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And yet, the sooth to tell,

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, Nor England's fair, nor Frauce's Queen,' (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) Were worth one pearl-drop, bright and sheen, “O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, From Margaret's eyes that fell,-

Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar ??-His own Queen Margaret, who, in Lithgow's bower, All lonely sat, and wept the weary hour.

“ I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ;

Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tideXI.

And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, The Queen sits lone in Lithgow pile,

To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. And weeps the weary day,

There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, The war against her native soil,

That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.” Her Monarch's risk in battle broil:And in gay Holy-Rood, the while,

The bride kiss'd the goblet: the knight took it up, Dame Heron rises with a smile

He quaff”d off the wine, and he threw down the cup. Upon the harp to play.

She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh, Fair was her rounded arm, as o'er

With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. The strings her fingers flew;

He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,-And as she touch'd and tuned them all,

“ Now tread we a measure !” said young Lochinvar. Ever her bosom's rise and fall Was plainer given to view;

So stately his form, and so lovely her face, For, all for heat, was laid aside

That never a hall such a galliard did grace; Her wimple, and her hood untied.?

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And first she pitch'd her voice to sing,

And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and Then glanced her dark eye on the King,

plume; And then around the silent ring;

And the bride-maidens whisper'd,“ 'Twere better by far, And laugh’d, and blush'd, and oft did say

To have match'dour fair cousin with young Lochinvar.” Her pretty oath, by Yea, and Nay, She could not, would not, durst not play!

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, At length, upon the harp, with glee,

When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger Mingled with arcb simplicity,

stood near; A soft, yet lively, air she rung,

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, While thus the wily lady sung:

So light to the saddle before her he sprung!

“ She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and XII.

scaur; LOCHINVAR.:

They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lady Veron's Song.

Lochinvar. O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; There was mounting ʼmong Græmes of the Netherby And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, clan; He rode all unarm’d, and he rode all alone. Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar, There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie Lee,

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone, So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar! But ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late:

XIII. For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,

The Monarch o'er the siren hung Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

And beat the measure as she sung;

And, pressing closer, and more near, So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,

He whisper'd praises in her ear. Among bride’s-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and In loud applause the courtiers vied; all :

And ladies wink'd, and spoke aside.

ran:

1 MS." Nor France's Queen, nor England's fair,

Were worth one pearl-drop, passing rare,

From Margaret's eyes that fell."

& The MS. has oply

“Por, all for heat, was laid aside
Her wimpled hood and gorget's pride:
And on the righted harp with glee,
Mingled with arch simplicity,

A soft, yet lively, air she rang,

While thus her voice attendant sang." 3 The ballad of Lochinvar is in a very slight degree founded on a ballad called “ Katharine Janfarie," which may be found in the “Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," vol. iii.

• See the novel of Redgauntlet, for a detailed picture of some of the extraordinary phenomena of the spring-tides in the Solway Prith.

1

The witching dame to Marmion threw

Iluge-boned, and tall, and grim, and gaunt, A glance, where seem'd to reign

Seem'd o'er the gaudy scene to lower : The pride that claims applauses due,

His locks and beard in silver grew; And of her royal conquest too,

His eyebrows kept their sable hue. A real or feign'd disdain:

Near Douglas when the Monarch stood, Familiar was the look, and told,

His bitter speech he thus pursued : Marmion and she were friends of old.

“ Lord Marmion, since these letters say The King observed their meeting eyes,

That in the North you needs must stay, With something like displeased surprise ;

While slightest hopes of peace remain, For monarchs ill can rivals brook,

Uncourteous speech it were, and stern, Even in a word, or smile, or look.

To say— Return to Lindisfarne, Straight took he forth the parchment broad,

C'ntil my herald come again.Which Marmion's high commission show'd:

Then rest you in Tantallon Kold;' « Our Borders sack'd by many a raid,

Your host shall be the Douglas bold, Our peaceful liege-men robb’d,” he said:

A chief unlike his sires of old. “ On day of truce our Warden slain,

He wears their motto on his blade, 5 Stout Barton kill'd, his vassals ta'en

Their blazon o'er his towers display'd; C'nworthy were we here to reign,

Yet loves his sovereign to oppose, Should these for vengeance cry in vain ;

More than to face his country's foes. Our full defiance, hate, and scorn,

And, I bethink me, by St. Stephen, Our herald has to Henry borne."

But e'en this morn to me was given

A prize, the first fruits of the war,
XIV.

