Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, When lay of hopeless love, or glory won, Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud. At each according pause, was heard aloud Thine ardent symphony sublime and high ! Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bow'd; For still the burthen of thy minstrelsy Was Knighthood's dauntless deed, and Beauty's matchless eye. O wake once more! how rude soe'er the hand And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, The wizard note has not been touch'd in vain. Then silent be no more! Enchantress, wake again! I. THE Stag at eve had drunk his fill, And deep his midnight lair had made In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; But, when the sun his beacon red Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head,' The deep-mouth'd blood-hound's heavy bay Resounded up the rocky way, And faint, from farther distance borne, Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. II. As Chief, who hears his warder call, "To arms! the foemen storm the wall," The antler'd monarch of the waste Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. But, ere his fleet career he took, The dew-drops from his flanks he shook; Like crested leader proud and high, Toss'd his beam'd frontlet to the sky; A moment gazed adown the dale, A moment snuff'd the tainted gale, A moment listen'd to the cry, That thicken'd as the chase drew nigh; Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. III. Yell'd on the view the opening pack, Rock, glen, and cavern paid them back; To many a mingled sound at once The awaken'd mountain gave response. An hundred dogs bay'd deep and strong, Clatter'd an hundred steeds along, Their peal the merry horns rung out, An hundred voices join'd the shout; With hark and whoop and wild halloo, No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. Far from the tumult fled the roe, Close in her covert cower'd the doe; On the lone wood and mighty hill. IV. Less loud the sounds of sylvan war Disturb'd the heights of Uam-Var, And roused the cavern, where 'tis told A giant made his den of old; For ere that steep ascent was won, High in his path-way hung the sun, And many a gallant, stay'd per-force, Was fain to breathe his faultering horse; And of the trackers of the deer Scarce half the lessening pack was near; So shrewdly, on the mountain-side, Had the bold burst their mettle tried. V. The noble Stag was pausing now, Upon the mountain's southern brow, And ponder'd refuge from his toil, |