And, by the watch-fire's glimmering light,
Close by the minstrel's side was seen
An huntress maid, in beauty bright,
All dropping wet her robes of green.
All dropping wet her garments seem;
Chill'd was her cheek, her bosom bare,
As, bending o'er the dying gleam,
She wrung the moisture from her hair.
With maiden blush she softly said,
"O gentle huntsman, hast thou seen,
"In deep Glenfinlas' moon-light glade,
"A lovely maid in vest of green:
"With her a chief in Highland pride;
"His shoulders bear the hunter's bow,
"The mountain dirk adorns his side,
"Far on the wind his tartans flow?"
"And who art thou? and who are they?"
All ghastly gazing, Moy replied:
"And why, beneath the moon's pale ray,
"Dare ye thus roam Glenfinlas' side?"
"Where wild Loch Katrine pours her tide,
"Blue, dark, and deep, round many an isle,
"Our father's towers o'erhang her side,
"The castle of the bold Glengyle.
"To chase the dun Glenfinlas deer,
"Our woodland course this morn we bore,
"And haply met, while wandering here,
"The son of great Macgillianore.
"O aid me, then, to seek the pair,
"Whom, loitering in the woods, I lost;
"Alone, I dare not venture there,
"Where walks, they say, the shrieking ghost."
"Yes, many a shrieking ghost walks there;
"Then, first, my own sad vow to keep,
"Here will I pour my midnight prayer,
"Which still must rise when mortals sleep."
"O first, for pity's gentle sake,
"Guide a lone wanderer on her way!
"For I must cross the haunted brake,
"And reach my father's towers ere day."