Scott's Lady of the Lake

by Walter Scott

Still, though thy sire the peace renew’d,

Smolders in Roderick’s breast the feud.

Beware!—But hark, what sounds are these?

My dull ears catch no faltering breeze;

No weeping birch, nor aspens wake,

Nor breath is dimpling in the lake;

Still is the canna’s[117] hoary beard;

Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard—

And hark again! some pipe of war

Sends the bold pibroch from afar.”