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I had not read another spell, Then on his cheek a buffet fell, i fierce, it stretch'd him on the plain, Beside the wounded Deloraine. From the ground he rose dismay'd, And shook his huge and matted head ; One word be matter'd, and no more• Han of age, thou smitest sore!» No more the elfin page durst try Into the wond'rous book to pry; The casps, though smeard with christian gore, Star faster than they were before, He bid it underneath his cloak.Kow, if you ask who gave the stroke, I cannot tell, so mot I thrive; It was not given by man alive. (4)

XIV. Full sore amazed at the wondrous change,

And frighten'd, as a child might be, At the wild yell and visage strange,

And the dark words of gramarye, The child, amidst the forest bower, Stood rooted like a lily flower; And when at length, with trembling pace,

He sought to find where Branksome lay, He feard to see that grisly face

Glare from some thicket on his way.
Thus, starting oft, he journey'd on,
And deeper in the wood is gone,-
For aye the more he sought his way,
The farther still he went astray,
Until he heard the mountains round
Ring to the baying of a hound.

XI. Cavillingly himself be address'd Te do his master's high behest : He lifted up the living corse, ånd laid it on the weary horse; He led him into Branksome-hall, Before the beards of the warders all; And each did after swear and say, There only pass'd a wain of hay. He took him to Lord David's tower, Even to the Ladye's secret bower; And, but that stronger spells were spread, And the door might not be opened, He had laid him on her very bed. Whate'er he did of gramarye,' Vas always done maliciously; Hefung the warrior on the ground, And the blood well's freshly from the wound.

And bark ! and bark! the deep-mouth'd bark

Comes nigher still, and nigher;
Bursts on the path a dark blood-hound,
His tawny muzzle track'd the ground,

And his red eye shot fire.
Soon as the wilder'd child saw he,
He flew at bim right furióuslie.
I ween you would have seen with joy
The beariog of the gallant boy, i
When, worthy of his noble sire,
His wet cheek glow'd 'ewixt fear and ire!
He faced the blood-hound manfully,
And held his little bal on high
Só fierce he struck, the dog, afraid,
At cautious distance hoarsely bay'd,

But still in act to spring;
When dash'd an archer through the glade,
And when he saw the hound was stay'd,
He drew his tough bow-string;
But a rough voice cried, «Shoot not, hoy!
Ho! shoot not, Edward-'t is a boy!»

XII. As he repass'd the outer court, le spied the fair young child at sport: De thought to train him to the wood; For at a word, be it understood, He was always for ill, and never for good. Send to the boy, some comrade gay Led him forth to the woods to play ; On the draw-bridge the warders stout Saw a terrier and lurcher passing out.

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He led the boy o'er bank and fell,

Until they came to a woodland brook; The running stream dissolved the spell, (5)

And his own elvish shape he took. Could he have had his pleasure vilde, Be bad crippled the joints of the noble child; Or, with bis fiogers long and lean, Had strangled himn in fiendish spleen. But his awful mother he had in dread, And also his power was limited; So he but scowld on the startled child, And darted through the forest wild;

The speaker issued from the wood,
And check'd his fellow's surly mood,

And quelld the ban-dog's ire :
He was an English yeoman good,

And born in Lancashire.
Well could he hit a fallow deer

Five hundred feet him fro;
With hand more true, and eye more clear,

No archer bended bow.
His coal-black hair, shorn round and close,

Set off his sunburnt face;
Old England's sign, St George's cross,

His barret-cap did grace;
His bugle-horn hung by his side,
All in a wolf-skin baldric tied ;
And his short falchion, sharp and elear,
Had pierced the throat of many a deer.

XVII. His kirtle, made of forest green,

Reach'd scantly to his knee;

und, at his belt, of arrows keen

turbish'd sheaf bore be:
Wim buckler scarce in breadth a span,

No larger fence had he;
He uerer' counted him a man

Would strike below the knee; (6)
His Nacken'd bow was in his hand,
Aud the leash, that was his blood-bound's band.

Well I ween, the charm he held
The noble Ladye had soon dispelld;
But she was deeply busied tben
To tend the wounded Deloraine.
Much she wonder'd to find him lie,

On the stone threshold stretch'd along: She thought some spirit of the sky

Had done the bold moss-trooper wrong; Because, despite her precept dread, Perchance he in the book bad read ; But the broken lance in his bosom stood, And it was earthly steel and wood.

