Of Brian's birth strange tales were told.His mother watched a midnight fold,Built deep within a dreary glen,Where scattered lay the bones of menIn some forgotten battle slain,And bleached by drifting wind and rain.It might have tamed a warrior's heartTo view such mockery of his art!The knot-grass fettered there the handWhich once could burst an iron band;Beneath the broad and ample bone,That bucklered heart to fear unknown,A feeble and a timorous guest,The fieldfare framed her lowly nest;There the slow blindworm left his slimeOn the fleet limbs that mocked at time;And there, too, lay the leader's skullStill wreathed with chaplet, flushed and full,For heath-bell with her purple bloomSupplied the bonnet and the plume.All night, in this sad glen the maidSat shrouded in her mantle's shade:She said no shepherd sought her side,No hunter's hand her snood untied.Yet ne'er again to braid her hairThe virgin snood did Alive wear;Gone was her maiden glee and sport,Her maiden girdle all too short,Nor sought she, from that fatal night,Or holy church or blessed riteBut locked her secret in her breast,And died in travail, unconfessed.

Alone, among his young compeers,Was Brian from his infant years;A moody and heart-broken boy,Estranged from sympathy and joyBearing each taunt which careless tongueOn his mysterious lineage flung.Whole nights he spent by moonlight paleTo wood and stream his teal, to wail,Till, frantic, he as truth receivedWhat of his birth the crowd believed,And sought, in mist and meteor fire,To meet and know his Phantom Sire!In vain, to soothe his wayward fate,The cloister oped her pitying gate;In vain the learning of the ageUnclasped the sable-lettered page;Even in its treasures he could findFood for the fever of his mind.Eager he read whatever tellsOf magic, cabala, and spells,And every dark pursuit alliedTo curious and presumptuous pride;Till with fired brain and nerves o'erstrung,And heart with mystic horrors wrung,Desperate he sought Benharrow's den,And hid him from the haunts of men.

The desert gave him visions wild,Such as might suit the spectre's child.Where with black cliffs the torrents toil,He watched the wheeling eddies boil,Jill from their foam his dazzled eyesBeheld the River Demon rise:The mountain mist took form and limbOf noontide hag or goblin grim;The midnight wind came wild and dread,Swelled with the voices of the dead;Far on the future battle-heathHis eye beheld the ranks of death:Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurled,Shaped forth a disembodied world.One lingering sympathy of mindStill bound him to the mortal kind;The only parent he could claimOf ancient Alpine's lineage came.Late had he heard, in prophet's dream,The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream;Sounds, too, had come in midnight blastOf charging steeds, careering fastAlong Benharrow's shingly side,Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride;The thunderbolt had split the pine,--All augured ill to Alpine's line.He girt his loins, and came to showThe signals of impending woe,And now stood prompt to bless or ban,As bade the Chieftain of his clan.

'T was all prepared;--and from the rockA goat, the patriarch of the flock,Before the kindling pile was laid,And pierced by Roderick's ready blade.Patient the sickening victim eyedThe life-blood ebb in crimson tideDown his clogged beard and shaggy limb,Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim.The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer,A slender crosslet framed with care,A cubit's length in measure due;The shaft and limbs were rods of yew,Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach waveTheir shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave,And, answering Lomond's breezes deep,Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep.The Cross thus formed he held on high,With wasted hand and haggard eye,And strange and mingled feelings woke,While his anathema he spoke:--

'Woe to the clansman who shall viewThis symbol of sepulchral yew,Forgetful that its branches grewWhere weep the heavens their holiest dewOn Alpine's dwelling low!Deserter of his Chieftain's trust,He ne'er shall mingle with their dust,But, from his sires and kindred thrust,Each clansman's execration justShall doom him wrath and woe.'He paused;--the word the vassals took,With forward step and fiery look,On high their naked brands they shook,Their clattering targets wildly strook;And first in murmur low,Then like the billow in his course,That far to seaward finds his source,And flings to shore his mustered force,Burst with loud roar their answer hoarse,'Woe to the traitor, woe!'Ben-an's gray scalp the accents knew,The joyous wolf from covert drew,The exulting eagle screamed afar,--They knew the voice of Alpine's war.

The shout was hushed on lake and fell,The Monk resumed his muttered spell:Dismal and low its accents came,The while he scathed the Cross with flame;And the few words that reached the air,Although the holiest name was there,Had more of blasphemy than prayer.But when he shook above the crowdIts kindled points, he spoke aloud:--'Woe to the wretch who fails to rearAt this dread sign the ready spear!For, as the flames this symbol sear,His home, the refuge of his fear,A kindred fate shall know;Far o'er its roof the volumed flameClan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim,While maids and matrons on his nameShall call down wretchedness and shame,And infamy and woe.'Then rose the cry of females, shrillAs goshawk's whistle on the hill,Denouncing misery and ill,Mingled with childhood's babbling trillOf curses stammered slow;Answering with imprecation dread,'Sunk be his home in embers red!And cursed be the meanest shedThat o'er shall hide the houseless headWe doom to want and woe!'A sharp and shrieking echo gave,Coir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave!And the gray pass where birches waveOn Beala-nam-bo.

Then deeper paused the priest anew,And hard his laboring breath he drew,While, with set teeth and clenched hand,And eyes that glowed like fiery brand,He meditated curse more dread,And deadlier, on the clansman's headWho, summoned to his chieftain's aid,The signal saw and disobeyed.The crosslet's points of sparkling woodHe quenched among the bubbling blood.And, as again the sign he reared,Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard:'When flits this Cross from man to man,Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan,Burst be the ear that fails to heed!Palsied the foot that shuns to speed!May ravens tear the careless eyes,Wolves make the coward heart their prize!As sinks that blood-stream in the earth,So may his heart's-blood drench his hearth!As dies in hissing gore the spark,Quench thou his light, Destruction dark!And be the grace to him denied,Bought by this sign to all beside!He ceased; no echo gave againThe murmur of the deep Amen.

Then Roderick with impatient lookFrom Brian's hand the symbol took:'Speed, Malise, speed' he said, and gaveThe crosslet to his henchman brave.'The muster-place be Lanrick mead--Instant the time---speed, Malise, speed!'Like heath-bird, when the hawks pursue,A barge across Loch Katrine flew:High stood the henchman on the prow;So rapidly the barge-mall row,The bubbles, where they launched the boat,Were all unbroken and afloat,Dancing in foam and ripple still,When it had neared the mainland hill;And from the silver beach's sideStill was the prow three fathom wide,When lightly bounded to the landThe messenger of blood and brand.

Speed, Malise, speed! the dun deer's hideOn fleeter foot was never tied.Speed, Malise, speed! such cause of hasteThine active sinews never braced.Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast,Burst down like torrent from its crest;With short and springing footstep passThe trembling bog and false morass;Across the brook like roebuck bound,And thread the brake like questing hound;The crag is high, the scaur is deep,Yet shrink not from the desperate leap:Parched are thy burning lips and brow,Yet by the fountain pause not now;Herald of battle, fate, and fear,Stretch onward in thy fleet career!The wounded hind thou track'st not now,Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough,Nor priest thou now thy flying paceWith rivals in the mountain race;But danger, death, and warrior deedAre in thy course--speed, Malise, speed!

Fast as the fatal symbol flies,In arms the huts and hamlets rise;From winding glen, from upland brown,They poured each hardy tenant down.Nor slacked the messenger his pace;He showed the sign, he named the place,And, pressing forward like the wind,Left clamor and surprise behind.The fisherman forsook the strand,The swarthy smith took dirk and brand;With changed cheer, the mower blitheLeft in the half-cut swath his scythe;The herds without a keeper strayed,The plough was in mid-furrow staved,The falconer tossed his hawk away,The hunter left the stag at hay;Prompt at the signal of alarms,Each son of Alpine rushed to arms;So swept the tumult and affrayAlong the margin of Achray.Alas, thou lovely lake! that e'erThy banks should echo sounds of fear!The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleepSo stilly on thy bosom deep,The lark's blithe carol from the cloudSeems for the scene too gayly loud.

Speed, Malise, speed! The lake is past,Duncraggan's huts appear at last,And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seenHalf hidden in the copse so green;There mayst thou rest, thy labor done,Their lord shall speed the signal on.--As stoops the hawk upon his prey,The henchman shot him down the way.What woful accents load the gale?The funeral yell, the female wail!A gallant hunter's sport is o'er,A valiant warrior fights no more.Who, in the battle or the chase,At Roderick's side shall fill his place!--Within the hall, where torch's raySupplies the excluded beams of day,Lies Duncan on his lowly bier,And o'er him streams his widow's tear.His stripling son stands mournful by,His youngest weeps, but knows not why;The village maids and matrons roundThe dismal coronach resound.

He is gone on the mountain,He is lost to the forest,Like a summer-dried fountain,When our need was the sorest.The font, reappearing,From the rain-drops shall borrow,But to us comes no cheering,To Duncan no morrow!

The hand of the reaperTakes the ears that are hoary,But the voice of the weeperWails manhood in glory.The autumn winds rushingWaft the leaves that are searest,But our flower was in flushing,When blighting was nearest.

Fleet foot on the correi,Sage counsel in cumber,Red hand in the foray,How sound is thy slumber!Like the dew on the mountain,Like the foam on the river,Like the bubble on the fountain,Thou art gone, and forever!

See Stumah, who, the bier besideHis master's corpse with wonder eyed,Poor Stumah! whom his least hallooCould send like lightning o'er the dew,Bristles his crest, and points his ears,As if some stranger step he hears.'T is not a mourner's muffled tread,Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead,But headlong haste or deadly fearUrge the precipitate career.All stand aghast:--unheeding all,The henchman bursts into the hall;Before the dead man's bier he stood,Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood;'The muster-place is Lanrick mead;Speed forth the signal! clansmen, speed!'

Angus, the heir of Duncan's line,Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign.In haste the stripling to his sideHis father's dirk and broadsword tied;But when he saw his mother's eyeWatch him in speechless agony,Back to her opened arms he flewPressed on her lips a fond adieu,--'Alas' she sobbed,--'and yet be gone,And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son!'One look he cast upon the bier,Dashed from his eye the gathering tear,Breathed deep to clear his laboring breast,And tossed aloft his bonnet crest,Then, like the high-bred colt when, freed,First he essays his fire and speed,He vanished, and o'er moor and mossSped forward with the Fiery Cross.Suspended was the widow's tearWhile yet his footsteps she could hear;And when she marked the henchman's eyeWet with unwonted sympathy,'Kinsman,' she said, 'his race is runThat should have sped thine errand on.The oak teas fallen?--the sapling bough Is allDuncraggan's shelter nowYet trust I well, his duty done,The orphan's God will guard my son.--And you, in many a danger trueAt Duncan's hest your blades that drew,To arms, and guard that orphan's head!Let babes and women wail the dead.'Then weapon-clang and martial callResounded through the funeral hall,While from the walls the attendant bandSnatched sword and targe with hurried hand;And short and flitting energyGlanced from the mourner's sunken eye,As if the sounds to warrior dearMight rouse her Duncan from his bier.But faded soon that borrowed force;Grief claimed his right, and tears their course.

Benledi saw the Cross of Fire,It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire.O'er dale and hill the summons flew,Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew;The tear that gathered in his eyeHe deft the mountain-breeze to dry;Until, where Teith's young waters rollBetwixt him and a wooded knollThat graced the sable strath with green,The chapel of Saint Bride was seen.Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge,But Angus paused not on the edge;Though the clerk waves danced dizzily,Though reeled his sympathetic eye,He dashed amid the torrent's roar:His right hand high the crosslet bore,His left the pole-axe grasped, to guideAnd stay his footing in the tide.He stumbled twice,--the foam splashed high,With hoarser swell the stream raced by;And had he fallen,--forever there,Farewell Duncraggan's orphan heir!But still, as if in parting life,Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife,Until the opposing bank he gained,And up the chapel pathway strained.A blithesome rout that morning-tideHad sought the chapel of Saint Bride.Her troth Tombea's Mary gaveTo Norman, heir of Armandave,And, issuing from the Gothic arch,The bridal now resumed their march.In rude but glad procession cameBonneted sire and coif-clad dame;And plaided youth, with jest and jeerWhich snooded maiden would not hear:And children, that, unwitting why,Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry;And minstrels, that in measures viedBefore the young and bonny bride,Whose downcast eye and cheek discloseThe tear and blush of morning rose.With virgin step and bashful handShe held the kerchief's snowy band.The gallant bridegroom by her sideBeheld his prize with victor's pride.And the glad mother in her earWas closely whispering word of cheer.

