peel, iv. 3, peil, border-tower, properly a tumulus of earth. Eng. pile.

pensil, iv. 27, a streamer or banner; Lat. pendeo, pensilis. [N.B.-Our pencil, properly a painter's brush, comes from penis, a tail, as Cicero says, "Caudam antiqui penem vocabant, ex quo est propter similitudinem penicillus.' Fam. ix. 22, 2.]

pursuivant, iv. 23, Fr. poursuivant, Lat. prosecutor, lit. a pursuer or prosecutor at law. So in Spenser angels descend "like flying pursuivant

Against foul fiends to aid us militant."-F. Q. ii. 8. 2. Hence generally a state messenger or herald.

read, iv. 19, in old sense of 'to counsel,' so 'to read one a lesson,' then to inform, interpret, as 'read a riddle,' so our read is properly to explain, interpret: Spenser has aread, areed, and read, in the same sense. G. rathen, counsel;' rede, speech.' Wedgwood thinks the root-meaning is to put in order. Perhaps connected with 'ready,' (G. bereit,) as Icelandic rada, to counsel, means also to resolve, undertake, start.

requiem, iv. 29, accus. of Lat. requies, rest, which became almost an English word, from being the key-word of a hymn in the funeral mass; 'Pie Jesu domine Dona eis requiem.' N.B. -The accusative, being used far oftener than any other case in Latin, was the case most commonly picked up by the barbarians in the dark ages, hence the acc. and not the nom. is the startingpoint for the derivation of French words from the Latin.

scrogg, iv. 6, or shaw, a shady wood. Norse skogr. T. slogan, iv. 25. The war-cry of a border clan. Scotch sloghorn or sloghorne, the war-cry or clan-name. sluagh, army, and corn, a horn.

swith, iv. 22, 'my lady reads you swith return.'

'swith away!' means 'away quickly;' so

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King Estmere threw the harp aside,

Cp. Irish

Scotch

And swithe he drew his brand."-Percy Rel. i. p. 75. So swith, strong,' swithe, 'very.'

tressure, iv. 8, a flat binding of threads interlaced, so goldtraced (tressed); Fr. tresse, tresses being threefold plaits of hair. trow, iv. 10, 'believe,' trust, cp. true, truth, th. Etym. IV. warison, note of assault, iv. 21. Apparently war-sound. Fr. guerre, son. The Scotch warison means 'reward' or 'guerdon:' it is used in its right meaning, but spelt waresons in Scott, Bannatyne Poems, p. 192. Can he have been misled by the other form, warison?

weapon-schaw, iv. 28, a muster or show of military forces. (So a muster of men or a 'muster' of peacocks. Lat. monstro.) Schaw is the Scotch form of show. A. S. sceowan.

CANTO FIFTH.

I.

CA

'ALL it not vain :-they do not err,
Who say,
that when the Poet dies
Mute Nature mourns her worshipper,
And celebrates his obsequies:
Who say, tall cliff and cavern lone,
For the departed Bard make moan;
That mountains weep in crystal rill
That flowers in tears of balm distil;
Through his loved groves that breezes sigh,
And oaks, in deeper groan, reply;
And rivers teach their rushing wave
To murmur dirges round his grave.

II.

Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn
Those things inanimate can mourn;
But that the stream, the wood, the gale,
Is vocal with the plaintive wail
Of those, who, else forgotten long,
Lived in the poet's faithful song,
And, with the poet's parting breath,
Whose memory feels a second death.
The Maid's pale shade, who wails her lot,
That love, true love, should be forgot,
From rose and hawthorn shakes the tear
Upon the gentle Minstrel's bier :
The phantom Knight, his glory fled,
Mourns o'er the field he heap'd with dead,
Mounts the wild blast that sweeps amain,
And shrieks along the battle-plain.
The Chief, whose antique crownlet long
Still sparkled in the feudal song,
Now, from the mountain's misty throne,
Sees, in the thanedom once his own,

ΙΟ

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His ashes undistinguished lie,
His place, his power, his memory die :
His groans the lonely caverns fill,

His tears of rage impel the rill ;

All mourn the Minstrel's harp unstrung,
Their name unknown, their praise unsung.

