THE
MOODY
SEER
,
A
BALLAD
.
"
THE
sun
shines
in
a
cloudless
sky
,
The
lake
is
blue
and
still
;
Up
,
Flora
!
on
thine
errand
hie
,
And
climb
the
eyrie
hill
;
"
And
tell
my
ancient
kinsman
there
To
leave
his
lonely
tower
,
And
at
our
yearly
feast
to
share
The
merry
social
hour
.
"
"
Oh
mother
!
do
not
bid
me
go
;
I
scarce
can
draw
my
breath
,
When
I
see
his
eyes
move
to
and
fro
,
His
lowering
brows
beneath
;
"
His
moving
lips
,
that
give
no
sound
My
very
spirits
quell
,
When
he
stares
upon
the
harmless
ground
As
'twere
the
mouth
of
hell
.
"
"
Fy
,
foolish
child
!
—
on
such
a
day
Aught
ill
thou
need'st
not
fear
,
And
thy
cousin
Malcom
will
the
way
With
tale
or
ballad
cheer
.
"
The
maiden
blushed
and
turned
her
head
,
And
saw
young
Malcom
near
,
And
she
thought
no
more
of
scathe
or
dread
,
Or
the
looks
of
the
moody
Seer
.
And
now
,
bound
for
the
mountain
hold
,
The
youthful
pair
are
seen
,
He
like
a
stripling
frank
and
bold
,
She
like
a
fairy
queen
.
With
merry
songs
and
merry
talk
The
long
way
cheated
he
,
And
plucked
her
blue-bells
from
the
stalk
,
And
blossoms
from
the
tree
.
Time
(
how
they
wist
not
)
swiftly
ran
,
Till
scarcely
half
a
rood
From
the
opening
gate
of
the
gifted
man
With
beating
hearts
they
stood
.
Then
issued
from
that
creaking
gate
A
figure
bent
and
spare
,
In
checkered
garb
of
ancient
state
,
With
grizzled
,
shaggy
hair
.
By
motion
,
look
and
mien
,
he
seemed
Of
gentle
pedigree
,
Well
struck
with
years
,
you
might
have
deemed
,
But
more
with
misery
.
He
raised
his
face
to
the
youthful
pair
,
Grammercie
!
can
it
be
?
There
passeth
a
glance
of
pleasure
there
And
a
smile
of
courtesy
.
"
My
cousin's
daughter
near
my
hold
!
Some
message
kind
,
I
trow
.
But
no
,
fair
maid
,
I
am
too
old
To
mix
in
revels
now
.
"
And
who
is
this
so
gay
and
young
?
—
No
no
!
thou
need'st
not
tell
;
His
mother
is
from
Garelace
sprung
,
His
sire
from
bold
Glenfell
.
"
His
mother's
smile
is
on
his
face
,
His
father's
form
I
see
,
Those
well-knit
limbs
of
active
grace
,
Those
feet
—
it
cannot
be
!
Out
out
!
mine
eyes
see
falsely
!
tossed
And
drifted
by
the
wind
,
Some
beldame's
kerchief
hath
been
lost
,
And
round
his
brogues
hath
twined
.
"
Thus
muttering
low
,
with
voice
unsweet
,
He
turned
his
face
aside
,
And
hastily
snatched
at
Malcom's
feet
,
But
the
close-clutched
palm
was
void
.
When
a
person
,
gifted
with
the
second
sight
,
sees
a
person
who
is
to
die
within
a
year
,
he
perceives
the
shroud
covering
his
feet
;
as
the
time
becomes
less
distant
,
it
appears
to
cover
his
body
higher
,
and
if
the
death
is
close
at
hand
,
it
covers
his
shoulders
or
his
head
.
In
short
,
the
shroud
rises
gradually
higher
upon
the
body
as
the
time
for
death
approaches
.
"
Why
gropest
thou
with
thy
trembling
hand
?
Think'st
thou
my
feet
are
bound
?
Let
loose
thy
house-guard
,
famous
Brand
,
And
I'll
out-run
the
hound
.