Who meets them at the churchyard gate?The messenger of fear and fate!Haste in his hurried accent lies,And grief is swimming in his eyes.All dripping from the recent flood,Panting and travel-soiled he stood,The fatal sign of fire and swordHeld forth, and spoke the appointed word:'The muster-place is Lanrick mead;Speed forth the signal! Norman, speed!'And must he change so soon the handJust linked to his by holy band,For the fell Cross of blood and brand?And must the day so blithe that rose,And promised rapture in the close,Before its setting hour, divideThe bridegroom from the plighted bride?O fatal doom'--it must! it must!Clan-Alpine's cause, her Chieftain's trust,Her summons dread, brook no delay;Stretch to the race,--away! away!

Yet slow he laid his plaid aside,And lingering eyed his lovely bride,Until he saw the starting tearSpeak woe he might not stop to cheer:Then, trusting not a second look,In haste he sped hind up the brook,Nor backward glanced till on the heathWhere Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teith,--What in the racer's bosom stirred?The sickening pang of hope deferred,And memory with a torturing trainOf all his morning visions vain.Mingled with love's impatience, cameThe manly thirst for martial fame;The stormy joy of mountaineersEre yet they rush upon the spears;And zeal for Clan and Chieftain burning,And hope, from well-fought field returning,With war's red honors on his crest,To clasp his Mary to his breast.Stung by such thoughts, o'er bank and brae,Like fire from flint he glanced away,While high resolve and feeling strongBurst into voluntary song.

The heath this night must be my bed,The bracken curtain for my head,My lullaby the warder's tread,Far, far, from love and thee, Mary;To-morrow eve, more stilly laid,My couch may be my bloody plaid,My vesper song thy wail, sweet maid!It will not waken me, Mary!

I may not, dare not, fancy nowThe grief that clouds thy lovely brow,I dare not think upon thy vow,And all it promised me, Mary.No fond regret must Norman know;When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe,His heart must be like bended bow,His foot like arrow free, Mary.

A time will come with feeling fraught,For, if I fall in battle fought,Thy hapless lover's dying thoughtShall be a thought on thee, Mary.And if returned from conquered foes,How blithely will the evening close,How sweet the linnet sing repose,To my young bride and me, Mary!

Ave. Maria! maiden mild!Listen to a maiden's prayer!Thou canst hear though from the wild,Thou canst save amid despair.Safe may we sleep beneath thy care,Though banished, outcast, and reviled--Maiden! hear a maiden's prayer;Mother, hear a suppliant child!Ave Maria!

Ave Maria! undefiled!The flinty couch we now must shareShall seem with down of eider piled,If thy protection hover there.The murky cavern's heavy airShall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled;Then, Maiden! hear a maiden's prayer,Mother, list a suppliant child!Ave Maria!

Ave. Maria! stainless styled!Foul demons of the earth and air,From this their wonted haunt exiled,Shall flee before thy presence fair.We bow us to our lot of care,Beneath thy guidance reconciled:Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer,And for a father hear a child!Ave Maria!

Died on the harp the closing hymn,--Unmoved in attitude and limb,As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lordStood leaning on his heavy sword,Until the page with humble signTwice pointed to the sun's decline.Then while his plaid he round him cast,'It is the last time--'tis the last,'He muttered thrice,--'the last time e'erThat angel-voice shall Roderick hear''It was a goading thought,--his strideHied hastier down the mountain-side;Sullen he flung him in the boatAn instant 'cross the lake it shot.They landed in that silvery bay,And eastward held their hasty wayTill, with the latest beams of light,The band arrived on Lanrick height'Where mustered in the vale belowClan-Alpine's men in martial show.

A various scene the clansmen made:Some sat, some stood, some slowly strayed:But most, with mantles folded round,Were couched to rest upon the ground,Scarce to be known by curious eyeFrom the deep heather where they lie,So well was matched the tartan screenWith heath-bell dark and brackens green;Unless where, here and there, a bladeOr lance's point a glimmer made,Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade.But when, advancing through the gloom,They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume,Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide,Shook the steep mountain's steady side.Thrice it arose, and lake and fellThree times returned the martial yell;It died upon Bochastle's plain,And Silence claimed her evening reign.

