To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.

II.

O Caledonia! stern and wild,'
Meet nurse for a poetic child!

Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood,
Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band,

That knits me to thy rugged strand!
Still, as I view each well-known scene,
Think what is now, and what hath been,
Seems as, to me, of all bereft,

Sole friends thy woods and streams were left;

And thus I love them better still,
Even in extremity of ill.

By Yarrow's streams still let me stray,
Though none should guide my feeble way;
Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break,
Although it chill my wither'd cheek ;2
Still lay my head by Teviot Stone,3
Though there, forgotten and alone,
The Bard may draw his parting groan.

III.

Not scorn'd like me! to Branksome Hall
The Minstrels came, at festive call;
Trooping they came, from near and far,
The jovial priests of mirth and war;
Alike for feast and fight prepared,
Battle and banquet both they shared.
Of late, before each martial clan,
They blew their death-note in the van,
But now, for every merry mate,
Rose the portcullis' iron grate;

They sound the pipe, they strike the string,
They dance, they revel, and they sing,
Till the rude turrets shake and ring.

IV.

Me lists not at this tide declare

The splendour of the spousal rite,

How muster'd in the chapel fair

Both maid and matron, squire and
knight;

Me lists not tell of owches rare,
Of mantles green, and braided hair,
And kirtles furr'd with miniver;
What plumage waved the altar round,
How spurs and ringing chainlets sound;
And hard it were for bard to speak
The changeful hue of Margaret's cheek;

"The Lady of the Lake has nothing so good as the address to Scotland."-MACINTOSH.

2 The preceding four lines now form the inscription on the monument of Sir Walter Scott in the market-place of Selkirk. See Life, vol. x. p. 257.

3 The line " Still lay my head," &c., was not in the first edition.-ED.

That lovely hue which comes and flies, As awe and shame alternate rise!

V.

Some bards have sung, the Ladye high

Chapel or altar came not nigh;
Nor durst the rites of spousal grace,
So much she fear'd each holy place.
False slanders these:-I trust right well
She wrought not by forbidden spell ;*
For mighty words and signs have power
O'er sprites in planetary hour:
Yet scarce I praise their venturous part,
Who tamper with such dangerous art.
But this for faithful truth I say,
The Ladye by the altar stood,
Of sable velvet her array,

And on her head a crimson hood,
With pearls embroider'd and entwined,
Guarded with gold, with ermine lined;
A merlin sat upon her wrist 5
Held by a leash of silken twist.

VI.

The spousal rites were ended soon:
"Twas now the merry hour of noon,
And in the lofty arched hall
Was spread the gorgeous festival.
Steward and squire, with heedful haste,
Marshall'd the rank of every guest;
Pages, with ready blade, were there,
The mighty meal to carve and share:
O'er capon, heron-shew, and crane,
And princely peacock's gilded train,
And o'er the boar-head, garnish'd brave,
And cygnet from St. Mary's wave;7
O'er ptarmigan and venison,
The priest had spoke his benison.
Then rose the riot and the din,
Above, beneath, without, within!
For, from the lofty balcony,

Rung trumpet, shalm, and psaltery:

Their clanging bowls old warriors quaff'd, Loudly they spoke, and loudly laugh'd; Whisper'd young knights, in tone more mild, To ladies fair, and ladies smiled.

The hooded hawks, high perch'd on beam,

The clamour join'd with whistling scream,
And flapp'd their wings, and shook their bells,
In concert with the stag-hounds' yells.
Round go the flasks of ruddy wine,
From Bourdeaux, Orleans, or the Rhine;
Their tasks the busy sewers ply,
And all is mirth and revelry.

4 See Appendix, Note 3 X.
See Appendix, Note 3 Z.

5 Ibid. Note 3 Y.

7 There are often flights of wild swans upon St. Mary's Lake, at the head of the river Yarrow. See Wordsworth's Yarrow Visited.

