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I found many misprints andcorruptions in all except the edition of 1821, and a few even inthat. 217 Scott wrote "Found in each cliff anarrow bower," and it is so printed in the first edition; but inevery other that I have seen "cliff" appears in place ofclift,, to the manifest injury of the passage. 685, everyedition that I have seen since that of 1821 has "I meant not allmy heart might say," which is worse than nonsense, the correctreading being "my heat." In vi. reads "torches ray" and supply;"corrected in the Errata to read as in the text. The following is a lamentation of this kind, literally translatedfrom the Gaelic, to some of the ideas of which the text standsindebted. '"The coronach has for some years past been suspended at funeralsby the use of the bagpipe; and that also is, like many other Highland peculiarities, falling into disuse, unless in remotedistricts."370. As Taylor remarks, the metre of thisdirge seems to be amphibrachic; that is, made up of feet, ormetrical divisions, of three syllables, the second of which isaccented.

With boughs that quaked at every breath, Gray birch and aspen wept beneath; Aloft, the ash and warrior oak Cast anchor in the rifted rock; And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung His shattered trunk, and frequent flung, Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high, His boughs athwart the narrowed sky. Tennyson's Bugle Song: "O sweet and far, from cliff and scar;"and in the Idyls of the King: "shingly scaur."314. Thou track'st not now the stricken doe, Nor maiden coy through greenwood bough."322. "The description ofthe starting of the Fiery Cross bears more marks of labor thanmost of Mr. The text of the poem has given me unexpected trouble. 73:"Thus fade thy helps, and thus thy cumbers spring;" and Sir John Harrington, Epigrams, i. Formerly Head Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. Osgood's beautiful illustrated edition of The Lady of the Lake, I asked him to let me use some of the cutsin a cheaper annotated edition for school and household use; andthe present volume is the result. Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed, Fast on his flying traces came, And all but won that desperate game; For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch, Vindictive toiled the bloodhounds stanch; Nor nearer might the dogs attain, Nor farther might the quarry strain Thus up the margin of the lake, Between the precipice and brake, O'er stock and rock their race they take. The Hunter marked that mountain high, The lone lake's western boundary, And deemed the stag must turn to bay, Where that huge rampart barred the way; Already glorying in the prize, Measured his antlers with his eyes; For the death-wound and death-halloo Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew:--But thundering as he came prepared, With ready arm and weapon bared, The wily quarry shunned the shock, And turned him from the opposing rock; Then, dashing down a darksome glen, Soon lost to hound and Hunter's ken, In the deep Trosachs' wildest nook His solitary refuge took. Milton, Comus, 313: "And everybosky bourn from side to side;" Shakespeare, Temp. There, while close couched the thicket shed Cold dews and wild flowers on his head, He heard the baffled dogs in vain Rave through the hollow pass amain, Chiding the rocks that yelled again. Close on the hounds the Hunter came, To cheer them on the vanished game; But, stumbling in the rugged dell, The gallant horse exhausted fell.