Words in this poem 148

ceaseless a.: Without pause or end; incessant.
yore adv.: In time long past; in old time; long since. [OE. , yare, , AS. geára;akin to geár a year, E. year. Year.]
boyhood n.: The state of being a boy; the time during which one is a boy. [Boy + -hood.]
happed p. a.: Wrapped; covered; cloaked. [From 1st Hap.]
dingle n.: A narrow dale; a small dell; a small, secluded, and embowered valley. [Of uncertain origin: cf. AS. ding prison; or perh. akin to dimble.]
dell n.: A small, retired valley; a ravine. [AS. del, akin to E. dale; cf. D. delle, del, low ground. See Dale.]
keenly adv.: In a keen manner.
loch n.: A lake; a bay or arm of the sea. [Gael. & Olr. loch. See Lake of water.]
chalice n.: A cup or bowl; especially, the cup used in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. [OR. chalis, calice, OF. chalice, calice, F. calice, fr. L. calix, akin to Gr. helmet. Cf. Calice, Calyx.]
cushat n.: The ringdove or wood pigeon. [AS. cusceote.]
broadsword n.: A sword with a broad blade and a cutting edge; a claymore.
islet n.: A little island. [OF. islette (cf. F. îlot), dim. of isle.]
deathful a.: Full of death or slaughter; murderous; destructive; bloody.
fraught n.: A freight; a cargo. [OE.fraight, fraght; akin to Dan. fragt, Sw. frakt, D. vracht, G. fracht, cf. OHG. fr merit, reward; perh. from corresponding to E. for + The root of E. own. Cf.]
reclined a.: Falling or turned downward; reclinate.
piled a.: Having a pile or point; pointed. [From 2d Pile.]
barefooted a.: Having the feet bare.
visage n.: The face, countenance, or look of a person or an animal; -- chiefly applied to the human face. [F. visage, from L. visus a seeing, a look, fr. videre, visum, to see. See Vision.]
seamed a.: Out of condition; not in good condition; -- said of a hawk.
huntsman n.: One who hunts, or who practices hunting.
strath n.: A valley of considerable size, through which a river runs; a valley bottom; -- often used in composition with the name of the river; as, Strath Spey, Strathdon, Strathmore. [Gael. srath.]
dreary a.: Sorrowful; distressful. [OE. dreori, dreri, AS. dreórig, sad; akin to G. traurig, and prob. to AS. dreósan to fall, Goth. driusan. Cf. Dross, Drear, Drizzle, Drowse.]
bleached a.: Whitened; make white.
fettered a.: Seeming as if fettered, as the feet pf certain animals which bend backward, and appear unfit for walking.
blindworm n.: A small, burrowing, snakelike, limbless lizard (Anguis fragilis), with minute eyes, popularly believed to be blind; the slowworm; -- formerly a name for the adder.
chaplet n.: A garland or wreath to be worn on the head. [F. chapelet, dim. of OF. chapel hat, garland, dim. fr. LL. cappa. See Cap, and cf. Chapelet, Chapeau.]
snood n.: The fillet which binds the hair of a young unmarried woman, and is emblematic of her maiden character. [AS. sn. Cf. Snare.]
glee n.: Music; minstrelsy; entertainment.
teal n.: Any one of several species of small fresh-water ducks of the genus Anas and the subgenera Querquedula and Nettion. The male is handsomely colored, and has a bright green or blue speculum on the wings. [OE. tele; akin to D. teling a generation, production, teal, telen to breed, produce, and E. till to cultivate. The English word probably once meant, a brood or ]
sire n.: A lord, master, or other person in authority. See Sir. [F. sire, originally, an older person. See Sir.]
soothe v. t.: To assent to as true. Testament of Love. [Originally, to assent to as true; OE. so to verify, AS. ges to prove the truth of, to bear witness. See Sooth, a.]
wayward a.: Taking one's own way; disobedient; froward; perverse; willful. [OE. weiward, for aweiward, i. e., turned away. See Away, and -ward.]
pitying a.: Expressing pity; as, a pitying eye, glance, or word.
sable n.: A carnivorous animal of the Weasel family (Mustela zibellina) native of the northern latitudes of Europe, Asia, and America, -- noted for its fine, soft, and valuable fur. [OF. sable, F. zibeline sable (in sense 4), LL. sabellum; cf. D. sabel, Dan. sabel, zobel, Sw. sabel, sobel, G. zobel; all fr. Russ. sóbole.]
curious a.: Difficult to please or satisfy; solicitous to be correct; careful; scrupulous; nice; exact. [OF. curios, curius, F. curieux, L. curiosus careful, inquisitive, fr. cura care. See Cure.]
desperate a.: Without hope; given to despair; hopeless. [L. desperatus, p. p. of desperare. See Despair, and cf. Desperado.]
wheeling n.: The act of conveying anything, or traveling, on wheels, or in a wheeled vehicle.
jill n.: A young woman; a sweetheart. See Gill. Beau. & Fl. [See Gill sweetheart.]
noontide n.: The time of noon; midday. [From noon + tide time; cf. AS. n the ninth hour.]
lone n.: A lane. See Loanin.
boding a.: Foreshowing; presaging; ominous.
shingly a.: Abounding with shingle, or gravel.
thunderbolt n.: A shaft of lightning; a brilliant stream of electricity passing from one part of the heavens to another, or from the clouds to the earth.
girt v. t.: To gird; to encircle; to invest by means of a girdle; to measure the girth of; as, to girt a tree. [From Girt, n., cf. Girth, v.]
bade: A form of the pat tense of Bid.
sickening a.: Causing sickness; specif., causing surfeit or disgust; nauseating.
crosslet a.: Crossed again; -- said of a cross the arms of which are crossed. SeeCross-crosslet.
haggard a.: Wild or intractable; disposed to break away from duty; untamed; as, a haggard or refractory hawk. Shak [F. hagard; of German origin, and prop. meaning, of the hegde or woods, wild, untamed. See Hedge, 1st Haw, and -ard.]
anathema n.: A ban or curse pronounced with religious solemnity by ecclesiastical authority, and accompanied by excommunication. Hence: Denunciation of anything as accursed. [L. anath, fr. Gr. anath, fr. Gr. Thesis.]
spoke n.: The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
clansman n.: One belonging to the same clan with another.
shall v. i.: To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
forgetful a.: Apt to forget; easily losing remembrance; as, a forgetful man should use helps to strengthen his memory.
shook v. t.: To pack, as staves, in a shook.
billow n.: A great wave or surge of the sea or other water, caused usually by violent wind. [Cf. Icel. bylgja billow, Dan. bölge, Sw. bölja; akin to MHG. bulge billow, bag, and to E. bulge. See Bulge.]
seaward a.: Directed or situated toward the sea. Donne.
exulting a.: Rejoicing triumphantly or exceedingly; exultant.
afar adv.: At, to, or from a great distance; far away; -- often used with from preceding, or off following; as, he was seen from afar; I saw him afar off. [Pref. a-.(for on or of) + far.]
dismal a.: Fatal; ill-omened; unlucky. [Formerly a noun; e. g., "I trow it was in the dismalle." Chaucer. Of uncertain origin; but perh. (as suggested by Skeat) from OF. disme, F. dîme, tithe, the phr]
aloud adv.: With a loud voice, or great noise; loudly; audibly. [Pref. a- + loud.]
volumed a.: Having the form of a volume, or roil; as, volumed mist.
cursed a.: Deserving a curse; execrable; hateful; detestable; abominable.
houseless a.: Destitute of the shelter of a house; shelterless; homeless; as, a houseless wanderer.
laboring a.: That labors; performing labor; esp., performing coarse, heavy work, not requiring skill also, set apart for labor; as, laboring days.
palsied a.: Affected with palsy; paralyzed.
amen interj.: An expression used at the end of prayers, and meaning, So be it. At the end of a creed, it is a solemn asseveration of belief. [L. amen, Gr. am certainly, truly.]
henchman n.: An attendant; a servant; a follower. Now chiefly used as a political cant term. [OE. hencheman, henxman; prob. fr. OE. & AS. hengest horse + E. man, and meaning, a groom. AS. hengest is akin to D. & G. hengst stallion, OHG. hengist horse, ge]
muster n.: Something shown for imitation; a pattern. [OE. moustre, OF. mostre, moustre, F. montre, LL. monstra. See Muster, v. t.]
afloat adv.: Borne on the water; floating; on board ship. [Pref. a- + float.]
mainland n.: The continent; the principal land; -- opposed to island, or peninsula.
steepy a.: Steep; precipitous.
morass n.: A tract of soft, wet ground; a marsh; a fen. Morass ore. (Min.) See Bog ore, under Bog. [OE. marras, mareis (perh. through D. moeras), fr. F. marais, prob. from L. mare sea, in LL., any body of water; but perh. influenced by some German word. See Me]
crag n.: The neck or throat [A form of craw: cf. D. kraag neck, collar, G. kragen. See Craw.]
scaur n.: A precipitous bank or rock; a scar.
career n.: A race course: the ground run over. [F. carrière race course, high road, street, fr. L. carrus wagon. See Car.]
greenwood n.: A forest as it appears is spring and summer.
dirk n.: A kind of dagger or poniard; -- formerly much used by the Scottish Highlander. Dirk knife, a clasp knife having a large, dirklike blade. [Ir. duirc.]
mower n.: One who, or that which, mows; a mowing machine; as, a lawn mower.
blithe a.: Gay; merry; sprightly; joyous; glad; cheerful; as, a blithe spirit. [AS. bli blithe, kind; akin to Goth. blei kind, Icel. bli mild, gentle, Dan. & Sw. blid gentle, D. blijd blithe, OHG. blidi kind, blithe.]
falconer n.: A person who breeds or trains hawks for taking birds or game; one who follows the sport of fowling with hawks. Johnson. [OE. fauconer, OF. falconier, fauconier, F. fauconnier. See Falcon.]
rushed a.: Abounding or covered with rushes.
bosky a.: Woody or bushy; covered with boscage or thickets. [Cf. Bushy.]
stilly a.: Still; quiet; calm.
carol v. t.: To praise or celebrate in song.
gayly adv.: With mirth and frolic; merrily; blithely; gleefully.
copse n.: A wood of small growth; a thicket of brushwood. See Coppice. [Contr. from coppice.]
woful a.: Full of woe; sorrowful; distressed with grief or calamity; afflicted; wretched; unhappy; sad.
valiant a.: Vigorous in body; strong; powerful; as, a valiant fencer. [OE. valiant, F. vaillant, OF. vaillant, valant, originally p. pr. of OF. & F. valoir to be worth, L. valere to be strong. See Wield, and cf. Avail, Convalesce, ]
bier n.: A handbarrow or portable frame on which a corpse is placed or borne to the grave. [OE. bæe, beere, AS. b, b; akin to D. baar, OHG. bara, G. bahre, Icel barar, Dbaare, L. feretrum, Gr. , from the same bear to produce. See 1st Bear, and cf. Barr]
stripling n.: A youth in the state of adolescence, or just passing from boyhood to manhood; a lad. [Dim. of strip; as if a small strip from the main stock or steam.]
borrow v. t.: To receive from another as a loan, with the implied or expressed intention of returning the identical article or its equivalent in kind; -- the opposite of lend. [OE. borwen, AS. borgian, fr. borg, borh, pledge; akin to D. borg, G. borg; prob. fr. root of AS. beorgan to protect. Borough.]
hoary a.: White or whitish."The hoary willows."
weeper n.: One who weeps; esp., one who sheds tears.
waft v. t.: To give notice to by waving something; to wave the hand to; to beckon. [Prob. originally imp. & p. p. of wave, v. t. See Wave to waver.]
blighting a.: Causing blight.
correi n.: A hollow in the side of a hill, where game usually lies. [Scot., perh. fr. Celt. cor a corner.]
cumber n.: Trouble; embarrassment; distress. [Cf. encombre hindrance, impediment. See Cuber,v.]
corpse n.: A human body in general, whether living or dead; -- sometimes contemptuosly. [OF. cors (sometimes written corps), F. corps, L. corpus; akin to AS. hrif womb. See Midriff, and cf. Corse, Corselet, Corps, Cuerpo.]
speechless a.: Destitute or deprived of the faculty of speech.
unwonted a.: Not wonted; unaccustomed; unused; not made familiar by practice; as, a child unwonted to strangers.
hest n.: Command; precept; injunction. See Behest. [AS. hs, fr. h to call, bid. See Hight, and cf. Behest.]
clang v. t.: To strike together so as to produce a ringing metallic sound. [L. clangere; akin to Gr. clank.]
targe n.: A shield or target. [F. Cf. Target.]
flitting n.: A flying with lightness and celerity; a fluttering.
deft a.: Apt; fit; dexterous; clever; handy; spruce; neat. [OE. daft, deft, becoming, mild, gentle, stupid (cf. OE. daffe, deffe, fool, coward), AS. dæft (in derivatives only) mild, gentle, fitting, seasonable; akin to d]
betwixt prep.: In the space which separates; between. [OE. betwix, bitwix, rarely bitwixt, AS. betweox, betweohs, betweoh, betwih; pref. be- by + a form fr. AS. twa two. See Between.]
graced a.: Endowed with grace; beautiful; full of graces; honorable.
swoln: Contraction of Swollen, p. p.
clerk n.: A clergyman or ecclesiastic. [Either OF. clerc, fr. L. clericus a priest, or AS. clerc, cleric, clerk, priest, fr. L. clericus, fr. Gr. Clergy.]
dizzily adv.: In a dizzy manner or state.
amid prep.: In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
strife n.: The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
pathway n.: A footpath; a beaten track; any path or course. Also used figuratively.
blithesome a.: Cheery; gay; merry.
troth n.: Belief; faith; fidelity. [A variant of truth. See Truth.]
bonneted a.: Wearing a bonnet.
dame n.: A mistress of a family, who is a lady; a womam in authority; especially, a lady. [F. dame, LL. domna, fr. L. domina mistress, lady, fem. of dominus master, ruler, lord; akin to domare to tame, subdue. See Tame, and cf. Dam mother, Dan, Danger]
plaided a.: Of the material of which plaids are made; tartan.
jest n.: A deed; an action; a gest. [OE. jeste, geste, deed, action, story, tale, OF. geste, LL. gesta, orig., exploits, neut. pl. from L. gestus, p. p. of gerere to bear, carry, accomplish, perfor]
snooded a.: Wearing or having a snood.
unwitting a.: Not knowing; unconscious; ignorant.
shrilly a.: Somewhat shrill.
bonny a.: Handsome; beautiful; pretty; attractively lively and graceful. [OE. boni, prob. fr. F. bon, fem. bonne, good, fr. L. bonus good. See Bounty, and cf. Bonus, Boon.]
bashful a.: Abashed; daunted; dismayed. [See Bash.]
snowy a.: White like snow.
bridegroom n.: A man newly married, or just about to be married. [OE. bridegome, brudgume, AS. br (akin to OS. br, D. bruidegom, bruigom, OHG. pr, MHG. briutegome, G. bräutigam); AS. br bride + guma man, akin to Goth. guma, Ic]
churchyard n.: The ground adjoining a church, in which the dead are buried; a cemetery.
dripping n.: A falling in drops, or the sound so made.
brae n.: A hillside; a slope; a bank; a hill. Burns. [See Bray a hill.]
bracken n.: A brake or fern. [OE. braken, AS. bracce. See 2d Brake, n.]
lullaby n.: A song to quiet babes or lull them to sleep; that which quiets. [From Lull, v. t.]
vesper n.: The evening star; Hesper; Venus, when seen after sunset; hence, the evening. [L., the evening, the evening star, the west; akin to Gr. west. Cf. Hesperian, Vespers.]
waken v. i.: To wake; to cease to sleep; to be awakened. [OE. waknen, AS. wæcnan; akin to Goth. gawaknan. See Wake, v. i.]
hapless a.: Without hap or luck; luckless; unfortunate; unlucky; unhappy; as, hapless youth; hapless maid.
blithely adv.: In a blithe manner.
outcast a.: Cast out; degraded. [Cf. Sw. utkasta to cast out.]
suppliant a.: Asking earnestly and submissively; entreating; beseeching; supplicating. [F., p.pr. of supplier to entreat, L. supplicare. See Supplicate, and cf. Supplicant.]
hover n.: A cover; a shelter; a protection. Carew. C. Kingsley. [Etymol. doubtful.]
hast: , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
stainless a.: Free from stain; immaculate.
wonted a.: Accustomed; customary; usual.
unmoved a.: Not moved; fixed; firm; unshaken; calm; apathetic.
stride v. t.: To walk with long steps, especially in a measured or pompous manner. [AS. stridan to stride, to strive; akin to LG. striden, OFries. strida to strive, D. strijden to strive, to contend, G. streiten, OHG. stritan; of uncertain orig]
sullen a.: Lonely; solitary; desolate. Wyclif (Job iii. 14). [OE. solein, solain, lonely, sullen; through Old French fr. (assumed) LL. solanus solitary, fr. L. solus alone. See Sole, a.]
vale n.: A tract of low ground, or of land between hills; a valley. [OE. val, F. val, L. vallis; perhaps akin to Gr. Avalanche, Vail to lower, Valley.]
scarce a.: Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
tartan n.: Woolen cloth, checkered or crossbarred with narrow bands of various colors, much worn in the Highlands of Scotland; hence, any pattern of tartan; also, other material of a similar pattern. [F. tiretane linsey-woolsey, akin to Sp. tiritaña a sort of thin silk; cf. Sp. tiritar to shiver or shake with cold.]
twinkling n.: The act of one who, or of that which, twinkles; a quick movement of the eye; a wink; a twinkle. Holland.

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

Canto Third: The Gathering is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Lady of the Lake, Project Gutenberg ebook #3011; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Walter Scott, Canto Third: The Gathering, in The Lady of the Lake (1810), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #3011, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/scott-lady-of-the-lake/canto-third-the-gathering.html, id L06643.

Form and metre

Canto Third: The Gathering is 633 lines in 32 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 74% of the lines: octosyllabic couplets. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 41 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 23% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.

See other poems in octosyllabic couplets, other poems in iambic tetrameter.

Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.

Rhyme words, stanza by stanza

The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.