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She drew the splinter from the wound,

And with a charm she staunch'd the blood; She bade the cash be cleansed and bound:

No longer by bis couch she stood; But she has ta'en the broken lance,

Apd wash'd it from the clotted gore,

And salved the splinter o'er and o'er. (8)
William of Deloraine, in Irance,
Whene'er she turn'd it round and round,
Twisted as if she gall'd his wound.

Then to her maidens she did say,
That he should be whole man and sound,

Within the course of a night and day.
Full long she toil'd; for she did rue
Mishap to friend so stout and true.

XX. « Gramercy, for thy good will, fair boy! My mind was never set so high; But if thou art chief of such a clap, . . And art the son of such a man, And ever comest to thy command,

Our wardens had need to keep good order : My bow of yew to a hazel wand,

Thou 'lt make them work upon the Border. Meantime, be pleased to come with me, For good Lord Dacre shalt thou see: I think our work is well begun, When we have taken thy father's son.»

XXIV. So pass'd the day-the evening fell. 'T was near the time of curfew bell; The air was mild, the wind was calm, The stream was smooth, the dew was balm; E'en the rude watchman, on the tower, Enjoy'd and bless'd the lovely hour; Far more fair Margaret loved and bless d The hour of silence and of rest. On the high turret sitting lone, . She waked at times the lute's soft tone; Touch'd a wild pote, and, all between, Thought of the bower of hawthorns green. Her golden hair stream'd free from band, Her fair cheek rested on lier band, Her blue eyes sought the west afar, For lovers love the western star.

XXI. Although the child was led away, In Branksome still he seem'd to stay, For so the Dwarf his part did play; And, in the shape of that young boy, He wrought the castle much annoy. The comrades of the young Buccleuch He pinch'd, and beat, and overthrew; Nay, some of them he well nigh slew. He tore Dame Maadlia's silken tire, And, as Sym Hall stood by the fire, He lighted the match of his bandelier, And woefully scorch'd the hack butteer.” It may be hardly thought or said, The mischief that the urchin made, Till many of the castle guess'd That the young baron was possess'd!

XXV. Is yon the star, o'er Penchryst Pen, That rises slowly to her ken, And, spreading broad its wavering light, Shakes its loose tresses on the night? Is yon red glare the western star! 0,'t is the beacon-blaze of war! Scarce could she draw her tightep'd breath, For well she knew the fire of death!

XXVI. The warder view'd it blazing strong, And blew his war-note loud and long, Till, at the high and haughty sound, Rock, wood, and river, rang around. The blast alarm'd the festal hall, And startled forth the warriors all;

Bandelier, belt for carrying ammunition.

Hicklunteer, muskeirer.

And Lothian heard the regent's order,
That all should bowne' them for the Border.

The livelong night in Branksome rang

The ceaseless sound of steel ;
The castle-bell, with backward clang,

Sent forth the larum peal;
Was frequent heard the leavy jar,
Where massy stone and iron bar
Were piled on echoing keep and lower,
To whelm the foe with deadly slower;
Was frequent heard the changing guard,
And watchword from the sleepless ward;
While, wearied by the endless din,
Blood-hound and bap-dog yelld within.

Fa dowoward, in the castle-yard,
Tas many a forch and cresset glared ;
had belms and plumes, confusedly tossid,
Bere in the blaze half seen, half lost;
dat spears in wild disorder shook,
ide reeds beside a frozen brook.

Tee seneschal, whose silver hair
Fiss redden'd by the torches glare,
Scoad in the midst, with gesture proud,
And issued forth his mapdates loud.-
« On Peochryst glows a bale' of fire,
And three are kindling on Priesthaugh-swire; (9)

Ride out, ride out,

The foe to scout!
Hant, mount for Branksome,' every man!.
Thou, Todrig, warn the Johostone clan,

That ever are true and stout.-
Te need not send to Liddesdale ;
Ter, when they see the blazing bale,
bets and Armstrongs never fail.--
Lide, Altoa, ride, for death and life!
And warn the warden of the strife.-
Toung Gilbert, let our beacon blaze,
er kin, and clan, and friends to raise.»—(10)

Fair Margaret, from the turret-head,
Fizard, far below, the coursers' tread,

While loud the harness rang,
As to their seats, with clamour dread,

The ready horsemen sprang;
And trampling hoofs, and iron coats,
kad leaders' voices, mingled notes,

And out! and out! la basty route, The horsemen gallop'd forth; heersing to the south to scout,

And east, and west, and north,
Ever their coming enemies,
im warn their vassals and allies.

