631.  In slumber dewing.  That is, bedewing.  For the metaphor, cf.  Shakespeare, Rich.  III. iv. 1. 84:  “the golden dew of sleep;” and J. C. ii. 1. 230:  “the honey-heavy dew of slumber.”

635.  Morn of toil, etc.  The Ms. has “noon of hunger, night of waking;” and in the next line, “rouse” for reach.

638.  Pibroch.  “A Highland air, suited to the particular passion which the musician would either excite or assuage; generally applied to those airs that are played on the bagpipe before the Highlanders when they go out to battle” (Jamieson).  Here it is put for the bagpipe itself.  See also on ii. 363 below.

642.  And the bittern sound his drum.  Goldsmith (D.  V. 44) calls the bird “the hollow-sounding bittern;” and in his Animated Nature, he says that of all the notes of waterfowl “there is none so dismally hollow as the booming of the bittern.”

648.  She paused, etc.  The Ms. has “She paused—­but waked again the lay.”

655.  The Ms. reads:  “Slumber sweet our spells shall deal ye;” and in 657: 

“Let our slumbrous spells| avail ye
| beguile ye.”

657.  Reveille.  The call to rouse troops or huntsmen in the morning.

669.  Forest sports.  The Ms. has “mountain chase.”

672.  Not Ellens’ spell.  That is, not even Ellen’s spell.  On the passage, cf.  Rokeby, i. 2: 

    “Sleep came at length, but with a train
     Of feelings true and fancies vain,
     Mingling, in wild disorder cast,
     The expected future with the past.”

693.  Or is it all a vision now?  Lockhart quotes here Thomson’s Castle of Indolence: 

    “Ye guardian spirits, to whom man is dear,
      From these foul demons shield the midnight gloom: 
     Angels of fancy and love, be near. 
      And o’er the blank of sleep diffuse a bloom: 
     Evoke the sacred shades of Greece and Rome,
      And let them virtue with a look impart;
     But chief, awhile, O! lend us from the tomb
      Those long-lost friends for whom in love we smart,
     and fill with pious awe and joy-mixt woe the heart.

    “Or are you sportive?—­bid the morn of youth
      Rise to new light, and beam afresh the days
     Of innocence, simplicity, and truth;
      To cares estranged, and manhood’s thorny ways. 
     What transport, to retrace our boyish plays,
      Our easy bliss, when each thing joy supplied;
     The woods, the mountains, and the warbling maze
      Of the wild books!”

The Critical Review says of the following stanza (xxxiv):  “Such a strange and romantic dream as may be naturally expected to flow from the extraordinary events of the day.  It might, perhaps, be quoted as one of Mr. Scott’s most successful efforts in descriptive poetry.  Some few lines of it are indeed unrivalled for delicacy and melancholy tenderness.”