The Lord Of The Isles: Canto Iv. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBCCACAA DAEFACACC GHGHHIHII AJJJCCKKLLA AMNOPPOQQRRSSSTUJ AVVUFFUWWMSSMXXX Y ZA2A2ZSSB2C2C2C2B2D2 D2E2E2AFF2 FG2H2A2A2I2J2QQK2K2R RZZL2 M2M2N2N2IIRRN2N2N2 AN2N2AAQQIIN2N2CCQQA AN2N2N2N2CC AO2QJ2QL2CL2L2CQQIN2 N2IP2P2N2N2Q2Q2N2R2R 2N2RRR AN2N2RRS2S2NNJ2J2RN2 N2RT2T2RN2N2QN2N2QU2 U2R2R2RRN2MNMN2CCF2F 2ARRA U2O2CO2CN2IC

IA
Stranger if e'er thine ardent step hath tracedB
The northern realms of ancient CaledonC
Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placedB
By lake and cataract her lonely throneC
Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath knownC
Gazing on pathless glen and mountain highA
Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrownC
Mingle their echoes with the eagle's cryA
And with the sounding lake and with the moaning skyA
-
Yes 'twas sublime but sad The lonelinessD
Loaded thy heart the desert tired thine eyeA
And strange and awful fears began to pressE
Thy bosom with a stern solemnityF
Then hast thou wish'd some woodman's cottage nighA
Something that show'd of life though low and meanC
Glad sight its curling wreath of smoke to spyA
Glad sound its cock's blithe carol would have beenC
Or children whooping wild beneath the willows greenC
-
Such are the scenes where savage grandeur wakesG
An awful thrill that softens into sighsH
Such feelings rouse them by dim Rannoch's lakesG
In dark Glencoe such gloomy raptures riseH
Or farther where beneath the northern skiesH
Chides wild Loch Eribol his caverns hoarI
But be the minstrel judge they yield the prizeH
Of desert dignity to that dread shoreI
That sees grim Coolin rise and hears Coriskin roarI
-
IIA
Through such wild scenes the champion pass'dJ
When bold halloo and bugle blastJ
Upon the breeze came loud and fastJ
'There ' said the Bruce 'rung Edward's hornC
What can have caused such brief returnC
And see brave Ronald see him dartK
O'er stock and stone like hunted hartK
Precipitate as is the useL
In war or sport or Edward BruceL
He marks us and his eager cryA
Will tell his news ere he be nigh '-
-
IIIA
Loud Edward shouts 'What make ye hereM
Warring upon the mountain deerN
When Scotland wants her KingO
A bark from Lennox cross'd our trackP
With her in speed I hurried backP
These joyful news to bringO
The Stuart stirs in TeviotdaleQ
And Douglas wakes his native valeQ
Thy storm toss'd fleet hath won its wayR
With little loss to Brodick BayR
And Lennox with a gallant bandS
Waits but thy coming and commandS
To waft them o'er to Carrick strandS
There are blithe news but mark the closeT
Edward the deadliest of our foesU
As with his host he northward pass'dJ
Hath on the borders breathed his last '-
-
IVA
Still stood the Bruce his steady cheekV
Was little wont his joy to speakV
But then his colour roseU
'Now Scotland shortly shalt thou seeF
With God's high will thy children freeF
And vengeance on thy foesU
Yet to no sense of selfish wrongsW
Bear witness with me Heaven belongsW
My joy o'er Edward's bierM
I took my knighthood at his handS
And lordship held of him and landS
And well may vouch it hereM
That blot the story from his pageX
Of Scotland ruin'd in his rageX
You read a monarch brave and sageX
And to his people dear '-
'Let London's burghers mourn her LordY
And Croydon monks his praise record '-
The eager Edward saidZ
'Eternal as his own my hateA2
Surmounts the bounds of mortal fateA2
And dies not with the deadZ
Such hate was his on Solway's strandS
That pointed yet to Scotland's landS
As his last accents pray'dB2
Disgrace and curse upon his heirC2
If he one Scottish head should spareC2
Till stretch'd upon the bloody lairC2
Each rebel corpse was laidB2
Such hate was his when his last breathD2
Renounced the peaceful house of deathD2
And bade his bones to Scotland's coastE2
Be borne by his remorseless hostE2
As if his dead and stony eyeA
Could still enjoy her miseryF
Such hate was his dark deadly longF2
Mine as enduring deep and strong '-
-
VF
'Let women Edward war with wordsG2
With curses monks but men with swordsH2
Nor doubt of living foes to sateA2
Deepest revenge and deadliest hateA2
Now to the sea Behold the beachI2
And see the galleys' pendants stretchJ2
Their fluttering length down favouring galeQ
Aboard aboard and hoist the sailQ
