The lord of the isles . guest.:Talk not to me, fierce Lorn replied,Of odds or match! — When Comyn died,Three daggers clashd within his side !Talk not to me of sheltering hall,The church of Goo saw Comyn fall !On Gods own altar streamd his oer my prostrate kinsman stoodThe ruthless murderer—een as now—With armed hand and scornful brow!Up, all who love me ! blow on blow !And lay the outlawd felons low! XVI. Then up sprung many a mainland Lord,Obedient to their Chieftains arm is high in air,And Kinloch-Allines blade is hare,Black Mnrthoks dirk has left its sheath,Ami
The lord of the isles . guest.:Talk not to me, fierce Lorn replied,Of odds or match! — When Comyn died,Three daggers clashd within his side !Talk not to me of sheltering hall,The church of Goo saw Comyn fall !On Gods own altar streamd his oer my prostrate kinsman stoodThe ruthless murderer—een as now—With armed hand and scornful brow!Up, all who love me ! blow on blow !And lay the outlawd felons low! XVI. Then up sprung many a mainland Lord,Obedient to their Chieftains arm is high in air,And Kinloch-Allines blade is hare,Black Mnrthoks dirk has left its sheath,Ami clenchd is Dermids hand of mutterd threats of vengeance swellInto a wild and warlike yell ; THE LOKI.) OF THE ISLES. (inward they press with weapons high,The affrighted females shriek and fly,And, Scotland, then thy brightest rayHad darkend ere its noon of day,But every chief of birth and fame,That from the Isles of Ocean came,At Ronalds side that hour withstoodFierce Lorns relentless thirst for XVII. Brave Torquil from Dunvegan of the misty hills of Skye,Mac-Niel, wild Baras ancient thane,Duart, of hold Clan Gillians strain,Fergus, of faunas castled hay,Mac-] Miflitli, Lord of (Jolonsay,Soon as they saw the broadswords glance,Witli ready weapons rose at once. THE LORD OF THE ISLES, More prompt, thai many an ancient fend,Full ofi suppressd, lull oft renewd,Glow-d twixt the chieftains of ,And many a lord of oceans was the scene — each sword was streamd each chieftains shaggy hair,In gloomy opposition , hands, and brandishd weapons met ;Blue gleaming oer the social hoard,Flashd to the torches many a sword;And soon those bridal lights may shineOn purple blood for rosy wine. XVIII. While thus for blows and death prepared,Each heart was up, each weapon bared,Each foot advanced, — a surly pauseStill reverenced hospitable menaced violence, but alikeReluctant each the first to strike,(For aye accursed i
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