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One lovely hand she stretched for aid,
And one was round her lover.
“Come back! come back!” he cried in grief,
“ Across this stormy water;
My daughter! O my daughter!”
'Twas vain : the loud waves lashed the shore,
Return or aid preventing.
And he was left lamenting.
a-vaunť (-vawnt'), begone. Lo-chiel' (lo-keell), a Highland chiefclay'more, a large two-handed sword. tain who fought for the Pretender crested, having a crest or symbol of on the field of Culloden. rank.
peer'less, without a peer or equal. do'tard, one in his second childhood. phan'tom, a ghost, a specter. ey'ry (ālry), the nests of birds of reeks, smokes. prey.
sooth'less, truthless, false.
Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day,
But, hark! through the fast-flashing lightning of war,
Go preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer !
if gory Culloden so dreadful appear, Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight, This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright!
Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn?
Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn:
LOCHIEL. False wizard, avaunt! I have marshaled my clan, Their swords are a thousand, — their bosoms are one ! They are true to the last of their blood and their breath, And like reapers descend to the harvest of death. Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock! Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock! But woe to his kindred, and woe to his cause, When Albin her claymore indignantly draws ! When her bonneted chieftains to victory crowd, Clanranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud, All plaided and plumed in their tartan array, —
SEER. Lochiel ! Lochiel ! beware of the day! For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal, But man can not cover what God would reveal. 'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before. I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring With the blood-hounds that bark for thy fugitive king. Lo! anointed by Heaven with the vials of wrath, Behold, where he flies on his desolate path! Now in darkness and billows he sweeps from my sight; Rise! rise! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight ! 'Tis finished. Their thunders are hushed on the moors: Culloden is lost, and my country deplores.
But where is the iron-bound prisoner? where?
Down, soothless insulter! I trust not the tale. For never shall Albin a destiny meet So black with dishonor, so foul with retreat. Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their
gore Like ocean-weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore, Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains, While the kindling of life in his bosom remains Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low, With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe! And, leaving in battle no blot on his name, Look proudly to Heaven from the death-bed of fame!
THE LAST MAN.
en-tailed, settled firmly, bequeathed. tro'phied (tro'fid), adorned with tropag'eant (pajlant), fleeting show. phies. parted, departed.
vas'sals, servants, slaves. se-pulchral, pertaining to the grave. vis'ion (vizh'un), a sight. sear, dry.
wan, of a pale, sickly hue.
All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom,
The sun himself must die,
Adown the gulf of time:
As Adam saw her prime.
The sun's eye had a sickly glare,
The earth with age was wan,
Around that lonely man!
In plague and famine some:
To shores where all was dumb,