The lord of the isles . rs haughty heart, If right this guess of mine. He ceased, and it was silence the Minstrel waked the 1 The description of the bridal feast, in the second canto, lias severalanimated ;; but the real power and poetry of the author do not appearto us to be called out until the occasion of the Highland quarrel which followsthe feast,—Monthly Review, March 1815. - In a very different style of excellence (from that of the first threestanzas) is the triumphant and insulting song of the bard of Lorn, com-memorating the pretended victory of his chief over R
The lord of the isles . rs haughty heart, If right this guess of mine. He ceased, and it was silence the Minstrel waked the 1 The description of the bridal feast, in the second canto, lias severalanimated ;; but the real power and poetry of the author do not appearto us to be called out until the occasion of the Highland quarrel which followsthe feast,—Monthly Review, March 1815. - In a very different style of excellence (from that of the first threestanzas) is the triumphant and insulting song of the bard of Lorn, com-memorating the pretended victory of his chief over Robert , in one oftheir rencontres. Bruce, in truth, had been set on by some of that clan, andhad extricated himself from a fearful overmatch by stupendous exertions. Inthe struggle, however, the broach which fastened his royal mantle had beentorn off by the assailants ; and it is on the subject of this trophy that theCeltic poet pours forth this wild, rapid, and spirited strain.—Jeffrey. TUB LORD OK TUT) ISLES. XL <Tbe ilroncb of Whence the broach of burning goldThat clasps the Chieftains mantle-fold,Wrought and chased with rare device,Studded fair with gems of price,2 1 See Appendix, Note Great art and expense was bestowed upon the fibula, or broach, whisecured the plaid, when the wearer was a person of importance. Marl 78 THE LORD OF THE ISLES CANTO II. On the varied tartans beaming, As, through nights pale rainbow gleaming, Fainter now, now seen afar, Fitful shines the northern star ? Gem ! neer wrought on highland mountain,Did the fairy of the fountain,Or the mermaid of the wave,Frame thee in some coral cave?Did in Icelands darksome mineDwarfs swart hands thy metal twine ?Or, mortal-moulded, comest thou here,From Englands love, or Frances fear? XII. sronct ! — thy splendours nothing tellForeign art or faery thou for Monarchs the overweening Bruce,When the royal robe he tiedOer a heart of wrath and pride ; mentions h
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