The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott ... Notes & life of the author.

2S2 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, CANTO L
And withered heath and rushes dry
Supplied a russet canopy.
Due westward fronting to the green,
A rural portico was seen,
Aloft on native pillars borne,
Of mountain fir with bark unshorn,
Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine
The ivy and Idaaan vine,
The clematis, the favoured flower,
Which boasts the name of virgin- bower,
And every hardy plant could bear
Ifoch-Katrine's keen and searching air.
An instant in this porch she staid,
And gaily to the stranger said,'OnHeaven and on thy lady call
And enter the enchanted hall'"
XXVIL
"My hope, my heaven, my trust must be,
My gentle guide, in following thee."
He crossed the threshold-and a clang
Of angry steel that instant rang.
To his bold brow his spirit rushed,
But soon for vain alarm he blushed,
When on the floor he saw displayed,
Cause of the din, a naked blade
Dropped from the sheath, that careless sung,
Upon a stag's huge antlers swung;
For all around, the walls to grace,
Hung trophies of the fight or chase;
A target there, a bugle here,
A battle-axe,a hunting spear,
And broad-swords, bows, and arrows store,
With the tusked trophies of the boar.
Here grins the wolf as when he died,
And there the wild-cat's brindled hide
The frontlet of the elk adorns,
Or mantles o'er the bison's horns;
Pennons and flags defaced and stained,
That blackening streaks of blood retained,
And deer-skinsdappled, dun, and white,
With otter's fur and seal's unite,
In rude and uncouth tapestry all,
To garnish forth the sylvan hall
The wondering stranger round him gazed,
And next the fallen weapon raised.;