Will friends and allies flock enow;
Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief,
Will bind to us each Western Chief
When the loud pipes my bridal tell,
The Links of Forth shall hear the knell,
The guards shall start in Stirling’s porch;
And when I light the nuptial torch,
A thousand villages in flames
Shall scare the slumbers of King James!—­
Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away,
And, mother, cease these signs, I pray;
I meant not all my heat might say.—­
Small need of inroad or of fight,
When the sage Douglas may unite
Each mountain clan in friendly band,
To guard the passes of their land,
Till the foiled King from pathless glen
Shall bootless turn him home again.’

XXXI.

There are who have, at midnight hour,
In slumber scaled a dizzy tower,
And, on the verge that beetled o’er
The ocean tide’s incessant roar,
Dreamed calmly out their dangerous dream,
Till wakened by the morning beam;
When, dazzled by the eastern glow,
Such startler cast his glance below,
And saw unmeasured depth around,
And heard unintermitted sound,
And thought the battled fence so frail,
It waved like cobweb in the gale;
Amid his senses’ giddy wheel,
Did he not desperate impulse feel,
Headlong to plunge himself below,
And meet the worst his fears foreshow?—­
Thus Ellen, dizzy and astound,
As sudden ruin yawned around,
By crossing terrors wildly tossed,
Still for the Douglas fearing most,
Could scarce the desperate thought withstand,
To buy his safety with her hand.

XXXII.

Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy
In Ellen’s quivering lip and eye,
And eager rose to speak,—­but ere
His tongue could hurry forth his fear,
Had Douglas marked the hectic strife,
Where death seemed combating with life;
For to her cheek, in feverish flood,
One instant rushed the throbbing blood,
Then ebbing back, with sudden sway,
Left its domain as wan as clay. 
‘Roderick, enough! enough!’ he cried,
’My daughter cannot be thy bride;
Not that the blush to wooer dear,
Nor paleness that of maiden fear. 
It may not be,—­forgive her,
Chief, Nor hazard aught for our relief. 
Against his sovereign, Douglas ne’er
Will level a rebellious spear. 
’T was I that taught his youthful hand
To rein a steed and wield a brand;
I see him yet, the princely boy! 
Not Ellen more my pride and joy;
I love him still, despite my wrongs
By hasty wrath and slanderous tongues. 
O. seek the grace you well may find,
Without a cause to mine combined!’

XXXIII.