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«Not so, by high Dunlathmon's fire,

Thy heart was froze to love and joy,

When gaily rung thy raptured lyre,

To wanton Morna's melting eye.»>

Wild stared the minstrel's eye of flame,
And high his sable locks arose,
And quick his colour went and came,
As fear and rage alternate rose.

« And thou! when by the blazing oak
I lay, to her and love resign'd,
Say, rode ye on the eddying smoke,
Or sail'd ye on the midnight wind?

«Not thine a race of mortal blood, Nor old Glengyle's pretended line; Thy dame, the Lady of the Flood,

Thy sire, the Monarch of the Mine.»>

He mutter'd thrice St Oran's rhyme,

And thrice St Fillan's powerful prayer; (5) Then turn'd him to the eastern clime,

And sternly shook his coal-black hair.

And, bending o'er his harp, he flung

His wildest witch-notes on the wind; And loud, and high, and strange, they rung, As many a magic change they find.

Tall wax'd the Spirit's altering form, Till to the roof her stature grew; Then, mingling with the rising storm, With one wild yell, away she flew.

Rain beats, hail rattles, whirlwinds tear:
The slender hut in fragments flew;
But not a lock of Moy's loose hair
Was waved by wind, or wet by dew.

Wild mingling with the howling gale, Loud bursts of ghastly laughter rise; High o'er the minstrel's head they sail, And die amid the northern skies.

The voice of thunder shook the wood,

As ceased the more than mortal yell; And, spattering foul, a shower of blood Upon the hissing firebrands feli.

Next, dropp'd from high a mangled arm;
The fingers strain'd a half-drawn blade;
And last, the life-blood streaming warm,
⚫ Torn from the trunk, a gasping head.

Oft o'er that head, in battling field,

Stream'd the proud crest of high Benmore; That arm the broad claymore could wield, Which dyed the Teith with Saxon gore.

Woe to Moneira's sullen rills!

Woe to Glenfiulas' dreary glen! There never son of Albyn's hills

Shall draw the hunter's shaft agen!

E'en the tired pilgrim's burning feet

At noon shall shun that sheltering den, Lest, journeying in their rage, he meet The wayward Ladies of the Glen.

And we-behind the chieftain's shield, No more shall we in safety dwell; None leads the people to the fieldAnd we the loud lament must swell.

O hone a rie'! O hone a rie'!

The pride of Albyn's line is o'er,

And fallen Glenartney's stateliest tree; We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!

NOTES.

Note 1. Stanza iii.

Well can the Saxon widows tell.

The term Sassenach, or Saxon, is applied by the Highlanders to their Low-country neighbours.

Note 2. Stanza iv.

How blazed Lord Ronald's beltane tree.

The fires lighted by the Highlanders on the first of May, in compliance with a custom derived from the Pagan times, are termed, the Beltane Tree. It is a festival celebrated with various superstitious rites, both in the north of Scotland and in Wales.

Note 3. Stanza vii.

The seer's prophetic spirit found, etc.

I can only describe the second sight, by adopting Dr Johnson's definition, who calls it an impression, either by the mind upon the eye, or by the eye upon the mind, by which things distant and future are perceived and seen as if they were present.» To which I would only add, that the spectral appearances, thus presented, usually presage misfortune; that the faculty is painful to those who suppose they possess it; and that they usually acquire it, while themselves under the pressure of melancholy.

Note 4. Stanza xxii.

Will good St Oran's rule prevail.

St Oran was a friend and follower of St Columba, and was buried in Icolmkill. His pretensions to be a saint were rather dubious. According to the legend, he consented to be buried alive, in order to propitiate certain demons of the soil, who obstructed the attempts of Columba to build a chapel. Columba caused the body of his friend to be dug up, after three days had elapsed; when Oran, to the horror and scandal of the assistants, declared, that there was neither a God, a judgment, nor a future state! He had no time to make further discoveries, for Columba caused the earth once more to be shovelled over him with the utmost dispatch, The chapel, however, and the cemetry, was called Reilig Ouran; and, in memory of his rigid celibacy, no female was permitted to pay her devotions, or be buried, in that place. This is the rule alluded to in the poem.

Note 5. Stanza Iv.

And thrice St Fillan's powerful prayer. St Fillan has given his name to many chapels, holy

is a ruined chapel. Brotherstone is a heath, in the neighbourhood of Smaylho'me Tower.

The

This ancient fortress and its vicinity formed the scene of the author's infancy, and seemed to claim from him this attempt to celebrate them in a Border tale. catastrophe of the tale is founded upon a well-known Irish tradition.