"
"
Ah
!
swiftest
race
is
soonest
o'er
,
Like
stream
of
the
mountain
brook
:
Go
home
,
and
con
some
sober
lore
,
Betake
thee
to
bead
and
book
.
"
"
Yes
,
I
will
pray
to
Mary
mild
,
And
my
first
request
shall
be
,
That
from
all
fancies
grim
and
wild
,
Thou
mayst
delivered
be
.
"
Then
anger
tinged
the
maid's
round
cheek
—
"
Come
,
Malcom
,
come
away
!
When
Hallow-e'en
blows
chill
and
bleak
,
Macvorely
will
join
our
play
.
"
"
When
Hallow-e'en
blows
bleak
and
chill
An
old
man's
seat
prepare
,
For
if
life
and
strength
be
in
him
still
,
Macvorely
will
be
there
.
"
The
old
man
sighed
,
as
down
the
hill
They
took
their
homeward
way
,
And
he
heard
afar
so
loud
and
shrill
Young
Malcom's
joyous
lay
.
'Tis
Hallow-e'en
in
Flora's
home
,
Bright
shines
the
fir-wood
flame
;
From
distant
halls
and
holds
are
come
Maid
,
youngster
,
laird
and
dame
.
Their
friets
Friets
,
superstitious
spells
.
are
tried
true-love
to
prove
—
Friets
taught
by
warlock
lore
,
And
mingled
lovers
gladly
move
Upon
the
crowded
floor
.
And
flaming
nuts
are
keenly
watched
By
many
a
youthful
eye
,
And
colworts
,
from
the
dark
mould
snatched
,
Are
borne
triumphantly
.
Then
gay
strathspeys
are
featly
danced
To
the
pibroch's
gallant
sound
,
While
the
sighted
man
,
like
one
entranced
,
In
the
honoured
chair
is
found
.
But
who
comes
now
so
buoyantly
,
In
flaunting
kirtle
dressed
,
Who
snaps
her
fingers
,
capers
high
,
And
foots
it
with
the
best
?
She
leaps
and
crosses
,
wheels
and
turns
,
Like
mawkin
on
the
lea
,
Till
every
kindred
bosom
burns
Such
joyous
sight
to
see
.
Her
dark
eyes
gleamed
,
and
her
ribands
streamed
,
And
bells
and
bracelets
rung
,
And
the
charmed
rout
raised
a
joyous
shout
As
her
arms
aloft
she
flung
.
Out
spoke
a
bachelor
,
Glenore
,
Of
threescore
years
and
ten
,
And
well
respected
heretofore
By
prudent
,
wary
men
:
"
O
were
I
now
as
I
have
been
(
Vain
wish
!
alas
how
vain
!
)
I
would
plight
my
faith
to
that
winsome
queen
,
And
with
my
freedom
twain
.
"
But
naught
cared
she
for
laugh
or
shout
And
cheers
from
every
tongue
;
She
circled
in
,
and
she
circled
out
,
Through
all
the
yielding
throng
,
Until
before
the
honoured
chair
With
sliding
step
she
came
,
And
dropped
a
sober
curtsey
there
To
the
Seer
of
eldrich
fame
.
But
ah
!
how
different
is
his
face
From
those
so
blithe
and
boon
!
Tears
down
his
cheeks
the
big
tears
chase
,
Like
thunder-drops
in
June
.
"
Nay
,
weep
not
,
kind
though
hapless
Seer
;
Forgive
my
foolish
glee
,
That
,
flaunting
thus
in
woman's
gear
,
Thought
to
deceive
even
thee
.
"
I've
danced
before
thee
,
vain
and
proud
,
In
crimson
kirtle
drest
.
"
"
Thou'st
danced
before
me
in
a
shroud
,
Raised
midway
to
thy
breast
.
"
Dull
grew
the
sound
of
the
crowded
hall
,
Yet
Malcom
danced
again
,
And
did
for
rousing
pibrochs
call
,
But
pipers
piped
in
vain
.
