The lord of the isles . ll hath sunk; Enter, and rest thee there a space, Wrap in my plaid thy limbs, thy face. I will not he, believe inc. far ; But must not quit the ranks of war. Well will I mark the bosky bourne, And soon, to guard thee hence, return.— Nay, weep not so, thou simple boy ! But sleep in peace, and wake in joy. In silvan lodging close hestowd, He placed the page, and onward strode With strength put forth, oer moss and brook, And soon the marching band oertook. 1 This caul i> not distinguished by many passages of extraordinarymerit ; as it is. however, lull of business, ami


The lord of the isles . ll hath sunk; Enter, and rest thee there a space, Wrap in my plaid thy limbs, thy face. I will not he, believe inc. far ; But must not quit the ranks of war. Well will I mark the bosky bourne, And soon, to guard thee hence, return.— Nay, weep not so, thou simple boy ! But sleep in peace, and wake in joy. In silvan lodging close hestowd, He placed the page, and onward strode With strength put forth, oer moss and brook, And soon the marching band oertook. 1 This caul i> not distinguished by many passages of extraordinarymerit ; as it is. however, lull of business, ami comparatively free from thoselong rhyming dialogues which are so frequent in the poem, it is upon thewhole spirited and pleasing. The scene in which Ronald is described shelterin- Edith under his plaid, lor the love which he bears to [sabel, is we think,more poetically conceived than any other in the whole poem, and containssome touches of great pathos and beauty.—Quarterly !:<<?,< n- UK LORD OF THE [SLES. XXII. Thus strangely left, long sobbd and weplThe page, till, wearied out, he slept — THE LORD 01- THE LSLES A rough voice waked his dream—Nay, hewHere by this thicket passd the deer—Beneath that oak old Ryno staid—What have we here? — a Scottish plaid,And in its folds a stripling laid?—Come forth ! thy name and business tell !—?What, silent?—then I guess thee well,The spy that sought old Cuthberts cell,Wafted from Arran yester morn —Come, comrades, we will straight Lord may choose the rack should teachTo this young lurcher use of bow-string, till I Mud him fast.—Nay, but he weeps and stands aghast :Unbound well lead him, fear it not;lis a fair stripling, though a hunters to the castle sped,And there the hapless captive led. XXIII. Stout Clifford in the castle-courtPrepared him for the morning sport ;And now with Lorn held deep gave command for hound and and palfreys pawd the ground


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Keywords: ., bookauthorturnerjmwjosephmallor, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850