From Cheviot to the shores of Ross,

From Solway-Sands to Marshal's-Moss,

All boun'd them for the fight.

Such news the royal courier tells,

Who came to rouse dark Arran's dells;

But farther tidings must the ear

Of Isabel in secret hear.

These in her cloister walk, next morn,

Thus shared she with the Maid of Lorn.

VI.

My Edith, can I tell how dear

Our intercourse of hearts sincere

Hath been to Isabel ?

Judge then the sorrow of my heart,

When I must say the words, We part!

The cheerless convent-cell

Was not, sweet maiden, made for thee;

Go thou where thy vocation free

On happier fortunes fell.

Nor, Edith, judge thyself betray'd,

Though Robert knows that Lorn's high Maid

And his poor silent page were one.

Versed in the fickle heart of man,

Earnest and anxious hath he look'd

How Ronald's heart the message brook'd

That gave him, with her last farewell,

The charge of Sister Isabel,

To think upon thy better right,
And keep the faith his promise plight.

Forgive him for thy sister's sake,

At first if vain repinings wake

Long since that mood is gone:

Now dwells he on thy juster claims,

And oft his breach of faith he blames

Forgive him for thine own!"

VII.

"No! never to Lord Ronald's bower

Will I again as paramour"

"Nay, hush thee, too impatient maid,
Until my final tale be said!-

The good King Robert would engage
Edith once more his elfin page,

By her own heart, and her own eye,
Her lover's penitence to try-

Safe in his royal charge, and free,

Should such thy final purpose be,

Again unknown to seek the cell,
And live and die with Isabel."-

Thus spoke the maid-King Robert's

Might have some glance of policy;

Dunstaffnage had the monarch ta'en,

eye

And Lorn had own'd King Robert's reign;

Her brother had to England fled,

And there in banishment was dead;
Ample, through exile, death, and flight,
O'er tower and land was Edith's right;
This ample right o'er tower and land
Were safe in Ronald's faithful hand.

VIII.

Embarrass'd

eye and blushing cheek
Pleasure and shame, and fear bespeak!
Yet much the reasoning Edith made:
"Her sister's faith she must upbraid,

Who gave such secret, dark and dear,
In council to another's ear.

Why should she leave the peaceful cell?-
How should she part with Isabel ?---
How wear that strange attire agen?-

How risk herself 'midst martial men ?-
And how be guarded on the way?-
At least she might entreat delay."-
Kind Isabel, with secret smile,

Saw and forgave the maiden's wile,

Reluctant to be thought to move

At the first call of truant love.

IX.

Oh, blame her not !-when zephyrs wake,

The aspen's trembling leaves must shake; When beams the sun through April's shower,

It needs must bloom, the violet flower;

And Love, howe'er the maiden strive,
Must with reviving hope revive!

A thousand soft excuses came,

To plead his cause 'gainst virgin shame.
Pledged by their sires in earliest youth,
He had her plighted faith and truth—
Then, 'twas her Liege's strict command,
And she, beneath his royal hand,
A ward in person and in land:

And, last, she was resolved to stay

Only brief space—one little day—

Close hidden in her safe disguise

From all, but most from Ronald's eyes