Scott's Lady of the Lake

Harp of the North![1 - The poet invokes the spirit that animated the ancient Scottish minstrels, whose songs were usually accompanied by the music of the harp.] that moldering long hast hung
On the witch-elm[2 - Called also the “wizard elm,” because forked twigs from the tree were used as divining rods.] that shades St. Fillan’s[3 - A Scotch abbot of the seventh century.] spring,
And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung,
Till envious ivy did around thee cling,
Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, —
O minstrel Harp! still must thine accents sleep?
Mid rustling leaves and fountain’s murmuring,
Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep,
Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep?

Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon,[4 - The Romans gave the name Caledonia to that part of Scotland north of the Clyde and Forth.]
Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd,
When lay of hopeless love, or glory won,
Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud.
At each according pause, was heard aloud
Thine ardent symphony sublime and high!
Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bow’d;
For still the burden of thy minstrelsy
Was Knighthood’s dauntless deed, and Beauty’s matchless eye.

Oh, wake once more! how rude soe’er the hand
That ventures o’er thy magic maze to stray;
Oh, wake once more! though scarce my skill command
Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay:
Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away,
And all unworthy of thy nobler strain,
Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway,
The wizard note has not been touch’d in vain.

Then silent be no more! Enchantress, wake again!

I

The stag at eve had drunk his fill,
Where danced the moon on Monan’s[5 - St. Monan was a Scotch monk of the fourth century. The rill cannot be identified.] rill,
And deep his midnight lair had made
In lone Glenartney’s hazel shade;
But, when the sun his beacon red
Had kindled on Benvoirlich’s head,
The deep-mouth’d bloodhound’s heavy bay
Resounded up the rocky way,
And faint, from farther distance borne,
Were heard the clanging hoof and horn.

II

As Chief, who hears his warder[7 - For the meaning of technical terms, colloquialisms, and unusual words not to be found in a school dictionary, see Glossary (#litres_trial_promo) at the end of volume.] call,
“To arms! the foemen storm the wall,”
The antler’d monarch of the waste
Sprung from his heathery[8 - The heath or heather is a small ever-green shrub very common in the Scottish Highlands.] couch in haste.
But, ere his fleet career he took,
The dewdrops from his flanks he shook;
Like crested leader proud and high,
Toss’d his beam’d[9 - The head of a stag is said to be beamed after its fourth-year horns appear.] frontlet to the sky;
A moment gazed adown the dale,
A moment snuff’d the tainted gale,[10 - “Tainted gale,” i.e., the wind scented with the odor of the pursuers.]
A moment listen’d to the cry,
That thicken’d as the chase drew nigh;
Then, as the headmost foes appear’d,
With one brave bound the copse he clear’d,
And, stretching forward free and far,
Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var.

III

Yell’d on the view the opening[12 - A pack of hounds is said to "open" when the dogs begin to bark, upon recovering the scent or catching sight of the game.] pack;
Rock, glen, and cavern, paid them back;
To many a mingled sound at once
The awaken’d mountain gave response.
A hundred dogs bay’d deep and strong,
Clatter’d a hundred steeds along,
Their peal the merry horns rung out,
A hundred voices join’d the shout;
With hark and whoop and wild halloo,
No rest Benvoirlich’s echoes knew.
Far from the tumult fled the roe,
Close in her covert cower’d the doe,
The falcon, from her cairn on high,
Cast on the rout[13 - A confused or boisterous gathering.] a wondering eye,
Till far beyond her piercing ken[14 - Sight.]
The hurricane had swept the glen.
Faint, and more faint, its failing din
Return’d from cavern, cliff, and linn,[15 - A deep pool.]
And silence settled, wide and still,
On the lone wood and mighty hill.

IV

Less loud the sounds of silvan war
Disturb’d the heights of Uam-Var,
And roused the cavern, where, ’tis told,
A giant made his den of old;
For ere that steep ascent was won,
High in his pathway hung the sun,
And many a gallant, stay’d perforce,
Was fain to breathe his faltering horse,
And of the trackers of the deer,
Scarce half the lessening pack was near;
So shrewdly[16 - Severely.] on the mountain side
Had the bold burst their mettle tried.