1 ABABBC-CC yore^A · knee^B · store^A · sea^B · be^B · force^C · eternity · hoarse^C · course^C
2 ABABBCBCC well^A · blew^B · dell^A · knew^B · drew^B · wound^C · flew^B · sound^C · round^C
3 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH---II hue^A · blue^A · breeze^B · trees^B · coy^C · joy^C · breast^D · rest^D · lie^E · eye^E · light^F · bright^F · lawn^G · fawn^G · side^H · pride^H · revelry · thrush · bush · dove^I · love^I
4 AABBCCDDEE--FF--GGHH rest^A · breast^A · hand^B · strand^B · laid^C · blade^C · care^D · prepare^D · fraught^E · taught^E · abroad · road · aghast^F · cast^F · threw · benvenue · wind^G · reclined^G · lake^H · brake^H
5 AABBCCDDEFGGHHIIJJFEKKDDLLMMNN piled^A · wild^A · oak^B · stroke^B · stood^C · hood^C · hair^D · despair^D · o'er^E · bore^F · face^G · race^G · solitude^H · rude^H · priest^I · released^I · brook^J · look^J · lore^F · o'er^E · worse^K · curse^K · prayer^D · care^D · bound^L · hound^L · strath^M · path^M · between^N · mien^N
6 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH--IIJJKKLLMMNNOO told^A · fold^A · glen^B · men^B · slain^C · rain^C · heart^D · art^D · hand^E · band^E · bone^F · unknown^F · guest^G · nest^G · slime^H · time^H · skull · full · bloom^I · plume^I · maid^J · shade^J · side^K · untied^K · hair^L · wear^L · sport^M · short^M · night^N · rite^N · breast^O · unconfessed^O
7 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKCCLL compeers^A · years^A · boy^B · joy^B · tongue^C · flung^C · pale^D · wail^D · received^E · believed^E · fire^F · sire^F · fate^G · gate^G · age^H · page^H · find^I · mind^I · tells^J · spells^J · allied^K · pride^K · o'erstrung^C · wrung^C · den^L · men^L
8 AABBCCDDEE--FFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNN wild^A · child^A · toil^B · boil^B · eyes^C · rise^C · limb^D · grim^D · dread^E · dead^E · heath · death · hurled^F · world^F · mind^G · kind^G · claim^H · came^H · dream^I · scream^I · blast^J · fast^J · side^K · ride^K · pine^L · line^L · show^M · woe^M · ban^N · clan^N
9 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJ rock^A · flock^A · laid^B · blade^B · eyed^C · tide^C · limb^D · dim^D · prayer^E · care^E · due^F · yew^F · wave^G · grave^G · deep^H · sleep^H · high^I · eye^I · woke^J · spoke^J
10 AAAABCCCCBDDDDBEEEEBAA-- view^A · yew^A · grew^A · dew^A · low^B · trust^C · dust^C · thrust^C · just^C · woe^B · took^D · look^D · shook^D · strook^D · low^B · course^E · source^E · force^E · hoarse^E · woe^B · knew^A · drew^A · afar · war
11 AABBCCCDDCCCC-EEEE-FFFF-GGGGHIIIH fell^A · spell^A · came^B · flame^B · air^C · there^C · prayer^C · crowd^D · aloud^D · rear^C · spear^C · sear^C · fear^C · know · flame^E · proclaim^E · name^E · shame^E · woe · shrill^F · hill^F · ill^F · trill^F · slow · dread^G · red^G · shed^G · head^G · woe^H · gave^I · cave^I · wave^I · bo^H
12 AABBCCDDEE--FFGGHH--IIJJKK anew^A · drew^A · hand^B · brand^B · dread^C · head^C · aid^D · disobeyed^D · wood^E · blood^E · reared · heard · man^F · clan^F · heed^G · speed^G · eyes^H · prize^H · earth · hearth · spark^I · dark^I · denied^J · beside^J · again^K · amen^K
13 AABBCCDD--EEFFGGHH look^A · took^A · gave^B · brave^B · mead^C · speed^C · pursue^D · flew^D · prow · row · boat^E · afloat^E · still^F · hill^F · side^G · wide^G · land^H · brand^H
14 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHGGIIJJ hide^A · tied^A · haste^B · braced^B · breast^C · crest^C · pass^D · morass^D · bound^E · hound^E · deep^F · leap^F · brow^G · now^G · fear^H · career^H · now^G · bough^G · pace^I · race^I · deed^J · speed^J
15 AABBCCDDEE----FFGGFFHHIIJJ flies^A · rise^A · brown^B · down^B · pace^C · place^C · wind^D · behind^D · strand^E · brand^E · blithe · scythe · strayed · staved · away^F · hay^F · alarms^G · arms^G · affray^F · achray^F · e'er^H · fear^H · sleep^I · deep^I · cloud^J · loud^J
16 AABB--CCDD--EECCFFGGHH past^A · last^A · seen^B · green^B · done · on · prey^C · way^C · gale^D · wail^D · o'er · more · chase^E · place^E · ray^C · day^C · bier^F · tear^F · by^G · why^G · round^H · resound^H
17 ABABC-C- mountain^A · forest^B · fountain^A · sorest^B · reappearing^C · borrow · cheering^C · morrow
18 ABABC-C- reaper^A · hoary^B · weeper^A · glory^B · rushing^C · searest · flushing^C · nearest
19 -A-AB-B- correi · cumber^A · foray · slumber^A · mountain^B · river · fountain^B · forever
20 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH beside^A · eyed^A · halloo^B · dew^B · ears^C · hears^C · tread^D · dead^D · fear^E · career^E · all^F · hall^F · stood^G · blood^G · mead^H · speed^H
21 AABB--CC--DDEEFFGGHH--I---IIJJKKLLMM--NNOO line^A · sign^A · side^B · tied^B · eye · agony · flew^C · adieu^C · gone · son · bier^D · tear^D · breast^E · crest^E · freed^F · speed^F · moss^G · cross^G · tear^H · hear^H · eye · sympathy · run^I · on · all · now · done^I · son^I · true^J · drew^J · head^K · dead^K · call^L · hall^L · band^M · hand^M · energy · eye · dear^N · bier^N · force^O · course^O
22 --AABBCCDD----EEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQRRSSTTUU fire · ire · flew^A · knew^A · eye^B · dry^B · roll^C · knoll^C · green^D · seen^D · bridge · edge · dizzily · eye · roar^E · bore^E · guide^F · tide^F · high^G · by^G · there^H · heir^H · life^I · strife^I · gained^J · strained^J · tide^K · bride^K · gave^L · armandave^L · arch^M · march^M · came^N · dame^N · jeer^O · hear^O · why^P · cry^P · vied^Q · bride^Q · disclose^R · rose^R · hand^S · band^S · side^T · pride^T · ear^U · cheer^U
23 AABBCC--DDEEEFFGGHHII gate^A · fate^A · lies^B · eyes^B · flood^C · stood^C · sword · word · mead^D · speed^D · hand^E · band^E · brand^E · rose^F · close^F · divide^G · bride^G · must^H · trust^H · delay^I · away^I
24 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLL aside^A · bride^A · tear^B · cheer^B · look^C · brook^C · heath^D · teith^D · stirred^E · deferred^E · train^F · vain^F · came^G · fame^G · mountaineers^H · spears^H · burning^I · returning^I · crest^J · breast^J · brae^K · away^K · strong^L · song^L
25 AAABC-CB bed^A · head^A · tread^A · mary^B · laid^C · plaid · maid^C · mary^B
26 AAABCCAB now^A · brow^A · vow^A · mary^B · know^C · foe^C · bow^A · mary^B
27 AAABCCCB fraught^A · fought^A · thought^A · mary^B · foes^C · close^C · repose^C · mary^B
28 ABABBABA- mild^A · prayer^B · wild^A · despair^B · care^B · reviled^A · prayer^B · child^A · maria
29 ABABBABA- undefiled^A · share^B · piled^A · there^B · air^B · smiled^A · prayer^B · child^A · maria
30 ABABBABA- styled^A · air^B · exiled^A · fair^B · care^B · reconciled^A · prayer^B · child^A · maria
31 AABBCCDDEEFF--GGHHII hymn^A · limb^A · lord^B · sword^B · sign^C · decline^C · cast^D · last^D · e'er^E · hear^E · stride^F · side^F · boat · shot · bay^G · way^G · light^H · height^H · below^I · show^I
32 AABBCCDDAAAEEFFGGHH made^A · strayed^A · round^B · ground^B · eye^C · lie^C · screen^D · green^D · blade^A · made^A · shade^A · gloom^E · plume^E · wide^F · side^F · fell^G · yell^G · plain^H · reign^H

Scansion, line by line

Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.

