19 



tifully described in the second canto of Sir Walter 

 Scott's " Marmion." 



"Lone St. Mary's silent lake. 



Nor fen nor sedge 



Pollute the pure lake's crystal edge. 

 Abrupt and sheer the mountains sink 

 At once upon the level brink ; 

 And just a trace of silver sand 

 Marks where the waters meet the land, 

 For in the mirror bright and blue 

 Each hill's huge outline you may view, 

 Shaggy with heath but lonely bare ; 

 Nor tree, nor bush, nor brake is there, 

 Save where of land yon slender line 

 Bears 'thwart the lake the scattered pine. 

 Yet even this nakedness has power, 

 And aids the feelings of the hour ; 

 Nor thicket, dell, nor copse you spy, 

 Where living thing concealed might lie. 

 There's nothing left to fancy's guess : 

 You see that all is loneliness. 

 And silence aids : though the steep hills 

 Send to the lake a thousand rills, 

 In summer-tide so soft they weep 

 The sound but lulls the ear asleep ; 

 Your horse's hoof- tread sounds too rude, 

 So stilly is the solitude." 



This loch is about three miles in length, and, in 

 some places, nearly a mile in breadth. The upper 

 loch which joins it is called the Loch of the Lowes. 

 It is about a mile in length, and is joined to St. 

 Mary's by a narrow stream of a few feet in width. 

 Both waters are well stocked with good- sized trout. 

 Bull trout have occasionally been caught of great 



