Until the mountain-maiden showed A clambering unsuspected road, Where weeping birch and willow round Some chief had framed a rustic bower. XXVI. It was a lodge of ample size, But strange of structure and device; Of such materials, as around The workman's hand had readiest found. Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, And by the hatchet rudely squared, To give the walls their destined height, The sturdy oak and ash unite; While moss and clay and leaves combined To fence each crevice from the wind. The lighter pine-trees, over-head, Their slender length for rafters spread, Due westward, fronting to the green, Aloft on native pillars borne, Of mountain fir with bark unshorn, Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine The clematis, the favoured flower, 11 66 XXVII. My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, Dropped from the sheath, that careless flung A battle-axe, a hunting spear, And broad-swords, bows, and arrows store, E The frontlet of the elk adorns, Or mantles o'er the bison's horns; Pennons and flags defaced and stained, With otter's fur and seal's unite, To garnish forth the sylvan hall. XXVIII. The wondering stranger round him gazed, And next the fallen weapon raised; Few were the arms whose sinewy strength Sufficed to stretch it forth at length. And as the brand he poised and swayed, "I never knew but one," he said, "Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield A blade like this in battle field." She sighed, then smiled and took the word; "You see the guardian champion's sword: As light it trembles in his hand, My sire's tall form might grace the part But in the absent giant's hold Are women now, and menials old." XXIX. The mistress of the mansion came, To whom, though more than kindred knew, Young Ellen gave a mother's due. Meet welcome to her guest she made, And every courteous rite was paid, Though all unasked his birth and name. That fellest foe might join the feast, |