Line	Syl.	Stress
Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore,	10	···/˘·····
Who danced our infancy upon their knee,	9	··//˘····
And told our marvelling boyhood legends store	11	··/˘/˘/·/˘·
Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea,	10	···/˘·····
How are they blotted from the things that be!	10	···/˘·····
How few, all weak and withered of their force,	10	·····/˘···
Wait on the verge of dark eternity,	9	······˘/˘
Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse,	10	·/˘···˘/˘·
To sweep them from out sight! Time rolls his ceaseless course.	12	·········/˘·
Yet live there still who can remember well,	10	······˘/˘·
How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Both field and forest, dingle, cliff; and dell,	10	···/˘/˘···
And solitary heath, the signal knew;	10	·/˘·˘··/˘·
And fast the faithful clan around him drew.	10	···/˘·····
What time the warning note was keenly wound,	10	···/˘··/˘·
What time aloft their kindred banner flew,	10	··˘/·/˘/˘·
While clamorous war-pipes yelled the gathering sound,	11	·/˘˘····/˘·
And while the Fiery Cross glanced like a meteor, round.	12	···/˘····/˘·
The Summer dawn's reflected hue	8	·/˘·˘/˘·
To purple changed Loch Katrine blue;	8	·/˘·····
Mildly and soft the western breeze	8	/˘···/˘·
Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees,	8	········
And the pleased lake, like maiden coy,	8	·····/˘·
Trembled but dimpled not for joy	8	/˘·/˘···
The mountain-shadows on her breast	8	·/˘/····
Were neither broken nor at rest;	8	·/˘/˘···
In bright uncertainty they lie,	8	··˘/˘˘··
Like future joys to Fancy's eye.	8	·/˘··/˘·
The water-lily to the light	8	·/˘/˘···
Her chalice reared of silver bright;	8	·/˘··/˘·
The doe awoke, and to the lawn,	8	··˘/····
Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn;	8	········
The gray mist left the mountain-side,	8	·····/˘·
The torrent showed its glistening pride;	8	·/˘··/˘·
Invisible in flecked sky The lark sent clown her revelry:	13	˘/˘········/˘
The blackbird and the speckled thrush	8	·/˘··/˘·
Good-morrow gave from brake and bush;	8	·/˘·····
In answer cooed the cushat dove	8	·/˘··/˘·
Her notes of peace and rest and love.	8	········
No thought of peace, no thought of rest,	8	········
Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast.	8	˘/···/˘·
With sheathed broadsword in his hand,	8	··˘/····
Abrupt he paced the islet strand,	8	˘/···/˘·
And eyed the rising sun, and laid	8	···/˘···
His hand on his impatient blade.	8	····˘/˘·
Beneath a rock, his vassals' care	8	·····/˘·
Was prompt the ritual to prepare,	8	···/˘·˘/
With deep and deathful meaning fraught;	8	···/˘/˘·
For such Antiquity had taught	8	··˘/˘˘··
Was preface meet, ere yet abroad	8	·/˘···˘/
The Cross of Fire should take its road.	8	···/····
The shrinking band stood oft aghast	8	·/˘···˘/
At the impatient glance he cast;--	8	··˘/˘···
Such glance the mountain eagle threw,	8	···/˘/˘·
As, from the cliffs of Benvenue,	8	········
She spread her dark sails on the wind,	8	········
And, high in middle heaven reclined,	8	···/˘/˘/
With her broad shadow on the lake,	8	···/····
Silenced the warblers of the brake.	8	/˘·/˘···
A heap of withered boughs was piled,	8	···/˘···
Of juniper and rowan wild,	8	·/˘˘·/˘·
Mingled with shivers from the oak,	8	/˘·/˘···
Rent by the lightning's recent stroke.	8	···/˘/˘·
Brian the Hermit by it stood,	8	/˘·/˘···
Barefooted, in his frock and hood.	8	/·˘·····
His grizzled beard and matted hair	8	·/˘··/˘·
Obscured a visage of despair;	8	˘/·/˘·˘/
His naked arms and legs, seamed o'er,	8	·/˘·····
The scars of frantic penance bore.	8	···/˘/˘·
That monk, of savage form and face	8	···/˘···
The impending danger of his race	9	·˘/˘/˘···
Had drawn from deepest solitude	8	···/˘/˘·
Far in Benharrow's bosom rude.	8	·····/˘·
Not his the mien of Christian priest,	8	·····/˘·
But Druid's, from the grave released	8	·/˘···˘/
Whose hardened heart and eye might brook	8	·/˘·····
On human sacrifice to look;	8	·/˘/˘···
And much, 't was said, of heathen lore	9	······/˘·
Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er.	8	·····/˘·
The hallowed creed gave only worse	8	·/˘··/˘·
And deadlier emphasis of curse.	8	·/˘/˘˘··
No peasant sought that Hermit's prayer	8	·/˘··/˘·
His cave the pilgrim shunned with care,	8	···/˘···
The eager huntsman knew his bound	8	·/˘/˘···
And in mid chase called off his hound;'	8	········
Or if, in lonely glen or strath,	8	···/˘···
The desert-dweller met his path	8	·/˘/˘···
He prayed, and signed the cross between,	8	········
While terror took devotion's mien.	8	·/˘·˘/˘·
Of Brian's birth strange tales were told.	8	·/˘·····
His mother watched a midnight fold,	8	·/˘··/··
Built deep within a dreary glen,	8	·····/˘·
Where scattered lay the bones of men	8	·/˘·····
In some forgotten battle slain,	8	··˘/˘/˘·
And bleached by drifting wind and rain.	8	···/˘···
It might have tamed a warrior's heart	8	·····/˘·
To view such mockery of his art!	8	···/˘···
The knot-grass fettered there the hand	8	···/˘···
Which once could burst an iron band;	8	·····/˘·
Beneath the broad and ample bone,	8	·····/˘·
That bucklered heart to fear unknown,	8	·/˘···˘/
A feeble and a timorous guest,	8	·/˘··/˘·
The fieldfare framed her lowly nest;	8	·/˘··/˘·
There the slow blindworm left his slime	8	···/˘···
On the fleet limbs that mocked at time;	8	········
And there, too, lay the leader's skull	8	·····/˘·
Still wreathed with chaplet, flushed and full,	8	···/˘···
For heath-bell with her purple bloom	8	·····/˘·
Supplied the bonnet and the plume.	8	˘/·/˘···
All night, in this sad glen the maid	8	········
Sat shrouded in her mantle's shade:	8	·/˘··/˘·
She said no shepherd sought her side,	8	···/˘···
No hunter's hand her snood untied.	8	·/˘···˘/
Yet ne'er again to braid her hair	8	··˘/····
The virgin snood did Alive wear;	8	·/˘··˘/·
Gone was her maiden glee and sport,	8	···/˘···
Her maiden girdle all too short,	8	·/˘/˘···
Nor sought she, from that fatal night,	8	·····/˘·
Or holy church or blessed rite	8	·/˘···˘·
But locked her secret in her breast,	8	···/˘···
And died in travail, unconfessed.	8	···˘/···
Alone, among his young compeers,	8	˘/······
Was Brian from his infant years;	8	·/˘··/˘·
A moody and heart-broken boy,	8	·/˘··/˘·
Estranged from sympathy and joy	8	˘/·/˘˘··
Bearing each taunt which careless tongue	8	/˘···/˘·
On his mysterious lineage flung.	8	··˘/˘/˘·
Whole nights he spent by moonlight pale	8	·····/··
To wood and stream his teal, to wail,	8	········
Till, frantic, he as truth received	8	·/˘···˘/
What of his birth the crowd believed,	8	······˘/
And sought, in mist and meteor fire,	8	·····/˘/
To meet and know his Phantom Sire!	9	·····/˘/˘
In vain, to soothe his wayward fate,	8	·····/˘·
The cloister oped her pitying gate;	8	·/˘··/˘·
In vain the learning of the age	8	···/˘···
Unclasped the sable-lettered page;	8	···/˘/˘·
Even in its treasures he could find	8	/··/˘···
Food for the fever of his mind.	8	···/˘···
Eager he read whatever tells	8	/˘···/˘·
Of magic, cabala, and spells,	8	·/˘/˘˘··
And every dark pursuit allied	8	·/˘·˘/˘/
To curious and presumptuous pride;	8	·/˘·˘/˘·
Till with fired brain and nerves o'erstrung,	8	··/·····
And heart with mystic horrors wrung,	8	···/˘/˘·
Desperate he sought Benharrow's den,	8	/˘······
And hid him from the haunts of men.	8	········
The desert gave him visions wild,	8	·/˘··/˘·
Such as might suit the spectre's child.	8	·····/˘·
Where with black cliffs the torrents toil,	8	·····/˘·
He watched the wheeling eddies boil,	8	···/˘/˘·
Jill from their foam his dazzled eyes	8	·····/˘·
Beheld the River Demon rise:	8	˘/·/˘/˘·
The mountain mist took form and limb	8	·/˘·····
Of noontide hag or goblin grim;	8	·/˘··/˘·
The midnight wind came wild and dread,	8	·/······
Swelled with the voices of the dead;	8	···/˘···
Far on the future battle-heath	8	···/˘/˘·
His eye beheld the ranks of death:	8	··˘/····
Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurled,	8	·····//·
Shaped forth a disembodied world.	8	···˘˘/˘·
One lingering sympathy of mind	8	·/˘/˘˘··
Still bound him to the mortal kind;	8	·····/˘·
The only parent he could claim	8	·/˘/˘···
Of ancient Alpine's lineage came.	8	·/˘/·/˘·
Late had he heard, in prophet's dream,	8	·····/˘·
The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream;	8	·/˘··/˘·
Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast	8	·····/··
Of charging steeds, careering fast	8	·/˘·˘/˘·
Along Benharrow's shingly side,	8	˘/···/˘·
Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride;	8	·/˘/˘···
The thunderbolt had split the pine,--	8	·/˘·····
All augured ill to Alpine's line.	8	·/˘··/··
He girt his loins, and came to show	8	········
The signals of impending woe,	8	·/˘·˘/˘·
And now stood prompt to bless or ban,	8	········
As bade the Chieftain of his clan.	8	···/˘···
'T was all prepared;--and from the rock	9	···˘/····
A goat, the patriarch of the flock,	9	···/˘····
Before the kindling pile was laid,	8	···/˘···
And pierced by Roderick's ready blade.	8	···/˘/˘·
Patient the sickening victim eyed	8	/˘·/˘/˘·
The life-blood ebb in crimson tide	8	·····/˘·
Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb,	8	·····/˘·
Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim.	8	·/˘··/··
The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer,	8	·/˘··/˘·
A slender crosslet framed with care,	8	·/˘/˘···
A cubit's length in measure due;	8	·/˘··/˘·
The shaft and limbs were rods of yew,	8	········
Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave	8	·/˘·····
Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave,	8	·/···/··
And, answering Lomond's breezes deep,	8	·/˘··/˘·
Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep.	8	·/·/˘/˘·
The Cross thus formed he held on high,	8	········
With wasted hand and haggard eye,	8	·/˘··/˘·
And strange and mingled feelings woke,	8	···/˘/˘·
While his anathema he spoke:--	8	··˘/˘˘··
'Woe to the clansman who shall view	8	···/˘···
This symbol of sepulchral yew,	8	·/˘·˘/˘·
Forgetful that its branches grew	8	˘/˘··/˘·
Where weep the heavens their holiest dew	9	···/˘·/˘·
On Alpine's dwelling low!	6	·/·/˘·
Deserter of his Chieftain's trust,	8	/˘˘··/˘·
He ne'er shall mingle with their dust,	8	···/˘···
But, from his sires and kindred thrust,	8	·····/˘·
Each clansman's execration just	8	········
Shall doom him wrath and woe.'	6	······
He paused;--the word the vassals took,	8	·····/˘·
With forward step and fiery look,	8	·/˘··/˘·
On high their naked brands they shook,	8	···/˘···
Their clattering targets wildly strook;	8	·/˘/˘/˘·
And first in murmur low,	6	···/˘·
Then like the billow in his course,	8	···/˘···
That far to seaward finds his source,	8	···/˘···
And flings to shore his mustered force,	8	·····/˘·
Burst with loud roar their answer hoarse,	8	·····/˘·
'Woe to the traitor, woe!'	6	···/˘·
Ben-an's gray scalp the accents knew,	8	·····/˘·
The joyous wolf from covert drew,	8	·/˘··/˘·
The exulting eagle screamed afar,--	9	·˘/˘/˘·˘/
They knew the voice of Alpine's war.	8	·····/··
The shout was hushed on lake and fell,	8	········
The Monk resumed his muttered spell:	8	··˘/·/˘·
Dismal and low its accents came,	8	/˘···/˘·
The while he scathed the Cross with flame;	8	········
And the few words that reached the air,	8	········
Although the holiest name was there,	8	···/˘···
Had more of blasphemy than prayer.	8	···/˘˘··
But when he shook above the crowd	8	········
Its kindled points, he spoke aloud:--	8	·/˘···˘/
'Woe to the wretch who fails to rear	8	········
At this dread sign the ready spear!	8	·····/˘·
For, as the flames this symbol sear,	8	·····/˘·
His home, the refuge of his fear,	8	···/˘···
A kindred fate shall know;	7	·/˘˘···
Far o'er its roof the volumed flame	8	·····/˘·
Clan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim,	8	·/·/˘·˘/
While maids and matrons on his name	8	···/˘···
Shall call down wretchedness and shame,	8	···/˘˘··
And infamy and woe.'	6	·/˘˘··
Then rose the cry of females, shrill	8	·····/··
As goshawk's whistle on the hill,	8	·/·/˘···
Denouncing misery and ill,	8	˘/˘/˘˘··
Mingled with childhood's babbling trill	8	/˘·/·/˘·
Of curses stammered slow;	7	·/˘/˘˘·
Answering with imprecation dread,	8	/˘······
'Sunk be his home in embers red!	8	·····/˘·
And cursed be the meanest shed	8	··˘··/˘·
That o'er shall hide the houseless head	8	·····/˘·
We doom to want and woe!'	6	······
A sharp and shrieking echo gave,	8	···/˘/˘·
Coir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave!	8	·····/˘·
And the gray pass where birches wave	8	·····/˘·
On Beala-nam-bo.	5	·····
Then deeper paused the priest anew,	8	·/˘···˘/
And hard his laboring breath he drew,	8	···/˘···
While, with set teeth and clenched hand,	8	······˘·
And eyes that glowed like fiery brand,	8	·····/˘·
He meditated curse more dread,	8	·/˘·˘···
And deadlier, on the clansman's head	8	·/˘·····
Who, summoned to his chieftain's aid,	8	·/˘··/˘·
The signal saw and disobeyed.	8	·/˘···˘/
The crosslet's points of sparkling wood	8	·····/˘·
He quenched among the bubbling blood.	8	·····/˘·
And, as again the sign he reared,	8	··˘/····
Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard:	8	/˘······
'When flits this Cross from man to man,	8	········
Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan,	8	·/·/˘···
Burst be the ear that fails to heed!	8	········
Palsied the foot that shuns to speed!	8	/˘······
May ravens tear the careless eyes,	8	·/˘··/˘·
Wolves make the coward heart their prize!	8	···/˘···
As sinks that blood-stream in the earth,	8	········
So may his heart's-blood drench his hearth!	8	········
As dies in hissing gore the spark,	8	···/˘···
Quench thou his light, Destruction dark!	8	····˘/˘·
And be the grace to him denied,	8	······˘/
Bought by this sign to all beside!	8	······˘/
He ceased; no echo gave again	8	···/˘·˘/
The murmur of the deep Amen.	8	·/˘···˘/
Then Roderick with impatient look	8	·/˘·˘/˘·
From Brian's hand the symbol took:	8	·/˘··/˘·
'Speed, Malise, speed' he said, and gave	8	········
The crosslet to his henchman brave.	8	·/˘··/˘·
'The muster-place be Lanrick mead--	8	·/˘·····
Instant the time---speed, Malise, speed!'	8	/˘······
Like heath-bird, when the hawks pursue,	8	······˘/
A barge across Loch Katrine flew:	8	··˘/····
High stood the henchman on the prow;	8	···/˘···
So rapidly the barge-mall row,	8	·/˘˘····
The bubbles, where they launched the boat,	8	·/˘·····
Were all unbroken and afloat,	8	··˘/˘·˘/
Dancing in foam and ripple still,	8	/˘···/˘·
When it had neared the mainland hill;	8	·····/··
And from the silver beach's side	8	···/˘/˘·
Still was the prow three fathom wide,	8	·····/˘·
When lightly bounded to the land	8	·/˘/˘···
The messenger of blood and brand.	8	·/˘˘····
Speed, Malise, speed! the dun deer's hide	8	········
On fleeter foot was never tied.	8	·····/˘·
Speed, Malise, speed! such cause of haste	8	········
Thine active sinews never braced.	8	·/˘··/˘·
Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast,	8	···/˘···
Burst down like torrent from its crest;	8	···/˘···
With short and springing footstep pass	8	···/˘/··
The trembling bog and false morass;	8	·/˘···˘/
Across the brook like roebuck bound,	8	˘/···/··
And thread the brake like questing hound;	8	·····/˘·
The crag is high, the scaur is deep,	8	········
Yet shrink not from the desperate leap:	8	·····/˘·
Parched are thy burning lips and brow,	8	···/˘···
Yet by the fountain pause not now;	8	···/˘···
Herald of battle, fate, and fear,	8	/˘·/˘···
Stretch onward in thy fleet career!	8	·/˘···˘/
The wounded hind thou track'st not now,	8	·/˘·····
Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough,	9	˘/˘···/··
Nor priest thou now thy flying pace	8	·····/˘·
With rivals in the mountain race;	8	·/˘··/˘·
But danger, death, and warrior deed	8	·/˘··/˘·
Are in thy course--speed, Malise, speed!	8	········
Fast as the fatal symbol flies,	8	···/˘/˘·
In arms the huts and hamlets rise;	8	·····/˘·
From winding glen, from upland brown,	8	·/˘··/˘·
They poured each hardy tenant down.	8	···/˘/˘·
Nor slacked the messenger his pace;	8	···/˘˘··
He showed the sign, he named the place,	8	········
And, pressing forward like the wind,	8	·/˘/˘···
Left clamor and surprise behind.	8	·/˘·˘/··
The fisherman forsook the strand,	8	·/˘·˘/··
The swarthy smith took dirk and brand;	8	·/˘·····
With changed cheer, the mower blithe	8	··˘··/˘·
Left in the half-cut swath his scythe;	8	········
The herds without a keeper strayed,	8	·····/˘·
The plough was in mid-furrow staved,	8	·····/˘·
The falconer tossed his hawk away,	8	·/˘···˘/
The hunter left the stag at hay;	8	·/˘·····
Prompt at the signal of alarms,	8	···/˘·˘/
Each son of Alpine rushed to arms;	8	···/····
So swept the tumult and affray	8	···/˘·˘/
Along the margin of Achray.	8	˘/·/˘···
Alas, thou lovely lake! that e'er	8	˘/·/˘···
Thy banks should echo sounds of fear!	8	···/˘···
The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep	8	···/˘/˘·
So stilly on thy bosom deep,	8	·/˘··/˘·
The lark's blithe carol from the cloud	8	···/˘···
Seems for the scene too gayly loud.	8	·····/˘·
Speed, Malise, speed! The lake is past,	8	········
Duncraggan's huts appear at last,	8	····˘/··
And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen	8	········
Half hidden in the copse so green;	8	·/˘·····
There mayst thou rest, thy labor done,	8	·····/˘·
Their lord shall speed the signal on.--	8	·····/˘·
As stoops the hawk upon his prey,	8	········
The henchman shot him down the way.	8	·/˘·····
What woful accents load the gale?	8	···/˘···
The funeral yell, the female wail!	8	·/˘··/··
A gallant hunter's sport is o'er,	8	·/˘/˘···
A valiant warrior fights no more.	8	·/˘/˘···
Who, in the battle or the chase,	8	···/˘···
At Roderick's side shall fill his place!--	8	·/˘·····
Within the hall, where torch's ray	8	·····/˘·
Supplies the excluded beams of day,	9	˘/·˘/˘···
Lies Duncan on his lowly bier,	8	·/˘··/˘·
And o'er him streams his widow's tear.	8	·····/˘·
His stripling son stands mournful by,	8	·/˘··/˘·
His youngest weeps, but knows not why;	8	·/˘·····
The village maids and matrons round	8	·/˘··/˘·
The dismal coronach resound.	8	·/˘/˘˘·/
He is gone on the mountain,	7	·····/˘
He is lost to the forest,	7	·····/˘
Like a summer-dried fountain,	7	··/˘·/˘
When our need was the sorest.	8	·/˘·····
The font, reappearing,	6	···˘/˘
From the rain-drops shall borrow,	7	·····/·
But to us comes no cheering,	7	·····/˘
To Duncan no morrow!	6	·/˘·/˘
The hand of the reaper	6	····/˘
Takes the ears that are hoary,	7	·····/˘
But the voice of the weeper	7	·····/˘
Wails manhood in glory.	6	·/··/˘
The autumn winds rushing	6	·/˘·/˘
Waft the leaves that are searest,	7	·····/˘
But our flower was in flushing,	9	·/˘/˘··/˘
When blighting was nearest.	6	·/˘·/˘
Fleet foot on the correi,	6	····/˘
Sage counsel in cumber,	6	·/˘·/˘
Red hand in the foray,	6	····/˘
How sound is thy slumber!	6	····/˘
Like the dew on the mountain,	7	·····/˘
Like the foam on the river,	7	·····/˘
Like the bubble on the fountain,	8	··/˘··/˘
Thou art gone, and forever!	7	····˘/˘
See Stumah, who, the bier beside	8	······˘/
His master's corpse with wonder eyed,	8	·/˘··/˘·
Poor Stumah! whom his least halloo	8	······˘/
Could send like lightning o'er the dew,	8	···/˘···
Bristles his crest, and points his ears,	8	/˘······
As if some stranger step he hears.	8	···/˘···
'T is not a mourner's muffled tread,	9	····/˘/˘·
Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead,	8	···/˘···

