. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. ns crest he wore. And sheathed in armor trode the shore. Slighting the petty need he showed. He told of his benighted road ; His ready speech flowed fair and free. In phrase of gentlest courtesj. Yet seemed that tone and gesture bland Less used to sue than to command. Awhile the maid the stranger , reassured, at length replied, 162 SCOTTS POETICAL WORKS. That Highland halls were open stillTo uilderecl wanderers of the hill. Nor think you unexpected comeTo yon lone isle, our desert home;Before th
. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. ns crest he wore. And sheathed in armor trode the shore. Slighting the petty need he showed. He told of his benighted road ; His ready speech flowed fair and free. In phrase of gentlest courtesj. Yet seemed that tone and gesture bland Less used to sue than to command. Awhile the maid the stranger , reassured, at length replied, 162 SCOTTS POETICAL WORKS. That Highland halls were open stillTo uilderecl wanderers of the hill. Nor think you unexpected comeTo yon lone isle, our desert home;Before the heath had lost the dew,This morn, a couch was pulled for you;On yontler mountains purple headHave ptarmigan and heath-cock bled,And our broad nets have swcjjt the mere, I well believe, that neer before \our foot has trod Loch Katrines shore ; But yet, as far as yesternight, Old Allan-bane foretold your plight, — A gray-haired sire, whose eye intent Was on the visioned future bent. He saw your steed, a dappled gray. Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; Painted exact your form and To furnish forth your evening cheer. — Now, l)y the rood, my lovely maid,Your courtesy has erred, he said ; No right have I to claim, misplaced,The welcome of expected wanderer, here by fortune tost,l\Iy way, my friends, my courser lost,I neerbefore, believe me, ever drawn your mountain air,Till on this lakes romantic strandI found a fay in fairy land ! — I well believe, the maid replied. As her light skiff approached the side,- Your hunting-suit of Lincoln green,That tasselled horn so gayly falchions crooked blade and cap with heron plumage yon two hounds so dark and bade that all should ready beTo grace a guest of fair degree ;But light I held his deemed it was my fathers hornWhose echoes oer the lake were borne.* XXIV. The stranger smiled : — Since to your homeA destined errant-knight I come, THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 163
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