Tue ready page, with hurried hand,
Avaked the need-fire's3 slumbering brand,

And ruddy blush'd the heaven;
Para sheet of flame, from the turret high,
Haved like a blood-flag on the sky,

All flaring and uneven.
Aed soon a score of fires, I ween,
from height, and hill, and cliff, were seen;
Each with warlike tidings fraught;
Each from each the signal caught;
Lach after each they glanced to sight,
As stars arise upon the night.
They gleam'd on many a dusky tarn, 4
Haunted by the lonely earn;5
a many a cairn's gray pyramid,
Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid ;(11)
10 laugh Dunedin the blazes saw,
From Soltra and Dumpender Law;

XXXI. The poble dame, amid the broil, Shared the gray seneschal's high toil, And spoke of danger with a smile; Cheer'd the young knights, and council sage Held with the chiefs of riper age. No tidings of the foe were brought, . Nor of his numbers knew they aught, Nor in what time the truce he sought.

Some said, that there were thousands ten, And others wecn'd that it was nought

But Leven Claus, or Tynedale men,
Who came to gather in black-mail ;2
And Liddesdale, with small avail,

Might drive them lightly back agen.
So pass'd the anxious night away,
And welcome was the peep of day.

CEASED the high sound-the listening throng Applaud the master of the song; And marvel much, in helpless age, So hard should be his pilgrimage. Had he no friend---no daughter dear, His wandering toil to share and cheer; No son, to be his father's stay, And guide him on the rugged way? « Ay, once he had—but he was dead!»Upon the harp he stoop'd his head, And busied himself the strings withal, To hide the tear that fain would fall. In solemn measure, soft and slow, Arose a father's notes of woe.


Sweet Teviot! on thy silver tide

The glaring bale-fires blaze no more; No longer steel-clad warriors ride

Along thy wild and willow'd shore; Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill, All, all is peaceful, all is still,

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Borene, make ready. - Protection-inoney exacted by freebooters.

And, at his belt, of arrows keen

A furbish'd sheaf bore be:
His buckler scarce in breadth a span,

No larger fence had he;
He never counted him-a man

Would strike below the knce; (6) His slackend bow was in his hand, And the leash, that was his blood-hound's I.

* ture passing tall,
, form'd, and lean withal;
od morion on his brow;
saera jack, as fence enow,

is broad shoulders loosely hung;
I border-axe behind was slung;
His spear, six Scottish ells in length,

Seem'd newly dyed with gore; His shafts and bow, of wondrous strength, "His hardy partner bore.

XVIII. He would not do the fair child barm But held him with his powerful arm That he might neither tight nor the For when the red cross spied he The boy strove long and viole: « Now, by St George,» their « Edward, methinks we les This boy's fair face, au 1 Show he is come of li.

wit, tireme! « Yes! I am come

For I am the And if that False my

u pread ; For W

Katain cell, And 1

y ed. (2) AL

nie kruis were peat ,

Auttlement; wala ropp'd the tear, wa muzed the spear. Ribler's, the watchman's eye

Base 4 sınoke can spy, when we de rising sun, irretage (3) was begun.

VI. Thus to the Ladye did Tinlinn show The tidings of the English foe. « Belted Will Howard (1) is marching here, And hot Lord Dacre, (8) with many a spear, And all the German hackbut-men,' (9) Who have long lain at Askerten. They cross'd the Liddel at curfew hour, And burnt my little lonely tower; The fiend receive their souls therefor! It had not been burnt this year and more. Barn-yard and dwelling, blazing bright, Served to guide me on my flight; But I was chased the livelong night. Black John of Akeshaw, and Fergus Grame, Full fast upon my traces came, Until I turu'd at Priesthaugl Scrocc, And shot their horses in the bog, Slew Fergus with my lance outrightI had him long at high despite, He drove my cows last Fastern's night.

Delful gate-ward cried-

will all for blows and blood! de vitale from the Liddel side,

van through the flood.

e tyuelale snatchers knock down at the gate, and prove the lock; AS last St Barnabright

him a whole summer night, i morning; well they knew, #hatay never twang'd-the yew.

da su pe has been the evening shower, un bene him from his Liddel tower; As by my faith, the gate-ward said, od tamud I will prove a warden-raid.»

Now weary seouts from Liddesdale,
Fast hurrying in, confirm'd the tale;
As far as they could judge by ken,

Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand Three thousand armed Englishmen.

Meanwhile, full many a warlike band, From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade, Came in, their chief's defence to aid. There was saddling and mounting in haste,

There was pricking o'er moor and lea, He that was last at the crysting-place

Was but lighuy held of his gay ladye.