THE Baron of Smaylho'me rose with day,
He spurr'd his courser on,
Without stop or stay, down the rocky way,

That leads to Brotherstone.

fountains, etc. in Scotland. He was, according to Ca-
merarius, an abbot of Pittenweem, in Fife, from which
situation he retired, and died a hermit in the wilds of
Glenurchy, A.D. 649. While engaged in transcribing
the Scriptures, his left hand was observed to send forth
such a splendour, as to afford light to that with which
he wrote; a miracle which saved many candles to the
convent, as St Fillan used to spend whole nights in that
exercise. The 9th of January was dedicated to this
saint, who gave his name to Kilfillan, in Renfrew, and
St Phillans, or Forgend, in Fife. Lesley, lib. 7. tells us,
that Robert the Bruce was possessed of Fillan's miracu
lous and luminous arm, which he inclosed in a silver
shrine, and had it carried at the head of his army. Pre-He went not with the bold Buccleuch,
vious to the battle of Bannockburn, the king's chap-
lain, a man of little faith, abstracted the relic, and de-
posited it in some place of security, lest it should fall
into the hands of the English. But, lo! while Robert
was addressing his prayers to the empty casket, it was
observed to open and shut suddenly; and, on inspection,
the saint was found to have himself deposited his arm
in the shrine, as an assurance of victory. Such is the
tale of Lesley. But though Bruce little needed that the
arm of St Fillan should assist his own, he dedicated to
him, in gratitude, a priory at Killin, upon
Loch Tay.

In the Scots Magazine for July, 1802 (a national periodical publication, which has lately revived with considerable energy), there is a copy of a very curious crown-grant, dated 11th July, 1487, by which James III. confirms to Malice Doire, an inhabitant of Strathfillan, in Perthshire, the peaceable exercise and enjoyment of a relic of St Fillan, called the Quegrich, which he, and his predecessors, are said to have possessed since the days of Robert Bruce. As the Quegrich was used to cure diseases, this document is, probably, the most ancient patent ever granted for a quack medicine. The ingenious correspondent, by whom it is furnished, further observes, that additional particulars concerning St Fillan are to be found in BALLENDEN'S Boece, Book 4, folio ccxiii, and in PENNANT'S Tour in Scotland, 1772, PP. 11, 15.

THE EVE OF SAINT JOHN.

His banner broad to rear:

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He went not 'gainst the English yew
To lift the Scottish spear.

Yet his plate-jack1 was braced, and his helmet was laced,
And his vaunt-brace of proof he wore;

At his saddle-gerthe was a good steel sperthe,
Full ten pound weight and more.

The baron return'd in three days' space,

And his looks were sad and sour;

And weary was his courser's pace,

As he reach'd his rocky tower.

He came not from where Ancram Moor
Ran red with English blood;
Where the Douglas true, and the bold Buccleuch,
'Gainst keen Lord Evers stood.

Yet was his helmet hack'd and hew'd,

His acton pierced and tore;

Ulis axe and his dagger with blood embrued,
But it was not English gore.

fle lighted at the Chapellage,

He held him close and still;
And he whistled thrice for his little foot-page,
His name was English Will.

<«<Come thou hither, my little foot-page;
Come hither to my knee;

Though thou art young, and tender of age,
I think thou art true to me.

<< Come, tell me all that thou hast seen,
And look thou tell me true!

What did thy lady do?»

My lady, each night, sought the lonely light,
That burns on the wild Watch fold;
For, from height to height, the beacons bright
Of the English foemen told.

SMAYLHO ME, or Smallholm Tower, the scene of the fol-
lowing ballad, is situated on the northern boundary of
Roxburghshire, among a cluster of wild rocks, called
Sandiknow Crags, the property of Hugh Scott, Esq. of
Harden. The tower is a high square building, surround-Since I from Smaylho'me tower have been,
ed by an outer wall, now ruinous. The circuit of the
outer court, being defended, on three sides, by a pre-
cipice and morass, is accessible only from the west, by
a steep and rocky path. The apartments, as is usual in
a Border keep, or fortress, are placed one above another,
and communicate by a narrow stair; on the roof are
two bartizans, or platforms, for defence or pleasure.
The inner door of the tower is wood, the outer an iron
grate; the distance between them being nine feet, the
thickness, namely, of the wall. From the elevated si-Yet the craggy pathway she did cross,
tuation of Smaylho'me Tower, it is seen many miles in
every direction. Among the crags, by which it is sur-
rounded, one, more eminent, is called The Watchfold;}
and is said to have been the station of a beacon, in the
times of war with Eagland. Without the tower-court

«The bittern clamour'd from the moss,
The wind blew loud and shrill;

To the eiry beacon hill.

The plate-jsek is coat-armour; the vauni-brace, or wambeam

armour for the body; the sperthe, a battle-axe.
See an account of the battle of Ancram Moor, subjoined to the
ballad.

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At the lone midnight hour, when bad spirits have

power,

In thy chamber will I be.'

With that he was gone, and my‘lady left alone,

And no more did I see.»>

Then changed. I trow, was that bold baron's brow,
From the dark to the blood-red high;

« Now, tell me the mien of the knight thou hast seen,
For, by Mary, he shall die!»

