INTRODUCTION. THE way was long, the wind was cold, His wither'd cheek, and tresses gray, No longer courted and caress'd, High placed in hall, a welcome guest, He pour'd, to lord and lady gay, Old times were changed, old manners gone; A stranger fill'd the Stuart's throne; The bigots of the iron time Had call'd his harmless art a crime. He pass'd where Newark's stately tower Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower: The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye No humbler resting-place was nigh. The embattled portal-arch he pass'd, Whose ponderous grate and massy bar Had oft roll'd back the tide of war, But never closed the iron door Against the desolate and poor. Though born in such a high degree; Had wept o'er Monmouth's bloody tomb! When kindness had his wants supplied, And the old man was gratified, Began to rise his minstrel pride: * Anne, Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, representative of the ancient Lords of Buccleuch, and widow of the unfortunate James, Duke of Monmouth, who was beheaded in 1685. And he began to talk anon, Of good Earl Francis,* dead and gone, And of Earl Walter,† rest him, God! And how full many a tale he knew, Of the old warriors of Buccleuch : And, would the noble Duchess deign Though stiff his hand, his voice though weak, He thought even yet, the sooth to speak, That, if she loved the harp to hear, He could make music to her ear. The humble boon was soon obtain'd; The Aged Minstrel audience gain'd. * Francis Scott, Earl of Buccleuch, father of the Duchess. + Walter, Earl of Buccleuch, grandfather of the Duchess, and a celebrated warrior. |