XXIV. "O swiftly can speed my dapple-grey steed, Ere break of day," the Warrior 'gan say, Again will I be here: And safer by none may thy errand be done. Letter nor line know I never a one, Soon in his saddle sate he fast, And cross'd old Borthwick's roaring strand XXVI. The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark ;--- He turn'd him now from Teviotside, And gained the moor at Horsliehill; XXVII. A moment now he slack'd his speed, a Barbican, the defence of an outer gate of a feudal castle Peel, a Border tower. An ancient Roman road, crossing through part of Roxburghshire. Cliffs, which, for many a later year, XXVIII. Unchallenged, thence pass'd Deloraine, Where Aill, from mountains freed, XXIX. At the first plunge the horse sunk low, Scarce half the charger's neck was seen; Stemm'd a midnight torrent's force. Was daggled by the dashing spray; Yet, through good heart, and Our Ladye's grace, At length he gain'd the landing place. XXX. Now Bowden Moor the march-man won, And sternly shook his plumed head, As glanced his eye o'er Halidon; For on his soul the slaughter red Of that unhallow'd morn arose, When first the Scott and Carr were foes XXXI. In bitter mood he spurred fast, When Hawick he pass'd, had curfew rung, Now midnight lauds were in Melrose sung. ▲ Barded, or barbed,--applied to a horse accoutred with defensive armour An ancient seat of the Kerrs of Cessford, now demolished. Lands, the midnight service of the Catholic Church The sound, upon the fitful gale, Like that wild harp, whose magic tone Is waken'd by the winds alone. But when Melrose he reach'd, 'twas silence all; He meetly stabled his steed in stall, And sought the convent's lonely wall. 10 Here paused the harp; and with its swell His hand was true, his voice was clear, CANTO SECOND. I. if thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, For the gay beams of lightsome day When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die; When distant Tweed is heard to rave, And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, Then go but go alone the while Then view St David's ruin'd pile;" II. Short halt did Deloraine make there; "Who knocks so loud, and knocks so late?" Had gifted the shrine for their souls' repose. III. Bold Deloraine his errand said; IV. The Ladye of Branksome greets thee by me; And that to-night I shall watch with thee, V. And strangely on the knight look'd he, And his blue eyes gleam'd wild and wide "And darest thou, Warrior! seek to see What heaven and hell alike would hide? My breast, in belt of iron pent, With shirt of hair and scourge of thorn; For threescore years, in penance spent, My knees those flinty stones have worn; For knowing what should ne'er be known. In ceaseless prayer and penance drie, Penance, father, will I none; Prayer know I hardly one; a dventayle, visor of the helmet. For mass or prayer can I rarely tarry, When I ride on a Border foray. Other prayer can I none; So speed me my errand, and let me be gone."- VII. Again on the Knight look'd the Churchman old, For he had himself been a warrior bold, And fought in Spain and Italy. And he thought on the days that were long since by, Now, slow and faint, he led the way, The pillar'd arches were over their head, And beneath their feet were the bones of the dead. VIII. Spreading herbs, and flowerets bright, Nor herb, nor floweret, glisten'd there, But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair. The youth in glittering squadrons start; And hurl the unexpected dart. He knew, by the streamers that shot so bright, IX. By a steel-clenched postern door, They enter'd now the chancel tall; The darken'd roof rose high aloof On pillars lofty and light and small: The key-stone, that lock'd each ribbed aisle, The corbells were carved grotesque and grim; And the pillars, with cluster'd shafts so trim, With base and with capital flourish'd around, Seem'd bundles of lances which garlands had bound. X. Full many a scutcheon and banner riven, a Corbells, the projections from which the arches spring, usually cut in a fantastic face, or mask. |