Hold we our way for Arran firstK2
Where meet in arms our friends dispersedK2
Lennox the loyal De la HayeR
And Boyd the bold in battle frayR
I long the hardy band to headZ
And see once more my standard spreadZ
Does noble Ronald share our courseL2
Or stay to raise his island force '-
'Come weal come woe by Bruce's side '-
Replied the Chief 'will Ronald bideM2
And since two galleys yonder rideM2
Be mine so please my liege dismiss'dN2
To wake the arms the clans of UistN2
And all who hear the Minche's roarI
On the Long Island's lonely shoreI
The nearer Isles with slight delayR
Ourselves may summon in our wayR
And soon on Arran's shore shall meetN2
With Torquil's aid a gallant fleetN2
If aught avails their Chieftain's hestN2
Among the islemen of the west '-
-
VIA
Thus was their venturous council saidN2
But ere their sails the galleys spreadN2
Coriskin dark and Coolin highA
Echoed the dirge's doleful cryA
Along that sable lake pass'd slowQ
Fit scene for such a sight of woeQ
The sorrowing islesmen as they boreI
The murder'd Allan to the shoreI
At every pause with dismal shoutN2
Their coronach of grief rung outN2
And ever when they moved againC
The pipes resumed their clamorous strainC
And with the pibroch's shrilling wailQ
Mourn'd the young heir of DonagaileQ
Round and around from cliff and caveA
His answer stern old Coolin gaveA
Till high upon his misty sideN2
Languish'd the mournful notes and diedN2
For never sounds by mortal madeN2
Attain'd his high and haggard headN2
That echoes but the tempest's moanC
Or the deep thunder's rending groanC
-
VIIA
Merrily merrily bounds the barkO2
She bounds before the galeQ
The mountain breeze from Ben na darchJ2
Is joyous in her sailQ
With fluttering sound like laughter hoarseL2
The cords and canvas strainC
The waves divided by her forceL2
In rippling eddies chased her courseL2
As if they laugh'd againC
Not down the breeze more blithely flewQ
Skimming the wave the light sea mewQ
Than the gay galley boreI
Her course upon that favouring windN2
And Coolin's crest has sunk behindN2
And Slapin's cavern'd shoreI
'Twas then that warlike signals wakeP2
Dunscaith's dark towers and Eisord's lakeP2
And soon from Cavilgarrigh's headN2
Thick wreaths of eddying smoke were spreadN2
A summons these of war and wrathQ2
To the brave clans of Sleat and StrathQ2
And ready at the sightN2
Each warrior to his weapons sprungR2
And targe upon his shoulder flungR2
Impatient for the fightN2
Mac Kinnon's chief in warfare greyR
Had charge to muster their arrayR
And guide their barks to Brodick BayR
-
VIIIA
Signal of Ronald's high commandN2
A beacon gleam'd o'er sea and landN2
From Canna's tower that steep and grayR
Like falcon nest o'erhangs the bayR
Seek not the giddy crag to climbS2
To view the turret scathed by timeS2
It is a task of doubt and fearN
To aught but goat or mountain deerN
But rest thee on the silver beachJ2
And let the aged herdsman teachJ2
His tale of former dayR
His cur's wild clamour he shall chideN2
And for thy seat by ocean's sideN2
His varied plaid displayR
Then tell how with their Chieftain cameT2
In ancient times a foreign dameT2
To yonder turret greyR
Stern was her Lord's suspicious mindN2
Who in so rude a jail confinedN2
So soft and fair a thrallQ
And oft when moon on ocean sleptN2
That lovely lady sate and weptN2
Upon the castle wallQ
And turn'd her eye to southern climesU2
And thought perchance of happier timesU2
And touch'd her lute by fits and sungR2
Wild ditties in her native tongueR2
And still when on the cliff and bayR
Placid and pale the moonbeams playR
And every breeze is muteN2
Upon the lone Hebridean's earM
Steals a strange pleasure mix'd with fearN
While from that cliff he seems to hearM
The murmur of a luteN2
And sounds as of a captive loneC
That mourns her woes in tongue unknownC
Strange is the tale but all too longF2
Already hath it staid the songF2
Yet who may pass them byA
That crag and tower in ruins greyR
Nor to their hapless tenant payR
The tribute of a sighA
-
IXU2
Merrily merrily bounds the barkO2
O'er the broad ocean drivenC
Her path by Ronin's mountains darkO2
The steerman's hand hath givenC
And Ronin's mountains dark have sentN2
Their hunters to the shoreI
And each his ashenC

Sir Walter Scott



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