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From fair St Mary's silver wave,

From dreary Gamescleugh's dusky height, His ready lances Thirlestane brave

Array'd beneath a banner bright. (10)
The tressured fleur-de-luce he claims
To wreathe his shield, since royal James,
Encamp'd by Fala's mossy wave,
The proud distinction grateful gave,

For faith 'mid feudal jars;
What time, save Thirlestane alone,
Of Scotland's stubborn barons none

Would march to southern wars :
And hence, in fair remembrance worn,
Yon sheaf of spears his crest has borne ;
Hence his high motto shines reveald-
«Ready, aye ready,» for the field.

Au furoad commanded by the warden in person. the broken around in a boy


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Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band, (12)

Come trooping down the Todshawhill; By the sword they won their land,

And by the sword they hold it still. Harkan, ladye, to the tale, la tine sires won fair Eskdale.Earl Merton was lord of that valley fair, Te kattisons were his vassals there. Par earl was gentle, and mild of mood, The vassals were warlike, and fierce, and rude; hm of heart, and liaughty of word, Lebe they reck'd of a tame liege-lord. Learl to fair Eskdale came, Bomage and seignory to claim :

Gibert the Galliard a heriot' he sought, Smog, Give thy best steed, as a vassal ought.» - Dear to me is my bonny white steed, Oh bas he help'd me at pinch of need; Lord and earl though thou be, I trow, Tran rein Bucksfoot better than thou.»— Word on word gave fuel to fire, Til sa highly blazed the Beattisons' ire, far that the earl his flight bad ta'en, The vassals there their lord had slaio. Sore he plied both whip and spur, di be urged his steed through Eskdale muir; And it fell down a weary weight, last on the threshold of Branksome gate.

Beshrew thy heart, of the Beattisons' clan
Jf thou leavest on Esk a landed man;
But spare Woodkerrick's lands alone,
For he lent me his horse to escape upon.»-
A glad man then, was Branksome bold,
Down he flung him the purse of gold;
To Eskdale soon he spurr'd amain,
And with him five hundred riders has ta’en.
He left bis merry-men in the mist of the hill,
And bade them hold them close and still;
And alone he wended to the plain,
To meet with the Galliard and all his train.
To Gilbert the Galliard thus he said :-
« Know thou me for thy liege-lord and head;
Deal not with me as with Morton tame,
For Scotts play best at the roughest game.
Give me in peace my heriot due, .
Thy bonny while steed, or thou shalt rue.
If my horn I three times wind,
Eskdale shall long have the sound in mind.»—

Loudly the Beattison laugh`d in scorn;
« Little care we for thy winded horn.
Ne'er shall it be the Galliard's lot,
To yield his steed to a haughty Scott.
Wend thou to Branksome back on foot,
With rusty spur and miry boot.»
He blew his bugle so loud and hoarse,
That the dun deer started at far Craikcross;
He blew again so loud and clear,
Through the gray mountain-mist there did lances

And the third blast rang with such a din,
That the echoes answer'd from Pentoun-linn,
And all his riders came lightly io.
Then had you seen a gallant shock,
When saddles were emptied, and lances broke!
For each scornful word the Galliard had said,
A Beattison on the field was laid.
His own good sword the chieftain drew,
And he bore the Galliard tlırough and through;
Where the Beattison's blood mix'd with the rill,
The Galliard's Haugh, inen call it still.
The Scotts have scatter'd the Beattison clan,
In Eskdale they left but one landed man.
The valley of Eske, from the mouth to the source,
Was lost and won for that bonny white horse.

Whitslade the Hawk, and leadshaw came,
And warriors more than I may name;
From Yarrow-cleugh to Hindhaugh-swair,

From Woodhouselie to Chester-glen,
Troop'd man and horse, and bow and spear;

Their gathering word was Bellenden. (13)
And better hearts o'er Border sod
To siege or rescue never rode.
The Ladye mark'd the aids come in,

And high her heart of pride arose ;
She bade her youthful son attend,
That he might know his father's friend,

And learn to face his foes.
« The boy is ripe to look on war;

I saw him draw a cross-bow stiff, And his true arrow struck afar

The raven's nest upon the cliff ;

The earl was a wrathful man to see,
Hal fain arenged would he be.
a haste to Branksome's lord he spoke,

nag-Take these traitors to thiy yoke; Top a cast of hawks, and a purse of gold, All Eskdale I 'll sell thee, to have and hold :

'The fental superior, in sert Wat vasel, in same of 13

al superior, in certain cases, 'was entitled to the best Tagal, ia name of Heriot, or Herezeld.

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