Before
the
early
cock
had
crowed
,
Withdrawn
was
every
guest
;
Ere
on
high
Ben
a
sun-beam
glowed
,
All
were
retired
to
rest
.
A
goodly
ship
at
anchor
rides
,
With
freight
of
British
store
,
And
a
little
boat
from
her
shadow
glides
,
Swift
nearing
to
the
shore
.
And
,
on
that
shore
,
kind
hearts
and
true
,
Small
groups
of
kinsfolk
stand
,
To
bid
a
much-loved
youth
adieu
,
Who
quits
his
native
land
.
There
Flora
and
her
mother
dear
Heave
many
a
heavy
sigh
,
And
by
them
is
the
moody
Seer
,
With
red
and
lowering
eye
.
"
Weep
not
,
dear
aunt
!
"
says
the
parting
wight
,
"
Weep
not
,
my
play-mate
sweet
!
Hope
beckons
me
to
fortune
bright
,
And
we
again
shall
meet
.
"
And
,
good
Macvorely
,
send
me
hence
With
thy
blessing
;
on
me
pour
Some
muttered
spell
of
sure
defence
,
When
wild
waves
round
me
roar
.
"
This
band
that
round
my
neck
is
tied
,
Is
the
gift
of
a
maiden
dear
,
Fenced
with
thy
potent
spell
beside
,
What
danger
need
I
fear
?
"
"
I
see
no
band
around
thy
neck
,
But
the
white
shroud
gathered
high
:
Yon
breakers
rage
,
and
a
stranded
wreck
Doth
on
the
dark
rocks
lie
.
"
A
solemn
requiem
for
the
dead
Is
the
gift
I
will
give
to
thee
;
O
that
,
to
save
thee
,
in
thy
stead
,
The
same
were
sung
for
me
!
"
Yet
still
the
youth
,
with
parting
cheer
,
Extends
to
all
his
hand
;
Embraces
those
who
are
most
dear
,
And
hastens
from
the
land
.
His
form
reflected
on
the
wave
,
As
the
lessening
boat
withdrew
,
Of
that
joyous
youth
,
so
boon
and
brave
,
Was
their
last
heart-moving
view
.
In
Flora's
home
the
midnight
blast
Rose
with
a
wailing
moan
,
And
all
had
to
their
chambers
past
,
And
the
maiden
sat
alone
.
She
thought
of
the
seaman's
perilous
case
As
the
loud
gust
went
and
came
,
And
she
gazed
on
the
fire
with
a
woeful
face
And
watched
the
flickering
flame
.
The
flickering
flame
burnt
dull
and
blue
,
And
the
icy
chill
of
fear
Passed
o'er
her
head
;
then
well
she
knew
Some
ghastly
thing
was
near
.
She
turned
her
head
the
room
to
scan
,
To
wot
if
aught
was
there
;
And
she
saw
a
figure
wet
and
wan
Three
paces
from
her
chair
.
Fixed
were
the
eyes
of
its
pallid
face
,
Like
those
who
walk
in
sleep
,
And
she
started
up
and
prayed
for
grace
With
a
voice
suppressed
and
deep
.
Then
gazing
on
that
face
,
at
length
,
She
knew
the
features
dear
;
She
spoke
,
—
affection
lent
her
strength
,
"
Malcom
,
how
cam'st
thou
here
?
"
"
How
spirits
travel
,
dear
,
dear
maid
!
No
living
wight
may
know
,
But
far
from
hence
my
corse
is
laid
,
The
deep
green
waves
below
.
"
"
O
Malcom
say
,
in
this
world
of
care
Is
there
aught
I
can
do
for
thee
?
"
"
When
thou
bendest
thy
knees
in
humble
prayer
,
My
Flora
,
pray
for
me
;
"
And
let
my
kinsfolk
know
the
fate
Of
one
so
young
and
vain
.
And
now
farewell
,
till
time's
last
date
,
When
we
shall
meet
again
.
"
The
figure
faded
from
her
sight
,
And
the
angry
tempest
fell
,
And
she
heard
through
the
stilly
air
of
night
A
distant
passing
bell
.