_Ave Maria!_ stainless styled! Foul demons of the earth and air, From this their wonted haunt exiled, Shall flee before thy presence fair. We bow us to our lot of care, Beneath thy guidance reconciled; Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer! And for a father hear a child! _Ave Maria!_ [219] Hail, Mary! The beginning of the Roman Catholic prayer to the Virgin Mary. [220] "Down of eider," i.e., the soft breast feathers of the eider duck. XXX. Died on the harp the closing hymn.-- Unmoved in attitude and limb, As list'ning still, Clan-Alpine's lord Stood leaning on his heavy sword, Until the page, with humble sign, Twice pointed to the sun's decline. Then while his plaid he round him cast, "It is the last time--'tis the last," He mutter'd thrice,--"the last time e'er That angel voice shall Roderick hear!" It was a goading thought--his stride Hied hastier down the mountain side; Sullen he flung him in the boat, And instant 'cross the lake it shot. They landed in that silvery bay, And eastward held their hasty way, Till, with the latest beams of light, The band arrived on Lanrick height, Where muster'd, in the vale below, Clan-Alpine's men in martial show. XXXI. A various scene the clansmen made; Some sate, some stood, some slowly stray'd; But most, with mantles folded round, Were couch'd to rest upon the ground, Scarce to be known by curious eye, From the deep heather where they lie, So well was match'd the tartan screen With heath bell dark and brackens green; Unless where, here and there, a blade, Or lance's point, a glimmer made, Like glowworm twinkling through the shade. But when, advancing through the gloom, They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume, Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, Shook the steep mountain's steady side. Thrice it arose, and lake and fell Three times return'd the martial yell; It died upon Bochastle's plain, And Silence claim'd her evening reign. CANTO FOURTH. THE PROPHECY. I. "The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears; The rose is sweetest wash'd with morning dew, And love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears. O wilding[221] rose, whom fancy thus endears, I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave, Emblem of hope and love through future years!"-- Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave, What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad wave. [221] Wild. II.