XXIX.
Ellen and Margaret fearfully
Sought comfort in each other’s eye,
Then turn’d their ghastly look, each one,
This to her sire, that to her son.
The hasty color went and came
In the bold cheek of Malcolm Græme;
But from his glance it well appear’d
’Twas but for Ellen that he fear’d;
While, sorrowful, but undismay’d,
The Douglas thus his counsel said:—
“Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar,
It may but thunder, and pass o’er;
Nor will I here remain an hour,
To draw the lightning on thy bower;
For well thou know’st, at this gray head
The royal bolt were fiercest sped.
For thee, who, at thy King’s command,
Canst aid him with a gallant band,
Submission, homage, humbled pride,
Shall turn the monarch’s wrath aside.
Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart,[150]
The refuge of some forest cell,
There, like the hunted quarry, dwell,
Till on the mountain and the moor,
The stern pursuit be pass’d and o’er.“