The Lady Of The Lake: Canto Ii. - The Island Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBCCDCEE AF GCGGCHIJJ KLKKLMMJJ AN AOAAOPPJJ EJEEJQQJ ARRSSTTUUVVWWXXYYZZA 2A2 UB2B2C2C2TTD2D2UUE2E 2F2F2AA AG2G2H2H2CCZZJJRRJJI 2I2 I2J2J2A I2I2K2K2W I2I2XX AL2L2I2I2 I2EEI2I2JJI2I2M2M2I2 I2J AI2I2AAN2N2JJVVJJZZB BJJA L2O2O2M2M2DDL2L2FFMP 2I2I2I2I2AAI2I2L2L2U UL2L2ZZ I2I2 L2CCJJI2I2I2I2L2L2L2 L2AAI2 UI2I2UUCULLAACCI2I2

IA
At morn the black cock trims his jetty wingB
'T is morning prompts the linnet's blithest layC
All Nature's children feel the matin springB
Of life reviving with reviving dayC
And while yon little bark glides down the bayC
Wafting the stranger on his way againD
Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel grayC
And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strainE
Mixed with the sounding harp O white haired Allan baneE
-
IIA
SongF
-
'Not faster yonder rowers' mightG
Flings from their oars the sprayC
Not faster yonder rippling brightG
That tracks the shallop's course in lightG
Melts in the lake awayC
Than men from memory eraseH
The benefits of former daysI
Then stranger go good speed the whileJ
Nor think again of the lonely isleJ
-
'High place to thee in royal courtK
High place in battled lineL
Good hawk and hound for sylvan sportK
Where beauty sees the brave resortK
The honored meed be thineL
True be thy sword thy friend sincereM
Thy lady constant kind and dearM
And lost in love's and friendship's smileJ
Be memory of the lonely isleJ
-
IIIA
Song ContinuedN
-
'But if beneath yon southern skyA
A plaided stranger roamO
Whose drooping crest and stifled sighA
And sunken cheek and heavy eyeA
Pine for his Highland homeO
Then warrior then be thine to showP
The care that soothes a wanderer's woeP
Remember then thy hap erewhileJ
A stranger in the lonely isleJ
-
'Or if on life's uncertain mainE
Mishap shall mar thy sailJ
If faithful wise and brave in vainE
Woe want and exile thou sustainE
Beneath the fickle galeJ
Waste not a sigh on fortune changedQ
On thankless courts or friends estrangedQ
But come where kindred worth shall smileJ
To greet thee in the lonely isle '-
-
IVA
As died the sounds upon the tideR
The shallop reached the mainland sideR
And ere his onward way he tookS
The stranger cast a lingering lookS
Where easily his eye might reachT
The Harper on the islet beachT
Reclined against a blighted treeU
As wasted gray and worn as heU
To minstrel meditation givenV
His reverend brow was raised to heavenV
As from the rising sun to claimW
A sparkle of inspiring flameW
His hand reclined upon the wireX
Seemed watching the awakening fireX
So still he sat as those who waitY
Till judgment speak the doom of fateY
So still as if no breeze might dareZ
To lift one lock of hoary hairZ
So still as life itself were fledA2
In the last sound his harp had spedA2
-
VU
Upon a rock with lichens wildB2
Beside him Ellen sat and smiledB2
Smiled she to see the stately drakeC2
Lead forth his fleet upon the lakeC2
While her vexed spaniel from the beachT
Bayed at the prize beyond his reachT
Yet tell me then the maid who knowsD2
Why deepened on her cheek the roseD2
Forgive forgive FidelityU
Perchance the maiden smiled to seeU
Yon parting lingerer wave adieuE2
And stop and turn to wave anewE2
And lovely ladies ere your ireF2
Condemn the heroine of my lyreF2
Show me the fair would scorn to spyA
And prize such conquest of her eveA
-
VIA
While yet he loitered on the spotG2
It seemed as Ellen marked him notG2
But when he turned him to the gladeH2
One courteous parting sign she madeH2
And after oft the knight would sayC
That not when prize of festal dayC
Was dealt him by the brightest fairZ
Who e'er wore jewel in her hairZ
So highly did his bosom swellJ
As at that simple mute farewellJ
Now with a trusty mountain guideR
And his dark stag hounds by his sideR
He parts the maid unconscious stillJ
Watched him wind slowly round the hillJ
But when his stately form was hidI2
The guardian in her bosom chidI2
'Thy Malcolm vain and selfish maid '-
'T was thus upbraiding conscience saidI2
'Not so had Malcolm idly hungJ2
On the smooth phrase of Southern tongueJ2
Not so had Malcolm strained his eyeA
