This page has been validated.
104
THE LADY OF THE LAKE.
CANTO III.
But locked her secret in her breast,
And died in travail, unconfessed.
And died in travail, unconfessed.
VI.
Alone, among his young compeers,
Was Brian from his infant years;
A moody and heart-broken boy,
Estranged from sympathy and joy,
Bearing each taunt which careless tongue
On his mysterious lineage flung.
Whole nights he spent by moon-light pale,
To wood and stream his hap to wail,
Till, frantic, he as truth received
What of his birth the crowd believed,
And sought, in mist and meteor fire,
To meet and know his Phantom sire!
In vain, to sooth his wayward fate,
The cloister oped her pitying gate;
In vain, the earning of the age
Unclasped he sable-lettered page;
Alone, among his young compeers,
Was Brian from his infant years;
A moody and heart-broken boy,
Estranged from sympathy and joy,
Bearing each taunt which careless tongue
On his mysterious lineage flung.
Whole nights he spent by moon-light pale,
To wood and stream his hap to wail,
Till, frantic, he as truth received
What of his birth the crowd believed,
And sought, in mist and meteor fire,
To meet and know his Phantom sire!
In vain, to sooth his wayward fate,
The cloister oped her pitying gate;
In vain, the earning of the age
Unclasped he sable-lettered page;