Ta'en by a galley from Dunbar,
He paused, and led where Douglas stood,

A bevy of the maids of Heaven. And with stern eye the pageant view'd :

Under your guard, these holy maids I mean that Douglas, sixth of yore,

Shall safe return to cloister shades, Who coronet of Angus bore,

And, while they at Tantallon stay, And, when his blood and heart were high,

Requiem for Cochran's soul may say." Did the third James in camp defy,

And, with the slaughter'd favourite's name, And all his minions led to die

Across the Monarch's brow there came
On Lauder's dreary flat:

A cloud of ire, remorse and shame.
Princes and favourites long grew tame,
And trembled at the homely name

XVI.
Of Archibald Bell-the-Cat; 2

In answer nought could Angus speak; The same who left the dusky vale

His proud heart swell'd wellnigh to break: Of Hermitage in Liddisdale,

He turn'd aside, and down his cheek Its dungeons, and its towers,

A burning tear there stole. Where Bothwell's turrets brave the air,

His hand the Monarch sudden took, And Bothwell bank is blooning fair,

That sight his kind heart could not brook : To fix his princely bowers.

“ Now, by the Bruce's soul,7 Though now, in age, he had laid down

Angus, my hasty speech forgive! His armour for the peaceful gown,

For sure as doth his spirit live, And for a staff his brand,

As he said of the Douglas old, Yet often would flash forth the fire,

I well may say of you,That could, in youth, a monarch's ire

That never king did subject hold, And minion's pride withstand;

In speech more free, in war more bold, And even that day, at council board,

More tender and more true:3 Unapt to soothe his sovereign's mood,

Forgive me, Douglas, once again.”Against the war had Angus stood,

And, while the king his hand did strain, And chafed his royal lord.3

The old man's tears fell down like rain.

To seize the moment Marmion tried,
XV.

And whisper'd to the King aside:
His giant-form, like ruin'd tower,

“ Oh! let such tears unwonted plead Though fall'n its muscles' brawny vaunt,

For respite short from dubious deed!

I MS.-“ And, when his blood and heart were high,

King James's minions led to die,

On Lauder's dreary flat." 2 Ben-the-Cat, see Appendix, Note 3 T. 3 See Appendix, Note 3 U.

6 MS.--" But yester mom was hither driven.“
7 The next two lines are not in the original MS.

8 “0, Dowglas! Dowglas !
Tendir and trew."

* Ibid, Note 3 V. 6 See Appendix, Note 3 W.

The Houdate,

A child will weep a bramble's smart,
A maid to see her sparrow part,
A stripling for a woman's heart:
But woe awaits a country, when
She sees the tears of bearded men.
Then, oh! what omen, dark and high,
When Douglas wets his manly eye!”

Unwittingly, King James had given,

As guard to Whitby's shades, The man most dreaded under Heaven

By these defenceless maids : Yet what petition could avall, Or who would listen to the tale Of woman, prisoner, and nun, 'Mid bustle of a war begun? They deem'd it hopeless to avoid The convoy of their dangerous guide.

XVII. Displeased was James, that stranger view'd And tamper'd with his changing mood. “ Laugh those that can, weep those that may," Thus did the fiery Monarch say, “Southward I march by break of day; And if within Tantallon strong, The good Lord Marmion tarries long, Perchance our meeting next may fall At Tamworth, in his castle-hall.”— The haughty Marmion felt the taunt, And answer'd, grave, the royal vaunt: “ Much honour'd were my humble home, If in its halls King James should come; But Nottingham has archers good, And Yorkshire men are stern of mood; Northumbrian prickers wild and rude. On Derby Hills the paths are steep; In Ouse and Tyne the fords are deep; And many a banner will be torn, And many a knight to earth be borne, And many a sheaf of arrows spent, Ere Scotland's King shall cross the Trent: Yet pause, brave Prince, while yet you may!"-The Monarch lightly turn'd away, And to his nobles loud did call,“Lords, to the dance,-a hall! a hall !'"9 Himself his cloak and sword flung by, And led Dame Heron gallantly; And minstrels, at the royal order, Rung out—“ Blue Bonnets o'er the Border.”

XIX. l'heir lodging, so the King assign'd, To Marmion’s, as their guardian, join'd; And thus it fell, that, passing nigh, The Palmer caught the Abbess' eye,

Who warn'd him by a scroll, She had a secret to reveal, That much concern'd the Church's weal,

And health of sinner's soul;
And, with deep charge of secrecy,

She named a place to meet,
Within an open balcony,
That hung from dizzy pitch, and high,

Above the stately street;
To which, as common to each home,
At night they might in secret come.

