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   Chapter 194 No.194

The Lady of the Lake By Walter Scott Characters: 1310

Updated: 2017-12-01 00:03


As wreath of snow, on mountain breast,

Slides from the rock that gave it rest,

Poor Ellen glided from her stay,

And at the Monarch's feet she lay;

745 No word her choking voice commands-

She showed the ring-she clasped her hands.

Oh! not a moment could he brook,

The generous Prince, that suppliant look!

Gently he raised her-and, the while,

750 Checked with a glance the circle's smile;

Graceful, but grave, her brow he kissed,

And bade her terrors be dismissed:

"Yes, Fair; the wandering poor Fitz-James

The fealty of Scotland claims.

755 To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring;

He will redeem his signet-ring.

Ask naught for Douglas; yester even

His prince and he have much forgiven.

Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue,

760 I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong.

We would not, to the vulgar crowd,

Yield what they craved with clamor loud;

Calmly we heard and judged his cause,

Our council aided, and our laws.

765 I stanched thy father's death-feud stern,

With stout De Vaux and gray Glencairn;

And Bothwell's lord henceforth we own

The friend and bulwark of our throne.

But, lovely infidel, how now?

770 What clouds thy misbelieving brow?

Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid;

Thou must confirm this doubting maid."

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