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But solemn is the silence of the silvery haze
That drinks away their voices in echoless repose, And dreamily the evening has stilled the haunted braes,
And dreamier the gloaming grows.
And sinking one by one, like lark-notes from the sky When the falcon's shadow saileth across the open
shaw, Are hushed the maiden's voices, as cowering down they
For, from the air above, and the grassy ground beneath, And from the mountain-ashes, and the old white
thorn between, A power of faint enchantment doth through their beings
Thus clasped and prostrate all, with their heads together
bowed, Soft o'er their bosoms beating--the only human
soundThey hear the silky footsteps of the silent fairy crowd,
Like a river in the air, gliding round.
Nor scream can any raise, nor prayer can any say,
But wild, wild the terror of the speechless three For they feel fair Anna Grace drawn silently away,
By whom they dare not look to see.
They feel their tresses twine with her parting locks of
gold, And the curls elastic falling, as her head withdraws, They feel her sliding arms from their trancèd arms
For heavy on their senses the faint enchantment lies Through all that night of anguish and perilous
amaze; And neither fear nor wonder can ope their quivering
Or their limbs from the cold ground raise. Till out of Night the Earth has rolled her dewy side, With every haunted mountain and streamy vale
below; When, as the mist dissolves in the yellow morning tide,
The maidens' trance dissolveth so.
And tell their tale of sorrow to anxious friends in
They pined away and died within the year and dayAnd ne'er was Anna Grace seen again.
(By permission of the Author.)
A SCENE FROM DOUGLAS.
THE REV. John Home, [John Home was born in Roxburghshire in 1724. He was educated for the Church, but in the rebellion of 1745, entered the Royal army, and was taken prisoner at the Battle of Falkirk. He contrived to escape, and was ordained minister of Athelstaneford, in East Lothian, 1750. His tragedy of “ Douglas" was performed with great success in Edinburgh ; but the fact of a clergyman writing a play at all so offended the presbytery, that he was com. pelled to resign his living. He wrote four other plays, none of which attracted, and "A History of the Rebellion of 1745-6," which was also considered a failure. He died, aged 85, 1808.]
CHARACTERS. LORD RANDOLPH. GLENALVON. | NORVAL. Glen. His port I love: he's in a proper mood [Aside, To chide the thunder, if at him it roared. Has Norval seen the troops ?
Norv. The setting syn
With yellow radiance lightened all the vale,
Glen. Thou talk'st it well; no leader of our host,
Norv. If I should e'er acquire a leader's name My speech will be less ardent. Novelty Now prompts my tongue, and youthful admiration Vents itself freely; since no part is mine Of praise pertaining to the great in arms. Glen. You wrong yourself, brave sir, your martial
deeds Have ranked you with the great. But mark me, Norval; Lord Randolph's favour now exalts your youth Above his veterans of famous service. Let me, who know these soldiers, counsel you. Give them all honour: seem not to command, Else they will hardly brook your late-sprung power, Which nor alliance props nor birth adorns.
Norv. Sir, I have been accustomed all my days
Glen. I did not mean
Norv. My pride!
Glen. Suppress it as you wish to prosper;
and frown at high-born men, Will high-born men endure a shepherd's scorn?
If thus you
Norv. A shepherd's scorn!
Glen. Yes, if you presume
you took the measure of their minds, And said in secret, You're no match for me, What will become of you ?
Norv. Hast thou no fears for thy presumptuous self?
Glen. Unwillingly I did; a nobler foe
Norv. Whom dost thou think me?
Norv. So I am-
Glen. A peasant's son, a wandering beggar-boy;
Norv. False as thou art, dost thou suspect my truth?
Glen. Thy truth; thou’rt all a lie; and false as hell Is the vain-glorious tale thou told'st to Randolph.
Norv. If I were chained, unarmed, or bedrid old, Perhaps I should revile ; but as I am, I have no tongue to rail. The humble Norval Is of a race who strive not but with deeds. Did I not fear to freeze thy shallow valour, And make thee sink too soon beneath my sw
sword, I'd tell thee-what thou art. I know thee well.
Glen. Dost thou not know Glenalvon, born to command Ten thousand slaves like thee ?
Norv. Villain, no more !
Enter LORD RANDOLPH. · Lord Rand. Hold! I command you both! The man
that stirs Makes me his foe.
Norv. Another voice than thine, That threat had vainly sounded, noble Randolph. Glen. Hear him, my lord; he's wondrous con
descending! Mark the humility of shepherd Norval!
Norv. Now you may scoff in safety.
Lord Rand. Speak not thus,
Norv. Nay, my good lord, though I revere you much,
my bosom reigns another lord; Honour, sole judge and umpire of itself. If my free speech offend
offend you, noble Randolph, Revoke your favours,
and let Norval go Hence as he came, but not dishonoured ! Lord Rand. Thus far I'll mediate with impartial
Glen. I agree to this.
Norv. Think not so lightly, sir, of my resentment; When we contend again, our strife is mortal.