"The swan on still St. Mary's Lake
Floats double, swan and shadow."-ED.

VII.

The Goblin Page, omitting still
No opportunity of ill,

Strove now, while blood ran hot and high,
To rouse debate and jealousy;
Till Conrad, Lord of Wolfenstein,

By nature fierce, and warm with wine,
And now in humour highly cross'd,
About some steeds his band had lost,
High words to words succeeding still,
Smote, with his gauntlet, stout Hunthill;'
A hot and hardy Rutherford,

Whom men called Dickon Draw-the-sword.
He took it on the page's saye,

Hunthill had driven these steeds away.
Then Howard, Home, and Douglas rose,
The kindling discord to compose:
Stern Rutherford right little said,

But bit his glove, and shook his head.-
A fortnight thence, in Inglewood,
Stout Conrade, cold, and drench'd in blood,
His bosom gored with many a wound,
Was by a woodman's lyme-dog found;
Unknown the manner of his death,

Gone was his brand, both sword and sheath;
But ever from that time, 'twas said,
That Dickon wore a Cologne blade.

VIII.

The dwarf, who fear'd his master's eye
Might his foul treachery espie,
Now sought the castle buttery,
Where many a yeoman, bold and free,
Revell❜d as merrily and well
As those that sat in lordly selle.
Watt Tinlinn, there, did frankly raise
The pledge to Arthur Fire-the-Braes ;3
And he, as by his breeding bound,
To Howard's merry-men sent it round.
To quit them, on the English side,
Red Roland Forster loudly cried,
"A deep carouse to yon fair bride!".
At every pledge, from vat and pail,
Foam'd forth in floods the nut-brown ale;
While shout the riders every one;
Such day of mirth ne'er cheer'd their clan,

1 See Appendix, Note 4 A.

2 Ibid. Note 4 B.

a The person bearing this redoubtable nom de guerre was an Elliot, and resided at Thorleshope, in Liddesdale. He occurs in the list of Border riders, in 1597.

4 See Appendix, Note 4 C.

5 "The appearance and dress of the company assembled in the chapel, and the description of the subsequent feast, in which the hounds and hawks are not the least important personages of the drama, are again happy imitations of those authors from whose rich but unpolished ore Mr. Scott has wrought much of his most exquisite imagery and description. A society, such as that assembled in Branxholm Castle, inflamed with national prejudices, and heated with wine, seems to have contained in itself sufficient seeds of spontaneous dis

Since old Buccleuch the name did gain, When in the cleuch the buck was ta'en.

IX.

The wily page, with vengeful thought,
Remember'd him of Tinlinn's yew,
And swore, it should be dearly bought
That ever he the arrow drew.
First, he the yeoman did molest,
With bitter gibe and taunting jest;
Told, how he fled at Solway strife,
And how Hob Armstrong cheer'd his wife;
Then, shunning still his powerful arm,
At unawares he wrought him harm;
From trencher stole his choicest cheer,
Dash'd from his lips his can of beer;
Then, to his knee sly creeping on,
With bodkin pierced him to the bone:
The venom'd wound, and festering joint,
Long after rued that bodkin's point.
The startled yeoman swore and spurn'd,
And board and flagons overturn'd.
Riot and clamour wild began;

Back to the hall the Urchin ran;

Took in a darkling nook his post,

And grinn'd, and mutter'd, "Lost! lost! lost!

X.

By this, the Dame, lest farther fray
Should mar the concord of the day,
Had bid the Minstrels tune their lay.
And first stept forth old Albert Græme,
The Minstrel of that ancient name:6
Was none who struck the harp so well,
Within the Land Debateable;
Well friended, too, his hardy kin,
Whoever lost, were sure to win;

They sought the beeves that made their broth,

In Scotland and in England both.

In homely guise, as nature bade,

His simple song the Borderer said.

XI.