The first 400 of 633 lines; the reader marks them all.

Notes from the edition 113

Notes from The Lady of the Lake (Project Gutenberg #3011).

Stanza 1, line 1 2: "But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad;" Dryden, Hind and Panther, iii. 437: "Till frowning skies began to change their cheer," etc.
Stanza 1, line 1 The Henchman. 2. The Bard. See preceding notes. 3. Bladier, or spokesman. 4. Gillie-more, or sword-bearer, alluded to in the text. 5. Gillie-casflue, who carried the chief, if on foot, over the fords. 6. Gillie-comstraine, who leads the chief's horse. 7. Gillie-Trushanarinsh, the baggage-man. 8. The piper. 9. The piper's gillie, or attendant, who carries the bagpipe (Letters from Scotland, vol. ii. p. 158). Although this appeared, naturally enough, very ridiculous to an English officer, who considered the master of such a retinue as no more than an English gentleman of £500 a year, yet in the circumstances of the chief, whose strength and importance consisted in the number and attachment of his followers, it was of the last consequence, in point of policy, to have in his gift subordinate offices, which called immediately round his person those who were most devoted to him, and, being of value in their estimation, were also the means of rewarding them."
Stanza 1, line 3 Store. See on i. 548 above.
Stanza 1, line 5 That be. in old English, besides the present tense am, etc., there was also this form be, from the Anglo-Saxon beon. The 2d person singular was beest. The 1st and 3d person plural be is often found in Shakespeare and the Bible.
Stanza 2, line 1 Yet live there still, etc. See on ii. 692 above.
Stanza 2, line 6 What time. Cf. ii. 307 above.
Stanza 2, line 8 The gathering sound. The sound, or signal, for the gathering. The phrase illustrates the difference between the participle and the verbal noun (or whatever it may be called) in -ing. Cf. "a laboring man" and "a laboring day" (Julius Caesar, i. 1. 4); and see our ed. of J. C. p. 126.
Stanza 2, line 9 The Fiery Cross. Scott says here: "When a chieftain designed to summon his clan, upon any sudden or important emergency, he slew a goat, and making a cross of any light wood, seared its extremities in the fire, and extinguished them in the blood of the animal. This was called the Fiery Cross, also Crean Tarigh, or the Cross of Shame, because disobedience to what the symbol implied, inferred infamy. It was delivered to a swift and trusty messenger, who ran full speed with it to the next hamlet, where he presented it to the principal person, with a single word, implying the place of rendezvous. He who received the symbol was bound to send it forward, with equal despatch, to the next village; and thus it passed with incredible celerity through all the district which owed allegiance to the chief, and also among his allies and neighbours, if the danger was common to them. At sight of the Fiery Cross, every man, from sixteen years old to sixty, capable of bearing arms, was obliged instantly to repair, in his best arms and accoutrements, to the place of rendezvous. He who failed to appear suffered the extremities of fire and sword, which were emblematically denounced to the disobedient by the bloody and burnt marks upon this warlike signal. During the civil war of 1745-6, the Fiery Cross often made its circuit; and upon one occasion it passed through the whole district of Breadalbane, a tract of thirty-two miles, in three hours. The late Alexander Stewart, Esq., of Invernahyle, described to me his having sent round the Fiery Cross through the district of Appine, during the same commotion. The coast was threatened by a descent from two English trigates, and the flower of the young men were with the army of Prince Charles Edward, then in England; yet the summons was so effectual that even old age and childhood obeyed it; and a force was collected in a few hours, so numerous and so enthusiastic, that all attempt at the intended diversion upon the country of the absent warriors was in prudence abandoned, as desperate."
Stanza 3, line 1 The Summer dawn's reflected hue, etc. Mr. Ruskin says (Modern Painters, iii. 278): "And thus Nature becomes dear to Scott in a threefold way: dear to him, first, as containing those remains or memories of the past, which he cannot find in cities, and giving hope of Praetorian mound or knight's grave in every green slope and shade of its desolate places; dear, secondly, in its moorland liberty, which has for him just as high a charm as the fenced garden had for the mediaeval;... and dear to him, finally, in that perfect beauty, denied alike in cities and in men, for which every modern heart had begun at last to thirst, and Scott's, in its freshness and power, of all men's most earnestly. "And in this love of beauty, observe that the love of colour is a leading element, his healthy mind being incapable of losing, under any modern false teaching, its joy in brilliancy of hue. ... In general, if he does not mean to say much about things, the one character which he will give is colour, using it with the most perfect mastery and faithfulness." After giving many illustrations of Scott's use of colour in his poetry, Ruskin quotes the present passage, which he says is "still more interesting, because it has no form in it at all except in one word (chalice), but wholly composes its imagery either of colour, or of that delicate half-believed life which we have seen to be so important an element in modern landscape." "Two more considerations," he adds, "are, however, suggested by the above passage. The first, that the love of natural history, excited by the continual attention now given to all wild landscape, heightens reciprocally the interest of that landscape, and becomes an important element in Scott's description, leading him to finish, down to the minutest speckling of breast, and slightest shade of attributed emotion, the portraiture of birds and animals; in strange opposition to Homer's slightly named 'sea-crows, who have care of the works of the sea,' and Dante's singing-birds, of undefined species. Compare carefully the 2d and 3d stanzas of Rokeby. "The second point I have to note is Scott's habit of drawing a slight moral from every scene,... and that this slight moral is almost always melancholy. Here he has stopped short without entirely expressing it: "The mountain-shadows.. ..................... lie Like future joys to Fancy's eye.' His completed thought would be, that these future joys, like the mountain-shadows, were never to be attained. It occurs fu …
Stanza 3, line 10 Like future joys, etc. This passage, quoted by Ruskin above, also illustrates what is comparatively rare in figurative language--taking the immaterial to exemplify the material. The latter is constantly used to symbolize or elucidate the former; but one would have to search long in our modern poetry to find a dozen instances where, as here, the relation is reversed. Cf. 639 below. We have another example in the second passage quoted by Ruskin. Cf. also Tennyson's "thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, That like a broken purpose waste in air;" and Shelly's "Our boat is asleep on Serchio's stream; Its sails are folded like thoughts in a dream."
Stanza 3, line 12 Reared. The 1st ed. has "oped."
Stanza 3, line 14 After this line the MS. has the couplet, "Invisible in fleecy cloud, The lark sent down her matins loud," which reappears in altered form below.
Stanza 3, line 15 Gray mist. The MS. has "light mist."
Stanza 3, line 19 Good-morrow gave, etc. Cf. Byron, Childe Harold: "and the bills Of summer-birds sing welcome as ye pass."
Stanza 3, line 20 Cushat dove. Ring-dove.
Stanza 4, line 6 His impatient blade. Note the "transferred epithet." It is not the blade that is impatient.
Stanza 4, line 7 Beneath a rock, etc. The MS. reads: "Hard by, his vassals' early care The mystic ritual prepare."
Stanza 4, line 10 Antiquity. The men of old; "the abstract for the concrete."
Stanza 4, line 19 With her broad shadow, etc. Cf. Longfellow, Maidenhood: "Seest thou shadows sailing by, As the dove, with startled eye, Sees the falcon's shadow fly?"
Stanza 5, line 2 Rowan. The mountain-ash.
Stanza 5, line 11 That monk, of savage form and face. Scott says here: "The state of religion in the middle ages afforded considerable facilities for those whose mode of life excluded them from regular worship, to secure, nevertheless, the ghostly assistance of confessors, perfectly willing to adapt the nature of their doctrine to the necessities and peculiar circumstances of their flock. Robin Hood, it is well known, had his celebrated domestic chaplain Friar Tuck. And that same curtal friar was probably matched in manners and appearance by the ghostly fathers of the Tynedale robbers, who are thus described in an excommunication fulminated against their patrons by Richard Fox, Bishop of Durham, tempore Henrici VIII.: 'We have further understood, that there are many chaplains in the said territories of Tynedale and Redesdale, who are public and open maintainers of concubinage, irregular, suspended, excommunicated, and interdicted persons, and withal so utterly ignorant of letters, that it has been found by those who objected this to them, that there were some who, having celebrated mass for ten years, were still unable to read the sacramental service. We have also understood there are persons among them who, although not ordained, do take upon them the offices of priesthood, and, in contempt of God, celebrate the divine and sacred rites, and administer the sacraments, not only in sacred and dedicated places, but in those which are prophane and interdicted, and most wretchedly ruinous, they themselves being attired in ragged, torn, and most filthy vestments, altogether unfit to be used in divine, or even in temporal offices. The which said chaplains do administer sacraments and sacramental rites to the aforesaid manifest and infamous thieves, robbers, depredators, receivers of stolen goods, and plunderers, and that without restitution, or intention to restore, as evinced by the act; and do also openly admit them to the rites of ecclesiastical sepulchre, without exacting security for restitution, although they are prohibited from doing so by the sacred canons, as well as by the institutes of the saints and fathers. All which infers the heavy peril of their own souls, and is a pernicious example to the other believers in Christ, as well as no slight, but an aggravated injury, to the numbers despoiled and plundered of their goods, gear, herds, and chattels.'"
Stanza 5, line 15 Benharrow. A mountain near the head of Loch Lomond.
Stanza 5, line 17 Brook. See on i. 566 above.
Stanza 5, line 21 The hallowed creed. The Christian creed, as distinguished from heathen lore. The MS. has "While the blest creed," etc.
Stanza 5, line 25 Bound. That is, of his haunts.
Stanza 5, line 27 Glen or strath. A glen is the deep and narrow valley of a small stream, a strath the broader one of a river.
Stanza 5, line 29 He prayed, etc. The MS. reads: "He prayed, with many a cross between, And terror took devotion's mien."
Stanza 6, line 1 Of Brian's birth, etc. Scott says that the legend which follows is not of his invention, and goes on to show that it is taken with slight variation from "the geographical collections made by the Laird of Macfarlane."
Stanza 6, line 12 Bucklered. Served as a buckler to, shielded.
Stanza 6, line 26 Snood. Cf. i. 363 above. Scott has the following note here: "The snood, or riband, with which as Scottish lass braided her hair, had an emblematical signification, and applied to her maiden character. It was exchanged for the curch, toy, or coif, when she passed, by marriage, into the matron state. But if the damsel was so unfortunate as to lose pretensions to the name of maiden, without gaining a right to that of matron, she was neither permitted to use the snood, nor advanced to the graver dignity of the curch. In old Scottish songs there occur many sly allusions to such misfortune; as in the old words to the popular tune of 'Ower the muir amang the heather:' 'Down amang the broom, the broom, Down amang the broom, my dearie, The lassie lost her silken snood, That gard her greet till she was wearie.'"
Stanza 6, line 30 Or... or. For either... or, as often in poetry.
Stanza 7, line 9 Till, frantic, etc. The MS. reads: "Till, driven to frenzy, he believed The legend of his birth received."
Stanza 7, line 14 The cloister. Here personified as feminine.
Stanza 7, line 16 Sable-lettered. "Black-letter;" the technical term for the "old English" form of letter, used in the earliest English manuscripts and books.
Stanza 7, line 20 Cabala. Mysteries. For the original meaning of the word, see Wb.
Stanza 7, line 22 Curious. Inquisitive, prying into hidden things.
Stanza 7, line 26 Hid him. See on i. 142 above.