«His arms shone full bright in the beacon's red light,
His plume it was scarlet and blue;

On his shield was a hound, in a silver leash bound,
And his crest was a branch of the yew.»

« Thou liest, thou liest, thou little foot-page,
Loud dost thou lie to me!

For that knight is cold, and low laid in the mould,
All under the Eildon-tree.»>

«Yet hear but my word, my noble lord,
For I heard her name his name;
And that lady bright, she call'd the knight,
Sir Richard of Coldinghame.»>

The bold baron's brow then changed, I trow,
From high blood-red to pale-

«The grave is deep and dark-and the corpse
is stiff

and stark

So I may not trust thy tale.

« Where fair Tweed flows round holy Melrose,
And Eildon slopes to the plain,

Full three nights ago, by some secret foe,
That
gay gallant was slain.

«The varying light deceived thy sight,

And the wild winds drown'd the name;

For the Dryburgh bells ring, and the white monks do

sing,

For Sir Richard of Coldinghame!>>

He pass'd the court-gate, and he open'd the tower

grate,

And he mounted the narrow stair,

To the bartizan-seat, where, with maids that on her

wait,

He found his lady fair.

Yet there sleepeth a priest in the chamber to the That lady sat in mournful mood; east,

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The black rood of Melrose was a crucifix of black marble, and of superior sanctity.

Look'd over hill and dale;

Over Tweed's fair flood, and Mertoun's' wood,
And all down Teviotdale.

«Now hail, now hail, thou lady bright!»

«Now hail, thou baron true!

What news, what news, from Ancram fight?
What news from the bold Buccleuch ?»

« The Ancram Moor is red with gore
For

many a southeru fell;

And Buccleuch has charged us, evermore,
To watch our beacons well,»>

Eildon is a high hill, terminating in three conical summits, imDryburgh Abbey is beautifully situated on the banks of the mediately above the town of Melrose, where are the admired ruins! Tweed. After its dissolution, it became the property of the flali- of a magnific at monastery. Eildon-tree is said to be the spot burtons of Newmains, and is now the seat of the right honourable, where Thomas the thymer uttered his prophecies. the Earl of Buchan. It belonged to the order of Premonstratenses.

* Mertoun is the beautiful seat of Hugh Scott, Esq. of Harden.

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That nun, who ne'er beholds the day, That monk, who speaks to none, That nun was Smaylho'me's lady gay, That monk the bold baron.

-- cody grave

-aer fair,

od there

> thy side:

*ghts three,

river are said for me,

- - £ vain.

ear Tweed's fair strand,

the beacon's height,

8 1 to dwell.

for a certain space, a fro;

swer to come to thy bower, wajured me so.»>

der brow she cross'd; hast thou sped?

how seek of art thou lost?»>chant shook his head!

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Insight gear, etc. (furniture) an incalculable
quantity.

MURDIN'S State Papers, vol. i, p. 51.

The King of England had promised to these two harons a feudal grant of the country, which they had this reduced to a desert; upon hearing which, Archibal Douglas, the seventh earl of Angus, is said to ha sworn to write the deed of investiture upon their sk with sharp pens and bloody ink, in resentment for their having defaced the tombs of his ancestors, at Me rose.- Godscroft. In 1545, Lord Evers and Latou again entered Scotland with an army, consisting af 3000 mercenaries, 1500 English Borderers, and 703sured Scottishmen, chiefly Armstrongs, Turnbulls, other broken clans. In this second incursion, the Eag lish generals even exceeded their former cruelty. Evo burned the tower of Broomhouse with its lady (a nobie and aged woman, says Lesley), and her whole family, The English penetrated as far as Melrose, which they had destroyed last year, and which they now again p laged. As they returned towards Jedburgh, they were followed by Angus, at the head of 1000 horse, who was shortly after joined by the famous Norman Lesley, wt. a body of Fife-men. The English, being probably e willing to cross the Teviot while the Scots hung upu their rear, halted upon Ancram Moor, above the villag of that name; and the Scottish general was deliberating whether to advance or retire, when Sir Walter Scot

The editor has found no instance upon record of this fam having taken assurance with England. Hence they usually suffere. dreadfully from the English forays. In August, 1546 (the year pr ceding the battle), the whole lands belonging to Buccleuch, in West Teviotdale, were harried by Evers; the out-works, or harekin, of the tower of Branxholm, burned; eight Scots slain, thirty made prisoners, and an immense prey of horses, cattle, and sheep, cam off. The lands upon Kale Water, belonging to the same chieftia. were also plundered, and much spoil obtained, thirty Scots da and the Moss Tower (a fortress near Eckford) smoked very samo Thus Buccleuch had a long account to settle at Ancram Mour.MURDIN's State Papers, pp. 45, 46.

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