ALBERT GRÆME.7

It was an English ladye bright,

(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,8)

order; but the goblin page is well introduced, as applying a torch to this mass of combustibles. Quarrels, highly characteristic of Border manners, both in their cause and the manner in which they are supported, ensue, as well among the lordly guests, as the yoemen assembled in the buttery."Critical Review, 1805.

6 See Appendix, Note 4 D.

7 "It is the author's object, in these songs, to exemplify the different styles of ballad narrative which prevailed in this island at different periods, or in different conditions of society. The first (ALBERT'S) is conducted upon the rude and simple model of the old Border ditties, and produces its effect by the direct and concise narrative of a tragical occurrence.”—JEF

FREY.

8 See Appendix, Note 4 E.

And she would marry a Scottish knight, For Love will still be lord of all.

Blithely they saw the rising sun,

When he shone fair on Carlisle wall; But they were sad ere day was done, Though Love was still the lord of all.

Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine,

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall; Her brother gave but a flask of wine,

For ire that Love was lord of all.

For she had lands, both meadow and lea,
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
And he swore her death, ere he would see
A Scottish knight the lord of all!

XII.

That wine she had not tasted well,

(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) When dead, in her true love's arms, she fell, For Love was still the lord of all!

He pierced her brother to the heart,

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall:

So perish all would true love part,

That Love may still be lord of all!

And then he took the cross divine,

(Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) And died for her sake in Palestine,

So Love was still the lord of all.

Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,)
Pray for their souls who died for love,
For Love shall still be lord of all!

XIII.

As ended Albert's simple lay,

Arose a bard of loftier port;
For sonnet, rhyme, and roundelay,
Renown'd in haughty Henry's court:
There rung thy harp, unrivall'd long,
Fitztraver of the silver song!

The gentle Surrey loved his lyre-
Who has not heard of Surrey's fame?1
His was the hero's soul of fire,

And his the bard's immortal name,

And his was love, exalted high
By all the glow of chivalry.

XIV.

They sought, together, climes afar, And oft, within some olive grove,

See Appendix, Note 4 F.

* First Edit." So sweet their harp and voices join.”

When even came with twinkling star,
They sung of Surrey's absent love.
His step the Italian peasant stay'd,

And deem'd, that spirits from on high,
Round where some hermit saint was laid,
Were breathing heavenly melody;
So sweet did harp and voice combine,"
To praise the name of Geraldine.

XV.

Fitztraver! O what tongue may say

The pangs thy faithful bosom knew, When Surrey, of the deathless lay,

Ungrateful Tudor's sentence slew? Regardless of the tyrant's frown,

His harp call'd wrath and vengeance down. He left, for Naworth's iron towers, Windsor's green glades, and courtly bowers, And faithful to his patron's name,

With Howard still Fitztraver came;

Lord William's foremost favourite he,
And chief of all his minstrelsy.

XVI. FITZTRAVER.3

'Twas All-soul's eve, and Surrey's heart beat high;

He heard the midnight bell with anxious start, Which told the mystic hour, approaching nigh, When wise Cornelius promised, by his art, To show to him the ladye of his heart,

Albeit betwixt them roar'd the ocean grim; Yet so the sage had hight to play his part,

That he should see her form in life and limb, And mark, if still she loved, and still she thought of him.

XVII.

Dark was the vaulted room of gramarye,

To which the wizard led the gallant Knight, Save that before a mirror, huge and high, A hallow'd taper shed a glimmering light On mystic implements of magic might;

On cross, and character, and talisman, And almagest, and altar, nothing bright: For fitful was the lustre, pale and wan, As watchlight by the bed of some departing man.

XVIII.

But soon, within that mirror huge and high,
Was seen a self-emitted light to gleam;
And forms upon its breast the Earl 'gan spy,
Cloudy and indistinct, as feverish dream;
Till, slow arranging, and defined, they seem
To form a lordly and a lofty room,
Part lighted by a lamp with silver beam,