Stanza 8, line 1 The desert gave him, etc. Scott says here: "In adopting the legend concerning the birth of the Founder of the Church of Kilmallie, the author has endeavored to trace the effects which such a belief was likely to produce, in a barbarous age, on the person to whom it related. It seems likely that he must have become a fanatic or an impostor, or that mixture of both which forms a more frequent character than either of them, as existing separately. In truth, mad persons are frequently more anxious to impress upon others a faith in their visions, than they are themselves confirmed in their reality; as, on the other hand, it is difficult for the most cool-headed impostor long to personate an enthusiast, without in some degree believing what he is so eager to have believed. It was a natural attribute of such a character as the supposed hermit, that he should credit the numerous superstitions with which the minds of ordinary Highlanders are almost always imbued. A few of these are slightly alluded to in this stanza. The River Demon, or River-horse, for it is that form which he commonly assumes, is the Kelpy of the Lowlands, an evil and malicious spirit, delighting to forebode and to witness calamity. He frequents most Highland lakes and rivers; and one of his most memorable exploits was performed upon the banks of Loch Vennachar, in the very district which forms the scene of our action: it consisted in the destruction of a funeral procession, with all its attendants. The 'noontide hag,' called in Gaelic Glas-lich, a tall, emaciated, gigantic female figure, is supposed in particular to haunt the district of Knoidart. A goblin dressed in antique armor, and having one hand covered with blood, called, from that circumstance, Lham-dearg, or Red-hand, is a tenant of the forests of Glenmore and Rothiemurcus. Other spirits of the desert, all frightful in shape and malignant in disposition, are believed to frequent different mountains and glens of the Highlands, where any unusual appearance, produced by mist, or the strange lights that are sometimes thrown upon particular objects, never fails to present an apparition to the imagination of the solitary and melancholy mountaineer."
Stanza 8, line 13 Mankind. Accented on the first syllable; as it is almost invariably in Shakespeare, except in Timon of Athens, where the modern accent prevails. Milton uses either accent, as suits the measure. We find both in P. L. viii. 358: "Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher."
Stanza 8, line 18 Alpine's. Some eds. misprint "Alpine;" also "horsemen" in 172 below.
Stanza 8, line 20 The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream. The MS. reads: "The fatal Ben-Shie's dismal scream, And seen her wrinkled form, the sign Of woe and death to Alpine's line." Scott has the following note here: "Most great families in the Highlands were supposed to have a tutelar, or rather a domestic, spirit, attached to them, who took an interest in their prosperity, and intimated, by its wailings, any approaching disaster. That of Grant of Grant was called May Moullach, and appeared in the form of a girl, who had her arm covered with hair. Grant of Rothiemurcus had an attendant called Bodach-an-dun, or the Ghost of the Hill; and many other examples might be mentioned. The Ben-Shie implies the female fairy whose lamentations were often supposed to precede the death of a chieftain of particular families. When she is visible, it is in the form of an old woman, with a blue mantle and streaming hair. A superstition of the same kind is, I believe, universally received by the inferior ranks of the native Irish. "The death of the head of a Highland family is also sometimes supposed to be announced by a chain of lights of different colours, called Dr'eug, or death of the Druid. The direction which it takes marks the place of the funeral." [See the Essay on Fairy Superstitions in Scott's Border Minstrelsy.]
Stanza 8, line 21 Sounds, too, had come, etc. Scott says: "A presage of the kind alluded to in the text, is still believed to announce death to the ancient Highland family of M'Lean of Lochbuy. The spirit of an ancestor slain in battle is heard to gallop along a stony bank, and then to ride thrice around the family residence, ringing his fairy bridle, and thus intimating the approaching calamity. How easily the eye as well as the ear may be deceived upon such occasions, is evident from the stories of armies in the air, and other spectral phenomena with which history abounds. Such an apparition is said to have been witnessed upon the side of Southfell mountain, between Penrith and Keswick, upon the 23d June, 1744, by two persons, William Lancaster of Blakehills, and Daniel Stricket his servant, whose attestation to the fact, with a full account of the apparition, dated the 21st of July, 1745, is printed in Clarke's Survey of the Lakes. The apparition consisted of several troops of horse moving in regular order, with a steady rapid motion, making a curved sweep around the fell, and seeming to the spectators to disappear over the ridge of the mountain. Many persons witnessed this phenomenon, and observed the last, or last but one, of the supposed troop, occasionally leave his rank, and pass, at a gallop, to the front, when he resumed the steady pace. The curious appearance, making the necessary allowance for imagination, may be perhaps sufficiently accounted for by optical deception."
Stanza 8, line 23 Shingly. Gravelly, pebbly.
Stanza 8, line 25 Thunderbolt. The 1st ed. has "thunder too."
Stanza 9, line 10 Framed. The reading of the 1st ed.; commonly misprinted "formed," which occurs in 195.
Stanza 9, line 12 Limbs. The 1st ed. has "limb."
Stanza 9, line 13 Inch-Cailliach. Scott says: "Inch-Cailliach, the Isle of Nuns, or of Old Women, is a most beautiful island at the lower extremity of Loch Lomond. The church belonging to the former nunnery was long used as the place of worship for the parish of Buchanan, but scarce any vestiges of it now remain. The burial-ground continues to be used, and contains the family places of sepulture of several neighboring clans. The monuments of the lairds of Macgregor, and of other families claiming a descent from the old Scottish King Alpine, are most remarkable. The Highlanders are as zealous of their rights of sepulture as may be expected from a people whose whole laws and government, if clanship can be called so, turned upon the single principle of family descent. 'May his ashes be scattered on the water,' was one of the deepest and most solemn imprecations which they used against an enemy." [See a detailed description of the funeral ceremonies of a Highland chieftain in the Fair Maid of Perth.]
Stanza 10, line 5 Dwelling low. That is, burial-place.
Stanza 10, line 9 Each clansman's execration, etc. The MS. reads: "Our warriors, on his worthless bust, Shall speak disgrace and woe;" and below: "Their clattering targets hardly strook; And first they muttered low."
Stanza 10, line 15 Stook. One of the old forms of struck. In the early eds. of Shakespeare, we find struck, stroke, and strook (or strooke) for the past tense, and all these, together with stricken, strucken, stroken, and strooken, for the participle. Cf. Milton, Hymn of Nativity, 95: "When such music sweet Their hearts and ears did greet As never was by mortal finger strook;" where, as here, it used for the sake of the rhyme.
Stanza 10, line 16 Then, like the billow, etc. The repetition of the same rhyme here gives well the cumulative effect of the rising billow.
Stanza 10, line 19 Burst, with load roar. See on i. 73 above; and cf. 227 below.
Stanza 11, line 6 Holiest name. The MS. has "holy name."
Stanza 11, line 23 Mingled with childhood's babbling trill, etc. "The whole of this stanza is very impressive; the mingling of the children's curses is the climax of horror. Note the meaning of the triple curse. The cross is of ancestral yew--the defaulter is cut off from communion with his clan; it is sealed in the fire--the fire shall destroy his dwelling; it is dipped in blood--his heart's blood is to be shed" (Taylor).
Stanza 11, line 31 Coir-Uriskin. See on 622 below.
Stanza 11, line 33 Beala-nam-bo. "The pass of the cattle," on the other side of Benvenue from the Goblin's Cave; "a magnificent glade, overhung with birch-trees, by which the cattle, taken in forays, were conveyed within the protection of the Trosachs" (Black).
Stanza 12, line 24 This sign. That is, the cross. To all, which we should not expect with bought, was apparently suggested by the antithetical to him in the preceding line; but if all the editions did not read bought, we might suspect that Scott wrote brought.
Stanza 12, line 26 The murmur, etc. The MS. has "The slowly muttered deep Amen."
Stanza 13, line 6 The muster-place, etc. The MS. reads "Murlagan is the spot decreed." Lanrick Mead is a meadow at the northwestern end of Loch Vennachar.
Stanza 14, line 1 The dun deer's hide, etc. Scott says: "The present brogue of the Highlanders is made of half-dried leather, with holes to admit and let out the water; for walking the moors dry-shod is a matter altogether out of the question. The ancient buskin was still ruder, being made of undressed deer's hide, with the hair outwards,--a circumstance which procured the Highlanders the well-known epithet of Red-shanks. The process is very accurately described by one Elder (himself a Highlander), in the project for a union between England and Scotland, addressed to Henry VIII.: 'We go a-hunting, and after that we have slain red-deer, we flay off the skin by and by, and setting of our barefoot on the inside thereof, for want of cunning shoemakers, by your grace's pardon, we play the cobblers, compassing and measuring so much thereof as shall reach up to our ankles, pricking the upper part thereof with holes, that the water may repass where it enters, and stretching it up with a strong thong of the same above our said ankles. So, and please your noble grace, we make our shoes. Therefore, we using such manner of shoes, the rough hairy side outwards, in your grace's dominions of England, we be called Rough-footed Scots' (Pinkerton's History, vol. ii. p. 397)." Cf. Marmion, v. 5: "The hunted red-deer's undressed hide Their hairy buskins well supplied."
Stanza 14, line 5 Steepy. For the word (see also iv. 374 below) and the line, cf. Shakespeare, T. of A. i. 1. 75: "Bowing his head against the steepy mount To climb his happiness."
Stanza 14, line 10 Questing. Seeking its game. Bacon (Adv. of Learning, v. 5) speaks of "the questing of memory."
Stanza 14, line 11 Scaur. Cliff, precipice; the same word as scar. Cf. Tennyson's Bugle Song: "O sweet and far, from cliff and scar;" and in the Idyls of the King: "shingly scaur."
Stanza 14, line 15 Herald of battle, etc. The MS. reads: "Dread messenger of fate and fear, Herald of danger, fate and fear, Stretch onward in thy fleet career! Thou track'st not now the stricken doe, Nor maiden coy through greenwood bough."
Stanza 15, line 1 Fast as the fatal symbol flies, etc. "The description of the starting of the Fiery Cross bears more marks of labor than most of Mr. Scott's poetry, and borders, perhaps, on straining and exaggeration; yet it shows great power" (Jeffrey).
Stanza 15, line 11 Cheer. In its original sense of countenance, or look. Cf. Shakespeare, M. N. D. iii. 2. 96: "pale of cheer;" Spenser, F. Q. i.
Stanza 15, line 12 His scythe. The reading of the 1st and other early eds.; "the scythe" in more recent ones.
Stanza 15, line 21 Alas, thou lovely lake! etc. "Observe Scott's habit of looking at nature, neither as dead, nor merely material, nor as altered by his own feelings; but as having an animation and pathos of its own, wholly irrespective of human passion--an animation which Scott loves and sympathizes with, as he would with a fellow creature, forgetting himself altogether, and subduing his own humanity before what seems to him the power of the landscape.... Instead of making Nature anywise subordinate to himself, he makes himself subordinate to HER--follows her lead simply--does not venture to bring his own cares and thoughts into her pure and quiet presence--paints her in her simple and universal truth, adding no result of momentary passion or fancy, and appears, therefore, at first shallower than other poets, being in reality wider and healthier" (Ruskin).
Stanza 15, line 23 Bosky. Bushy, woody. Cf. Milton, Comus, 313: "And every bosky bourn from side to side;" Shakespeare, Temp. iv. i. 81: "My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down," etc.
Stanza 15, line 26 Seems for the scene, etc. The MS. has "Seems all too lively and too loud."
Stanza 16, line 2 Duncraggan's huts. A homestead between Lochs Achray and Vennachar, near the Brigg of Turk.
Stanza 16, line 8 Shot him. See on i. 142 above. Scott is much given to this construction.
Stanza 16, line 10 The funeral yell, etc. The MS. has "'T is woman's scream, 't is childhood's wail." Yell may at first seem too strong a word here, but it is in keeping with the people and the times described. Besides Scott was familiar with old English poetry, in which it was often used where a modern writer would choose another word. Cf. Surrey, Virgil's AEneid: "With wailing great and women's shrill yelling;" and Gascoigne, De Profundis: "From depth of doole wherein my soule dooth dwell, ........... O gracious God, to thee I crie and yell."
Stanza 16, line 15 Torch's ray. The 1st ed. reads "torches ray" and supply;" corrected in the Errata to read as in the text. Most eds. print "torches' ray."