Another step than thine to spy '-
'Wake Allan bane ' aloud she criedI2
To the old minstrel by her sideI2
'Arouse thee from thy moody dreamK2
I 'll give thy harp heroic themeK2
And warm thee with a noble nameW
Pour forth the glory of the Graeme '-
Scarce from her lip the word had rushedI2
When deep the conscious maiden blushedI2
For of his clan in hall and bowerX
Young Malcolm Graeme was held the flowerX
-
VIIA
The minstrel waked his harp three timesL2
Arose the well known martial chimesL2
And thrice their high heroic prideI2
In melancholy murmurs diedI2
'Vainly thou bidst O noble maid '-
Clasping his withered hands he saidI2
'Vainly thou bidst me wake the strainE
Though all unwont to bid in vainE
Alas than mine a mightier handI2
Has tuned my harp my strings has spannedI2
I touch the chords of joy but lowJ
And mournful answer notes of woeJ
And the proud march which victors treadI2
Sinks in the wailing for the deadI2
O well for me if mine aloneM2
That dirge's deep prophetic toneM2
If as my tuneful fathers saidI2
This harp which erst Saint Modan swayedI2
Can thus its master's fate foretellJ
Then welcome be the minstrel's knell '-
-
VIIIA
'But ah dear lady thus it sighedI2
The eve thy sainted mother diedI2
And such the sounds which while I stroveA
To wake a lay of war or loveA
Came marring all the festal mirthN2
Appalling me who gave them birthN2
And disobedient to my callJ
Wailed loud through Bothwell's bannered hallJ
Ere Douglases to ruin drivenV
Were exiled from their native heavenV
O if yet worse mishap and woeJ
My master's house must undergoJ
Or aught but weal to Ellen fairZ
Brood in these accents of despairZ
No future bard sad Harp shall flingB
Triumph or rapture from thy stringB
One short one final strain shall flowJ
Fraught with unutterable woeJ
Then shivered shall thy fragments lieA
Thy master cast him down and die '-
-
IXL2
Soothing she answered him 'AssuageO2
Mine honored friend the fears of ageO2
All melodies to thee are knownM2
That harp has rung or pipe has blownM2
In Lowland vale or Highland glenD
From Tweed to Spey what marvel thenD
At times unbidden notes should riseL2
Confusedly bound in memory's tiesL2
Entangling as they rush alongF
The war march with the funeral songF
Small ground is now for boding fearM
Obscure but safe we rest us hereP2
My sire in native virtue greatI2
Resigning lordship lands and stateI2
Not then to fortune more resignedI2
Than yonder oak might give the windI2
The graceful foliage storms may reeveA
'Fine noble stem they cannot grieveA
For me' she stooped and looking roundI2
Plucked a blue harebell from the groundI2
'For me whose memory scarce conveysL2
An image of more splendid daysL2
This little flower that loves the leaU
May well my simple emblem beU
It drinks heaven's dew as blithe as roseL2
That in the King's own garden growsL2
And when I place it in my hairZ
Allan a bard is bound to swearZ
He ne'er saw coronet so fair '-
Then playfully the chaplet wildI2
She wreathed in her dark locks and smiledI2
-
XL2
Her smile her speech with winning swayC
Wiled the old Harper's mood awayC
With such a look as hermits throwJ
When angels stoop to soothe their woeJ
He gazed till fond regret and prideI2
Thrilled to a tear then thus repliedI2
'Loveliest and best thou little know'stI2
The rank the honors thou hast lostI2
O might I live to see thee graceL2
In Scotland's court thy birthright placeL2
To see my favorite's step advanceL2
The lightest in the courtly danceL2
The cause of every gallant's sighA
And leading star of every eyeA
And theme of every minstrel's artI2
The Lady of the Bleeding Heart '-
-
XIU
'Fair dreams are these ' the maiden criedI2
Light was her accent yet she sighedI2
'Yet is this mossy rock to meU
Worth splendid chair and canopyU
Nor would my footstep spring more gayC
In courtly dance than blithe strathspeyU
Nor half so pleased mine ear inclineL
To royal minstrel's lay as thineL
And then for suitors proud and highA
To bend before my conquering eyeA
Thou flattering bard thyself wilt sayC
That grim Sir Roderick owns its swayC
The Saxon scourge Clan Alpine's prideI2
The terror of Loch Lomond's sideI2

Sir Walter Scott



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