Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/182

182 Fair Ellen's form that charm'd the view And strangely moved stern Roderick Dhu?— Or didst thou mark that witching smile Which could a father's wo beguile, Make even a banish'd Earl forget The splendour of his coronet, His knightly train, his courtly bower, And all the entrancing pomp of power?— —Say, didst thou feel the zephyr meek Which raised the tresses from her cheek?— Or hear the ruder gale that woo'd Her light boat o'er the silver flood?— Or didst thou catch the sigh that broke From him by nameless feeling woke, Who in his suit of Lincoln green Suprised, beheld that maid serene, With dext'rous art her voyage make, The Naiad of that silver lake?— —'T is magic all!—and can it be That thus I hold a leaf from thee Majestic Oak!—and with it find A sprig of heather close entwined; And hardy fern that drank the dew Near cold Loch Katrine's mirror blue?— —Methinks with these should pour along That wildering tide of minstrel song, Which makes the soil that gave them birth The holiest spot on Fancy's earth.— Yes Scotia!—though thy rugged coast Of Nature's wealth can scantly boast, Yet haughty brows and spirits free Have donn'd the pilgrims weeds for thee,