"THE window of a turret, which projected at an angle with the wall, and thus came to be very near Lovel's apartment, was half open, and from that quarter he heard again the same music which had probably broken short his dream. With its visionary character it had lost much of its charms-it was now nothing more than an air on the harpsicord, tolerably well performed-such is the caprice of imagination as affecting the fine arts. A female voice sung, with some taste and great simplicity, something between a song and a hymn, in words to the following effect :"—

"WHY sit'st thou by that ruin'd hall, Thou aged carle so stern and grey?

Dost thou its former pride recal,

Or ponder how it pass'd away?"—

"Know'st thou not me?" the Deep Voice cried; "So long enjoy'd, so oft misused— Alternate, in thy fickle pride,

Desired, neglected, and accused!

"Before my breath, like blazing flax, Man and his marvels pass away!

And changing empires wane and wax, Are founded, flourish, and decay.

(3.)-ELSPETH'S BALLAD.

"As the Antiquary lifted the latch of the hut, he was surprised to hear the shrill tremulous voice of Elspeth chanting forth an old ballad in a wild and doleful recitative:”—

THE herring loves the merry moon-light,
The mackerel loves the wind,
But the oyster loves the dredging sang,
For they come of a gentle kind.

Now haud your tongue, baith wife and carle,
And listen great and sma',

And I will sing of Glenallan's Earl
That fought on the red Harlaw.

The cronach's cried on Bennachie,
And doun the Don and a',

And hieland and lawland may mournfu' be
For the sair field of Harlaw.-

They saddled a hundred milk-white steeds,
They hae bridled a hundred black,
With a chafron of steel on each horse's head,
And a good knight upon his back.

They hadna ridden a mile, a mile,

A mile, but barely ten,

Duke, now Emperor of Russia, was a personal friend of Sir

2T

When Donald came branking down the brae Wi' twenty thousand men.

Their tartans they were waving wide, Their glaives were glancing clear, The pibrochs rung frae side to side, Would deafen ye to hear.

The great Earl in his stirrups stood,

That Highland host to see:

"Now here a knight that 's stout and good May prove a jeopardie:

"What would'st thou do, my squire so gay,
That rides beside my reyne,-
Were ye Glenallan's Earl the day,
And I were Roland Cheyne?

"To turn the rein were sin and shame,
To fight were wond'rous peril,-
What would ye do now, Roland Cheyne,
Were ye Glenallan's Earl?"-

"Were I Glenallan's Earl this tide,
And ye were Roland Cheyne,
The spear should be in my horse's side,
And the bridle upon his mane.

"If they hae twenty thousand blades,
And we twice ten times ten,
Yet they hae but their tartan plaids,
And we are mail-clad men.

"My horse shall ride through ranks sae rude,
As through the moorland fern,-
Then ne'er let the gentle Norman blude
Grow cauld for Highland kerne."

He turn'd him right and round again,
Said, Scorn na at my mither;
Light loves I may get mony a ane,
But minnie ne'er anither.

Chap. xl.

MOTTOES IN THE ANTIQUARY.

"THE scraps of poetry which have been in most cases tacked to the beginning of chapters in these Novels, are sometimes quoted either from reading or from memory, but, in the general case, are pure invention. I found it too troublesome to turn to the collection of the British Poets to discover apposite mottoes, and, in the situation of the theatrical mechanist, who, when the white paper which represented his shower of snow was exhausted, continued the shower by snowing brown, I drew on my memory as long as I could, and when that