XVIII.
Leave we these revels now, to tell
What to Saint Hilda's maids befell,
Whose galley, as they sail'd again
To Whitby, by a Scot was ta’en.
Now at Dun-Edin did they bide,
Till James should of their fate decide;

And soon, by his command,
Were gently summon’d to prepare
To journey under Marmion's care,
As escort honour'd, safe, and fair,

Again to English land. The Abbess told her chaplet o'er, Nor knew which saint she should implore; For, when she thought of Constance, sore

She fear'd Lord Marmion's mood. And judge what Clara must have felt! The sword, that hung in Marmion's belt, Had drunk De Wilton's blood.

MS.-" A maid to see her love depart."

XX.
At night, in secret, there they came,
The Palmer and the holy Dame.
The moon among the clouds rose high,
And all the city hum was by.
Upon the street, where late before
Did din of war and warriors roar,

You might have heard a pebble fall,
A beetle hum, a cricket sing,
An owlet flap his boding wing

On Giles's steeple tall.
The antique buildings, climbing high,
Whose Gothic frontlets sought the sky,

Were here wrapt deep in shade;
There on their brows the moon-beam

broke, Through the faint wreaths of silvery smoke,

And on the casements play'd.
And other light was none to see,

Save torches gliding far,
Before some chieftain of degree,
Who left the royal revelry

To bowne him for the war.-
A soleion scene the Abbess chose;
A solemn hour, her secret to disclose.

XXI. « O, boly Palmer!" she began,“ For sure he must be sainted man, Whose blessed feet have trod the ground Where the Redeemer's tomb is found,

The ancient cry to make room for a dance, or pageant.

For His dear Church's sake, my tale
Attend, nor deem of light avail,
Though I must speak of worldly love,
How vain to those who wed above !
De Wilton and Lord Marmion wood'
Clara de Clare, of Gloster's blood;
(Idle it were of Whitby's dame,
To say of that same blood I came ;)
And once, when jealous rage was high,
Lord Marmion said despiteously,
Wilton was traitor in his heart,
And had made league with Martin Swart,
When he came here on Simnel's part;
And only cowardice did restrain
His rebel aid on Stokefield's plain,-
And down he threw his glove: - the

thing
Was tried, as wont, before the King;
Where frankly did De Wilton own,
That Swart in Gueldres he had known;
And that between them then there went
Some scroll of courteous compliment.
For this he to his castle sent;
But when his messenger return'd,
Judge how de Wilton's fury burn'd!
For in his packet there was laid
Letters that claim'd disloyal aid,
And proved King Henry's cause betray'd.
His fame, thus blighted, in the field
He strove to clear, by spear and shield ;-
To clear his fame in vain he strove,
For wondrous are His ways above !
Perchance some form was unobserved ;
Perchance in prayer, or faith, he swerved ;s
Else how could guiltless champion quail,
Or how the blessed ordeal fail?

Only one trace of earthly strain,

That for her lover's loss She cherishes a sorrow vain,

And murmurs at the crossAnd then her beritage ;-it goes

Along the banks of Tame; Deep fields of grain the reaper mows, In meadows rich the heifer lows, The falconer and huntsman knows

Its woodlands for the game.
Shame were it to Saint Hilda dear,
And I, her humble vot'ress here,

Should do a deadly sin,
Her temple spoil'd before mine eyes,
If this false Marmion such a prize

By my consent should win ;
Yet hath our boisterous monarch sworn
That Clare shall from our house be torn;
And grierous cause have I to fear,
Such mandate doth Lord Marmion bear.

XXIII.
“ Now, prisoner, helpless, and betray'd
To evil power, I claim thine aid,

By every step that thou hast trod
To holy shrine and grotto dim,
By every martyr's tortured limb,
By angel, saint, and seraphim,

And by the Church of God!
For mark :- When Wilton was betray'd,
And with his squire forged letters laid,
She was, alas! that sinful maid,

By whom the deed was done,0! shame and horror to be said !

She was a perjured nun!
No clerk in all the land, like her,
Traced quaint and varying character.
Perchance you may a marvel deem,

That Marmion's paramour (For such vile thing she was) should scheme

Her lover's nuptial hour;
But o'er him thus she hoped to gain,
As privy to his honour's stain,

Illimitable power:
For this she secretly retain'd

Each proof that might the plot reveal,

Instructions with his hand and seal; And thus Saint Hilda deign'd,

Through sinner's perfidy impure,

Her house's glory to secure, And Clare's immortal weal.