III.

Scarcely the hot assault was staid,
The terms of truce were scarcely made,

When they could spy, from Branksome's towers,
The advancing march of martial powers.
Thick clouds of dust afar appear'd,

And trampling steeds were faintly heard;
Bright spears above the columns dun,
Glanced momentary to the sun;

And feudal banners fair display'd

The bands that moved to Branksome's aid.

IV.

Vails not to tell each hardy clan,

From the fair Middle Marches came;
The Bloody Heart blazed in the van,
Announcing Douglas, dreaded name!
Vails not to tell what steeds did spurn,
Where the Seven Spears of Wedderburne
Their men in battle-order set;
And Swinton laid the lance in rest,
That tamed of yore the sparkling crest
Of Clarence's Plantagenet.

Nor list I say what hundreds more,
From the rich Merse and Lammermore,
And Tweed's fair borders, to the war,
Beneath the crest of old Dunbar,

And Hepburn's mingled banners come,

Down the steep mountain glittering far,
And shouting still, "A Home! a Home!"

V.

Now squire and knight, from Branksome sent,
On many a courteous message went ;

To every chief and lord they paid

Meet thanks for prompt and powerful aid ;

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бо

And told them,-how a truce was made,
And how a day of fight was ta'en
'Twixt Musgrave and stout Deloraine;
And how the Ladye prayed them dear,
That all would stay the fight to see,
And deign in love and courtesy,

To taste of Branksome cheer.

Nor, while they bade to feast each Scot,
Were England's noble Lords forgot.
Himself, the hoary Seneschal
Rode forth, in seemly terms to call
Those gallant foes to Branksome Hall.
Accepted Howard, than whom knight
Was never dubb'd, more bold in fight;
Nor, when from war and armour free,
More famed for stately courtesy :
But angry Dacre rather chose
In his pavilion to repose.

VI.

Now, noble Dame, perchance you ask,
How these two hostile armies met?

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Deeming it were no easy task

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To keep the truce which here was set;

Where martial spirits, all on fire,

Breathed only blood and mortal ire.—
By mutual inroads, mutual blows,
By habit, and by nation, foes,

They met on Teviot's strand;

They met and sate them mingled down,
Without a threat, without a frown,

As brothers meet in foreign land :
The hands, the spear that lately grasp'd,
Still in the mailed gauntlet clasp'd,

Were interchanged in greeting dear ;

Visors were raised, and faces shown,
And many a friend, to friend made known,
Partook of social cheer.

Some drove the jolly bowl about;

With dice and draughts some chased the day, And some, with many a merry shout,

In riot, revelry, and rout,

Pursued the foot-ball play.

1ΟΟ

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VII.

Yet, be it known, had bugles blown,
Or sign of war been seen,

Those bands, so fair together ranged,
Those hands, so frankly interchanged,
Had dyed with gore the green :
The merry shout by Teviot-side
Had sunk in war-cries wild and wide,
And in the groan of death;

And whingers, now in friendship bare,
The social meal to part and share,

Had found a bloody sheath.

'Twixt truce and war, such sudden change
Was not infrequent, nor held strange,
In the old Border-day;

But yet on Branksome's towers and town,
In peaceful merriment sunk down
The sun's declining ray.

VIII.

The blithesome signs of wassel gay
Decay'd not with the dying day:
Soon through the latticed windows tall
Of lofty Branksome's lordly hall,
Divided square by shafts of stone,
Huge flakes of ruddy lustre shone ;
Nor less the gilded rafters rang
With merry harp and beakers' clang:
And frequent, on the darkening plain,
Loud hollo, whoop, or whistle ran,
As bands, their stragglers to regain,

Give the shrill watchword of their clan ;

And revellers o'er their bowls, proclaim
Douglas' or Dacre's conquering name.

IX.

Less frequent heard, and fainter still,
At length the various clamours died;
And you might hear, from Branksome hill,
No sound but Teviot's rushing tide;

Save when the changing sentinel
The challenge of his watch could tell;
And save, where, through the dark profound,
The clanging axe and hammer's sound

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