Delightful praise!--like summer rose, That brighter in the dew-drop glows, The bashful maiden's cheek appeared, For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard.
The flush of shame-faced joy to hide, The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide;The loved caresses of the maid The dogs with crouch and whimper paid;And, at her whistle, on her hand The falcon took his favorite stand, Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye, Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly.
And, trust, while in such guise she stood, Like fabled Goddess of the wood, That if a father's partial thought O'erweighed her worth and beauty aught, Well might the lover's judgment fail To balance with a juster scale;For with each secret glance he stole, The fond enthusiast sent his soul.