XXII. “ His squire, who now De Wilton saw As recreant doom'd to suffer law,

Repentant, own'd in vain, That, while he had the scrolls in care, A stranger maiden, passing fair, Had drench'd him with a beverage rare;

His words no faith could gain, With Clare alone he credence won, Who, rather than wed Marmion, Did to Saint Hilda's shrine repair, To give our house her livings fair And die a vestal vot 'ress there. The impulse from the earth was given, But bent her to the paths of heaven. A purer heart, a lovelier maid, Ne'er shelter'd her in Whitby's shade, No, not since Saxon Edelfled;

XXIV. “ 'Twere long, and needless, here to tell, How to my hand these papers fell;

1 “There are passages in which the flatness and tedious of this falling off. We select it from the Abbess's explana ness of the narrative is relieved by no sort of beauty nor ele- tion to De Wilton :- De Wilton and Lord Marmion wood, gance of diction, and which form an extraordinary contrast &c. (and twenty-two following lines).", JEFFREY, with the more animated and finished portions of the poem. 2 See Appendix, Note 3 X. We shall not afflict our readers with more than one specimen 3 Ibid, Note 3 Y

6

With me they must not stay.

But indistinct the pageant proud, Saint Hilda keep her Abbess true!

As fancy forms of midnight cloud, Who knows what outrage he might do,

When flings the moon upon her shroud While journeying by the way?

A wavering tinge of flame; 0, blessed Saint, if e'er again

It flits, expands, and shifts, till loud, I venturous leave thy calm domain,

From midmost of the spectre crowd, To travel or by land or main,

This awful summons came:-*
Deep penance may I pay !
Now, saintly Palmer, mark my prayer:

XXVI.
I give this packet to thy care,

« Prince, prelate, potentate, and peer, For thee to stop they will not dare;

Whose names I now shall call, And O! with cautious speed,

Scottish, or foreigner, give ear; To Wolsey's hand the papers bring,

Subjects of him who sent me here, That he may show them to the King:

At his tribunal to appear, And, for thy well-earn'd meed,

I summon one and all: Thou holy man, at Whitby's shrine

I cite you by each deadly sin, A weekly mass shall still be thine,

That e'er hath soild your hearts within : While priests can sing and read.-

I cite you by each brutal lust, What ail’st thou ?-Speak!”-For as he

That e'er defiled your earthly dust, took

By wrath, by pride, by fear, 5 The charge, a strong emotion shook

By each o'er-mastering passion's tone, His frame; and, ere reply,

By the dark grave, and dying groan! They heard a faint, yet shrilly tone,

When forty days are pass’d and gone, Like distant clarion feebly blown,

I cite you, at your Monarch's throne, That on the breeze did die;

To answer and appear.” And loud the Abbess shriek'd in fear,

Then thunder'd forth a roll of names : “ Saint Withold, save us !-What is here!

The first was thine, unhappy James ! Look at yon City Cross ?

Then all thy nobles came; See on its battled tower appear

Crawford, Glencairn, Montrose, Argyle, Phantoms, that scutcheons seem to rear,

Ross, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle,And blazon'd banners toss!”

Why should I tell their separate style;

Each chief of birth and fame,
XXV.

Of Lowland, Highland, Border, Isle,
Dun-Edin's Cross, a pillar'd stone,

Fore-doom'd to Flodden's carnage pile, Rose on a turret octagon;

Was cited there by name; (But now is razed that monument,

And Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye, Whence royal edict rang,

Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye ; And voice of Scotland's law was sent

De Wilton, erst of Aberley, In glorious trumpet-clang.

The self-same thundering voice did say.-7 0! be his tomb as lead to lead,

But then another spoke: L'pon its dull destroyer's head!

Thy fatal summons I deny, A minstrel's malison” is said.3)

And thine infernal Lord defy, Then on its battlements they saw

Appealing me to Him on High, A vision, passing Nature's law,

Who burst the sinner's yoke." Strange, wild, and dimly seen;

At that dread accent, with a scream, Figures that seem'd to rise and die,

Parted the pageant like a dream, Gibber and sign, advance and fly,

The summoner was gone. While nought confirm’d could ear or eye

Prone on her face the Abbess fell, Discern of sound or mien.

And fast, and fast, her beads did tell; Yet darkly did it seem, as there

Her nuns came, startled by the yell, Heralds and Pursuivants prepare,

And found her there alone. With trumpet sound and blazon fair,

She mark'd not, at the scene aghast, A summons to proclaim;

What time, or how, the Palmer pass’d.

1

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IMA-" Dun-Edin's Cross, a pillar'd stone,

Rose on a turret hexagon:
(Dust unto dust, lead unto lead,
On its destroyer's drowsy head :-
Upon its base destroyer's
The Minstrel's malison is said.)"

3 See Appendix, Note 3 Z.
+ See Appendix, Note 4 A.
6 MS.—" By wrath, by fraud, by fear."
6 MS.-" Ere trenty days are pass'd and gone,

Before the mighty Monarch's throne,

I cite you to appear." 7 MS. -" In thundering tone the voice did say."

tj. e. Curse.

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