Chapter 6

The wild rose, eglantine, and broom Wasted around their rich perfume; The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm; The aspens slept beneath the calm; The silver light, with quivering glance, Played on the water's still expanse,-- Wild were the heart whose passion's sway Could rage beneath the sober ray! He felt its calm, that warrior guest, While thus he communed with his breast:-- 'Why is it, at each turn I trace Some memory of that exiled race? Can I not mount…