...no more, days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall hands unseen thy couch are strewing, fairy strains of music fall, every sense...at the day-break from the fallow, and the bittern sound his drum .booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, guards nor warders...

...breaking; Dream of battle-fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber...At the day-break from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders...

...danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch arc .-•; n .•...-, Fairy strains of music fall. Every sense in slumber...summon here Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. • A Highland air, salted to the particular piuslon which the :..-•: v wuuld extitr or wauage. —...

...sleep that knows not breaking Mom of toil, nor night of waking. " No rude sound shall reach thine car, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing, Trump nor pibroch...At the day-break from the fallow. And the bittern sound his drum. Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near. Guards nor warders...

...no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense...dewing. Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting-fields no more í Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking....

...no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense...dewing. Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting-fields no more: Sleep the sleep that knows not brcil Morn of toil, nor night of waking. "...

...no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense...come At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, XXXII. She paused — then, blushing, led the lay To grace the stranger of the day...

...no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense...here Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. Yet the lark s shrill fife may come, At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming...

...no more. Days of danger, night« of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands nnseen thy conch are strewing. Fairy strains of music fall. Every sense...; Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toll, nor night of waking. " No rude sound shall reach thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing,...

...no more, Days of danger, nights of wakmg. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense...dewing. Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting-fields no more: Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking....