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   Chapter 103 No.103

The Lady of the Lake By Walter Scott Characters: 1011

Updated: 2017-12-01 00:03

Their Chief, with step reluctant, still

Was lingering on the craggy hill,

Hard by where turned apart the road

690 To Douglas's obscure abode.

It was but with that dawning morn,

That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn

To drown his love in war's wild roar,

Nor think of Ellen Douglas more;

695 But he who stems a stream with sand,

And fetters flame with flaxen band,

Has yet a harder task to prove-

By firm resolve to conquer love!

Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost,

700 Still hovering near his treasure lost;

For though his haughty heart deny

A parting meeting to his eye,

Still fondly strains his anxious ear,

The accents of her voice to hear,

705 And inly did he curse the breeze

That waked to sound the rustling trees.

But hark! what mingles in the strain?

It is the harp of Allan-bane,

That wakes its measures slow and high,

710 Attuned to sacred minstrelsy.

What melting voice attends the strings?

'Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings.

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