Stanza 16, line 22 Coronach. Scott has the following note here: "The Coronach of the Highlanders, like the Ululatus of the Romans, and the Ululoo of the Irish, was a wild expression of lamentation, poured forth by the mourners over the body of a departed friend. When the words of it were articulate, they expressed the praises of the deceased, and the loss the clan would sustain by his death. The following is a lamentation of this kind, literally translated from the Gaelic, to some of the ideas of which the text stands indebted. The tune is so popular that it has since become the war-march, or gathering of the clan. Coronach on Sir Lauchlan, Chief of Maclean. 'Which of all the Senachies Can trace thy line from the root, up to Paradise, But Macvuirih, the son of Fergus? No sooner had thine ancient stately tree Taken firm root in Albin, Than one of thy forefathers fell at Harlaw.-- 'T was then we lost a chief of deathless name. ''T is no base weed--no planted tree, Nor a seedling of last Autumn; Nor a sapling planted at Beltain; [7] Wide, wide around were spread its lofty branches-- But the topmost bough is lowly laid! Thou hast forsaken us before Sawaine. [8] 'Thy dwelling is the winter house;-- Loud, sad, and mighty is thy death-song! Oh! courteous champion of Montrose! Oh! stately warrior of the Celtic Isles! Thou shalt buckle thy harness on no more!' "The coronach has for some years past been suspended at funerals by the use of the bagpipe; and that also is, like many other Highland peculiarities, falling into disuse, unless in remote districts."
Stanza 17, line 2 He is gone, etc. As Taylor remarks, the metre of this dirge seems to be amphibrachic; that is, made up of feet, or metrical divisions, of three syllables, the second of which is accented. Some of the lines appear to be anapestic (made up of trisyllabic feet, with the last syllable accented); but the rhythm of these is amphibrachic; that is, the rhythmic pause is after the syllable that follows the accent. "(He) is gone on | the mountain, {Like) a summer- | dried fountain." Ten lines out of twenty-four are distinctly amphibrachic, as "To Duncan | no morrow." So that it seems best to treat the rest as amphibrachic, with a superfluous unaccented syllable at the beginning of the line. Taylor adds: "The song is very carefully divided. To each of the three things, mountain, forest, fountain, four lines are given, in the order 3, 1, 2."
Stanza 18, line 7 In flushing. In full bloom. Cf. Hamlet, iii. 3. 81: "broad blown, as flush as May."
Stanza 19, line 1 Correi. A hallow in the side of a hill, where game usually lies.
Stanza 19, line 2 Cumber. Trouble, perplexity. Cf. Fairfax, Tasso ii. 73: "Thus fade thy helps, and thus thy cumbers spring;" and Sir John Harrington, Epigrams, i. 94: "without all let [hindrance] or cumber."
Stanza 19, line 3 Red. Bloody, not afraid of the hand-to-hand fight.
Stanza 20, line 3 Stumah. "Faithful; the name of a dog" (Scott).
Stanza 21, line 1 Angus, the heir, etc. The MS. reads: "Angus, the first of Duncan's line, Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign, And then upon his kinsman's bier Fell Malise's suspended tear. In haste the stripling to his side His father's targe and falchion tied."
Stanza 21, line 30 Hest. Behest, bidding; used only in poetry. Cf. Shakespeare, Temp. iii. 1. 37: "I have broke your hest to say so;" Id. iv. 1. 65: "at thy hest," etc.
Stanza 22, line 1 Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, etc. Scott says here: "Inspection of the provincial map of Perthshire, or any large map of Scotland, will trace the progress of the signal through the small district of lakes and mountains, which, in exercise of my imaginary chieftain, and which, at the period of my romance, was really occupied by a clan who claimed a descent from Alpine,--a clan the most unfortunate and most persecuted, but neither the least distinguished, least powerful, nor least brave of the tribes of the Gael. "The first stage of the Fiery Cross is to Duncraggan, a place near the Brigg of Turk, where a short stream divides Loch Achray from Loch Vennachar. From thence, it passes towards Callander, and then, turning to the left up the pass of Leny, is consigned to Norman at the Chapel of Saint Bride, which stood on a small and romantic knoll in the middle of the valley, called Strath-Ire. Tombea and Arnandave, or Adrmandave, are names of places in the vicinity. The alarm is then supposed to pass along the Lake of Lubnaig, and through the various glens in the district of Balquidder, including the neighboring tracts of Glenfinlas and Strath-Gartney."
Stanza 22, line 2 Strath-Ire. This valley connects Lochs Voil and Lubnaig. The Chapel of Saint Bride is about half a mile from the southern end of Loch Lubnaig, on the banks of the River Leny, a branch of the Teith (hence "Teith's young waters"). The churchyard, with a few remains of the chapel, are all that now mark the spot.
Stanza 22, line 7 Until, where, etc. The MS. reads: "And where a steep and wooded knoll Graced the dark strath with emerald green."
Stanza 22, line 14 Though reeled his sympathetic eye. That is, his eye reeled in sympathy with the movement of the waters--a poetic expression of what every one has felt when looking into a "dizzily dancing" stream.
Stanza 22, line 27 That morning-tide. That morning time. Tide in this sense is now used only in a few poetic compounds like eventide, springtide, etc. See iv. 59 below. For its former use, cf. Spenser, F. Q. i. 2. 29: "and rest their weary limbs a tide;" Id. iii. 6. 21: "that mine may be your paine another tide," etc. See also Scott's Lay, vi. 50: "Me lists not at this tide declare."
Stanza 22, line 32 Bridal. Bridal party; used as a collective noun.
Stanza 22, line 34 Coif-clad. Wearing the coif, or curch. See on 114 above; as also for snooded.
Stanza 22, line 37 Unwitting. Unknowing. Cf. 367 above. For the verb wit, see on i. 596 above.
Stanza 22, line 45 Kerchief. Curch, which is etymologically the same word, and means a covering for the head. Some eds. print "'kerchief," as if the word were a contraction of handkerchief.
Stanza 23, line 9 Muster-place. The 1st ed. has "mustering place;" and in 519 "brooks" for brook.
Stanza 23, line 11 And must he, etc. The MS. reads: "And must he then exchange the hand."
Stanza 24, line 9 Lugnaig's lake. loch Lubnaig is about four miles long and a mile broad, hemmed in by steep, and rugged mountains. The view of Benledi from the lake is peculiarly grand and impressive.
Stanza 24, line 10 The sickening pang, etc. Cf. The Lord of the Isles, vi. 1: "The heartsick faintness of the hope delayed." See Prov. xiii. 12.
Stanza 24, line 11 And memory, etc. The MS. reads: "And memory brought the torturing train Of all his morning visions vain; But mingled with impatience came The manly love of martial fame."
Stanza 24, line 21 Brae. The brow or side of a hill.
Stanza 25, line 1 The heath, etc. The metre of the song is the same as that of the poem, the only variation being in the order of the rhymes.
Stanza 25, line 2 Bracken. Fern; "the Pteris aquilina" (Taylor).
Stanza 26, line 1 Fancy now. The MS. has "image now."
Stanza 27, line 1 A time will come, etc. The MS. reads: "A time will come for love and faith, For should thy bridegroom yield his breath, 'T will cheer him in the hour of death, The boasted right to thee, Mary."
Stanza 28, line 3 Balquidder. A village near the eastern end of Loch Voil, the burial-place of Rob Roy and the scene of many of his exploits. The Braes extend along the north side of the lake and of the Balvaig which flows into it. Scott says here: "It may be necessary to inform the Southern reader that the heath on the Scottish moorlands is often set fire to, that the sheep may have the advantage of the young herbage produced, in room of the tough old heather plants. This custom (execrated by sportsmen) produces occasionally the most beautiful nocturnal appearances, similar almost to the discharge of a volcano. This simile is not new to poetry. The charge of a warrior, in the fine ballad of Hardyknute, is said to be 'like fire to heather set.'"
Stanza 28, line 8 Nor faster speeds it, etc. "The eager fidelity with which this fatal signal is hurried on and obeyed, is represented with great spirit and felicity" (Jeffrey).
Stanza 29, line 1 Coil. Turmoil. Cf. Shakespeare, Temp. i. 2. 207: "Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason?" C. of E. iii. 1. 48: "What a coil is there, Dromio?" etc.
Stanza 29, line 3 Loch Doine. A lakelet just above Loch Voil, and almost forming a part of it. The epithets sullen and still are peculiarly appropriate to this valley. "Few places in Scotland have such an air of solitude and remoteness from the haunts of men" (Black).
Stanza 29, line 6 Strath-Gartney. The north side of the basin of Loch Katrine.
Stanza 29, line 7 Each man might claim. That is, WHO could claim. See on i. 528 above.
Stanza 31, line 6 No law but Roderick Dhu's command. Scott has the following note here: "The deep and implicit respect paid by the Highland clansmen to their chief, rendered this both a common and a solemn oath. In other respects, they were like most savage nations, capricious in their ideas concerning the obligatory power of oaths. One solemn mode of swearing was by kissing the dirk, imprecating upon themselves death by that, or a similar weapon, if they broke their vow. But for oaths in the usual form, they are said to have had little respect. As for the reverence due to the chief, it may be guessed from the following odd example of a Highland point of honour: 'The clan whereto the above-mentioned tribe belongs, is the only one I have heard of which is without a chief; that is, being divided into families, under several chieftains, without any particular patriarch of the whole name. And this is a great reproach, as may appear from an affair that fell out at my table, in the Highlands, between one of that name and a Cameron. The provocation given by the latter was, "Name your chief." The return of it at once was, "You are a fool." They went out next morning, but having early notice of it, I sent a small party of soldiers after them, which, in all probability, prevented some barbarous mischief that might have ensued; for the chiefless Highlander, who is himself a petty chieftain, was going to the place appointed with a small-sword and pistol, whereas the Cameron (an old man) took with him only his broadsword, according to the agreement. 'When all was over, and I had, at least seemingly, reconciled them, I was told the words, of which I seemed to think but slightly, were, to one of the clan, the greatest of all provocations' (Letters from Scotland, vol. ii. p. 221)."
Stanza 31, line 10 Menteith. See on i. 89 above.
Stanza 31, line 13 Rednock. The ruins of Rednock Castle are about two miles to the north of Loch Menteith, on the road to Callander. Cardross Castle (in which Robert Bruce died) was on the banks of the Clyde, a few miles below Dumbarton. Duchray Castle is a mile south of Lochard. Loch Con, or Chon, is a lakelet, about three miles northwest from Lochard (into which it drains) and two miles south of Loch Katrine.
Stanza 31, line 17 Wot ye. Know ye. See on i. 596 above.
Stanza 32, line 8 Coir-nan-Uriskin. Scott has the following note here: "This is a very steep and most romantic hollow in the mountain of Benvenue, overhanging the southeastern extremity of Loch Katrine. It is surrounded with stupendous rocks, and overshadowed with birch-trees, mingled with oaks, the spontaneous production of the mountain, even where its cliffs appear denuded of soil. A dale in so wild a situation, and amid a people whose genius bordered on the romantic, did not remain without appropriate deities. The name literally implies the Corri, or Den, of the Wild or Shaggy Men. Perhaps this, as conjectured by Mr. Alexander Campbell (Journey from Edinburgh, 1802, p. 109), may have originally only implied its being the haunt of a ferocious banditti. But tradition has ascribed to the Urisk, who gives name to the cavern, a figure between a goat and a man; in short, however much the classical reader may be startled, precisely that of the Grecian Satyr. The Urisk seems not to have inherited, with the form, the petulance of the silvan deity of the classics; his occupation, on the contrary, resembled those of Milton's Lubbar Fiend, or of the Scottish Brownie, though he differed from both in name and appearance. 'The Urisks,' says Dr. Graham, 'were a sort of lubberly supernaturals, who, like the Brownies, could be gained over by kind attention to perform the drudgery of the farm, and it was believed that many families in the Highlands had one of the order attached to it. They were supposed to be dispersed over the Highlands, each in his own wild recess, but the solemn stated meetings of the order were regularly held in this Cave of Benvenue. This current superstition, no doubt, alludes to some circumstance in the ancient history of this country' (Scenery on the Southern Confines of Perthshire, p. 19, 1806). It must be owned that the Coir, or Den, does not, in its present state, meet our ideas of a subterraneous grotto or cave, being only a small and narrow cavity, among huge fragments of rocks rudely piled together. But such a scene is liable to convulsions of nature which a Lowlander cannot estimate, and which may have choked up what was originally a cavern. At least the name and tradition warrant the author of a fictitious tale to assert its having been such at the remote period in which this scene is laid."

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