And holy banner, flourish'd fair

With the Redeemer's name.
Above the prostrate pilgrim band
The mitred Abbot stretch'd his hand,

And bless'd them as they kneel'd ;
With holy cross he sign'd them all,
And pray'd they might be sage in hall,
And fortunate in field.

Then mass was sung, and prayers were said,
And solemn requiem for the dead;

And bells toll'd out their mighty peal,
For the departed spirit's weal;
And ever in the office close

The hymn of intercession rose ;

And far the echoing aisles prolong
The awful burthen of the song,-
DIES IRE, DIES ILLA,
SOLVET SÆCLUM IN FAVILLA;
While the pealing organ rung;

Were it meet with sacred strain
To close my lay, so light and vain,
Thus the holy Fathers sung.

XXXI.

HYMN FOR THE DEAD.

That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day?

When, shriveling like a parched scroll,
The flaming heavens together roll;
When louder yet, and yet more dread,
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead!

1

"the vale unfolds

Rich groves of lofty stature,

With Yarrow winding through the pomp
Of cultivated nature;

And, rising from those lofty groves,

Behold a ruin hoary,

The shattered front of Newark's towers,

Renown'd in Border story.

"Fair scenes for childhood's opening bloom,
For sportive youth to stray in ;

For manhood to enjoy his strength;

And age to wear away in," &c.

WORDSWORTH's Yarrow Visited.

Bowhill is now, as has been mentioned already, a seat of the Duke of Buccleuch. It stands immediately below Newark Hill, and above the junction of the Yarrow and the Ettrick. For the other places named in the text, the reader is referred to various notes on the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.-ED. 3 Orig." And grain waved green on Carterhaugh."

4 "The arch allusions which run through all these Introductions, without in the least interrupting the truth and graceful pathos of their main impression, seem to me exquisitely characteristic of Scott, whose delight and pride was to play with the genius which nevertheless mastered him at will. For, in truth, what is it that gives to all his works their unique and marking charm, except the matchless effect which sudden effusions of the purest heart-blood of nature derive from their being poured out, to all appearance involuntarily, amidst dic

Oh! on that day, that wrathful day,
When man to judgment wakes from clay,
Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay,
Though heaven and earth shall pass away!

HUSH'D is the harp-the Minstrel gone. And did he wander forth alone? Alone, in indigence and age,

To linger out his pilgrimage?

No; close beneath proud Newark's tower,'
Arose the Minstrel's lowly bower;

A simple hut; but there was seen
The little garden hedged with green,
The cheerful hearth, and lattice clean.
There shelter'd wanderers, by the blaze,
Oft heard the tale of other days;
For much he loved to ope his door,
And give the aid he begg'd before.
So pass'd the winter's day; but still,
When summer smiled on sweet Bowhill,"
And July's eve, with balmy breath,
Waved the blue-bells on Newark heath;
When throstles sung in Harehead-shaw,
And corn was green on Carterhaugh,3
And flourish'd, broad, Blackandro's oak,
The aged Harper's soul awoke!
Then would he sing achievements high,
And circumstance of chivalry,
Till the rapt traveller would stay,
Forgetful of the closing day;
And noble youths, the strain to hear,
Forsook the hunting of the deer;
And Yarrow, as he roll'd along,

Bore burden to the Minstrel's song.

tion and sentiment cast equally in the mould of the busy world, and the seemingly habitual desire to dwell on nothing but what might be likely to excite curiosity, without too much disturbing deeper feelings, in the saloons of polished life? Such outbursts come forth dramatically in all his writings; but in the interludes and passionate parentheses of the Lay of the Last Minstrel we have the poet's own inner soul and temperament laid bare and throbbing before us. Even here, indeed, he has a mask, and he trusts it- but fortunately it is a transparent one.

"Many minor personal allusions have been explained in the notes to the last edition of the Lay.' It was hardly neces sary even then to say that the choice of the hero had been dictated by the poet's affection for the living descendants of the Baron of Cranstoun; and now-none who have perused the preceding pages can doubt that he had dressed out his Margaret of Branksome in the form and features of his own first love. This poem may be considered as the bright consummate flower' in which all the dearest dreams of his youthful fancy had at length found expansion for their strength, spirit, tenderness, and beauty.

"In the closing lines

Hush'd is the harp-the Minstrel gone;
And did he wander forth alone?
Alone, in indigence and age,
To linger out his pilgrimage?
No!-close beneath proud Newark's tower
Arose the Minstrel's humble bower,' &c.—