He blew a note baith sharp and hie,
Till rock and water rang around-
Threescore of moss-troopers and three

Have mounted at that bugle sound.

The Michaelmas moon had entered then,
And ere she wan the full,

Ye might see by her light in Harden glen
A bow o' kye and a bassen'd bull.

And loud and loud in Harden tower

The quaigh gaed round wi' meikle glee;
For the English beef was brought in bower
And the English ale flow'd merrilie.

And mony a guest from Teviotside
And Yarrow's Braes was there;
Was never a lord in Scotland wide
That made more dainty fare.

They ate, they laugh'd, they sang and quaff'd,
Till nought on board was seen,

When knight and squire were boun to dine,
But a spur of silver sheen.

Lord William has ta'en his berry-brown steed—

A sore shent man was he;

"Wait ye, my guests, a little speed

Weel feasted ye shall be."

He rode him down by Falsehope* burn,

His cousin dear to see,

With him to take a riding turn

Wat-draw-the-sword was he.

And when he came to Falsehope glen,
Beneath the trysting-tree,

On the smooth green was carved plain,
"To Lochwood bound are we."

"O, if they be gane to dark Lochwood
To drive the Warden's gear,
Betwixt our names, I ween, there's feud;
I'll go and have my share :

"For little reck I for Johnstone's feud,

The Warden though he be."

So Lord William is away to dark Lochwood, With riders barely three.

The Warden's daughters in Lochwood sate, Were all both fair and gay,

All save the Lady Margaret,

And she was wan and wae.

The sister, Jean, had a full fair skin,
And Grace was bauld and braw;
But the leal-fast heart her breast within
It weel was worth them a'.

Her father's pranked her sisters twa
With meikle joy and pride;

But Margaret maun seek Dundrennan's wa'-
She ne'er can be a bride.

On spear and casque by gallants gent
Her sisters' scarfs were borne,

But never at tilt or tournament
Were Margaret's colours worn.

Her sisters rode to Thirlstane bower,
But she was left at hame

To wander round the gloomy tower,
And sigh young Harden's name.

"Of all the knights, the knight most fair,
From Yarrow to the Tyne,"

Soft sigh'd the maid, "is Harden's heir,
But ne'er can he be mine;

"Of all the maids the foulest maid

From Teviot to the Dee,

Ah!" sighing sad, that lady said,

"Can ne'er young Harden's be."

She looked up the briery glen,
And up the mossy brae,

And she saw a score of her father's men
Yclad in the Johnstone grey.

O, fast and fast they downwards sped
The moss and briers among,
And in the midst the troopers led
A shackled knight along.

GLENFINLAS: *

OR, LORD RONALD'S CORONACH

"O HONE a rie'! O hone a rie'!
The pride of Albin's line is o'er ;
And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree;
We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!

O, sprung from great Macgillianore,
The chief that never fear'd a foe,
How matchless was thy broad claymore,
How deadly thine unerring bow !

Well can the Saxon widows tell,

How, on the Teith's resounding shore,

The boldest Lowland warriors fell,

As down from Lenny's pass you bore.

But o'er his hills, in festal day,

How blazed Lord Ronald's beltanetree, While youths and maids the light strathspey So nimbly danced with Highland glee!

Cheer'd by the strength of Ronald's shell,
E'en age forgot his tresses hoar;
But now the loud lament we swell,
O ne'er to see Lord Ronald more.

From distant isles a chieftain came,

The joys of Ronald's halls to find, And chase with him the dark-brown game, That bounds o'er Albin's hills of wind.

'Twas Moy; whom in Columba's isle
The seer's prophetic spirit found,
As, with a minstrel's fire the while,
He waked his harp's harmonious sound.

Full many a spell to him was known,
Which wandering spirits shrink to hear;
And many a lay of potent tone,

Was never meant for mortal ear.

For there, 'tis said, in mystic mood,
High converse with the dead they hold,
And oft espy the fated shroud,

That shall the future corpse enfold.

O so it fell, that on a day,

To rouse the red-deer from their den, The Chiefs have ta'en their distant way, And scour'd the deep Glenfinlas glen.

No vassals wait their sports to aid,

To watch their safety, deck their board; Their simple dress, the Highland plaid,

Their trusty guard, the Highland sword.

Three summer days, through brake and dell, Their whistling shafts successful flew ;

And still, when dewy evening fell,

The quarry to their hut they drew.

In grey Glenfinlas' deepest nook
The solitary cabin stood,

Fast by Moneira's sullen brook,

Which murmurs through that lonely wood.

Soft fell the night, the sky was calm,

When three successive days had flown;

And summer mist in dewy balm

Steep'd heathy bank and mossy stone.

The moon, half-hid in silvery flakes,
Afar her dubious radiance shed,
Quivering on Katrine's distant lakes,
And resting on Benledi's head.

Now in their hut, in social guise,
Their silvan fare the Chiefs enjoy ;
And pleasure laughs in Ronald's eyes,
As many a pledge he quaffs to Moy.

66

What lack we here to crown our bliss, While thus the pulse of joy beats high? What, but fair woman's yielding kiss,

Her panting breath and melting eye?

"To chase the deer of yonder shades, This morning left their father's pile The fairest of our mountain maids,

The daughters of the proud Glengyle.

"Long have I sought sweet Mary's heart, And dropp'd the tear, and heaved the sigh: But vain the lover's wily art,

Beneath a sister's watchful eye.

"But thou mayst teach that guardian fair, While far with Mary I am flown,

Of other hearts to cease her care,

And find it hard to guard her own.

"Touch but thy harp, thou soon shalt see The lovely Flora of Glengyle,

Unmindful of her charge and me,

Hang on thy notes, 'twixt tear and smile.

"Or, if she choose a melting tale,

All underneath the greenwood bough,

Will good St. Oran's rule prevail,
Stern huntsman of the rigid brow!'

"Since Enrick's fight, since Morna's death,
No more on me shall rapture rise,
Responsive to the panting breath,

Or yielding kiss, or melting eyes.

"E'en then, when o'er the heath of woe,
Where sunk my hopes of love and fame,

I bade my harp's wild wailings flow,
On me the Seer's sad spirit came.