Until the break of day;
For, to ourselves, the deck's rude plank
Is easy as the mossy bank

That's breathed upon by May.
And for our storm-toss'd skiff we seek
Short shelter in this leeward creek,
Prompt when the dawn the east shall streak

Again to bear away.”—
Answered the Warder, “In what name
Assert

ye hospitable claim ?
Whence come, or whither bound ?
Hath Erin seen your parting sails ?
Or come ye on Norweyan gales ?
And seek ye England's fertile. vales,

Or Scotland's mountain ground ?”
66 Warriors--for other title none
For some brief space we list to own,
Bound by a vow-warriors are we;
In strife by land, and storm by sea,

We have been known to fame;

с

And these brief words have import dear,

When sounded in a noble ear,

To harbour safe, and friendly cheer,

That gives us rightful claim. Grant us the trivial boon we seek,

And we in other realms will speak

Fair of your courtesy :
Deny-and be your niggard Hold
Scorn’d by the noble and the bold,
Shunn'd by the pilgrim on the wold,

And wanderer on the lea !”

XXVII.

“ Bold stranger, no-gainst claim like thine,
No bolt revolves by hand of mine,
Though urged in tone that more expressid
A monarch than a suppliant guest.
Be what ye will, Artornish Hall
On this glad eve is free to all.

Though ye had drawn a hostile sword
'Gainst our ally, great England's Lord,
Or mail upon your shoulders borne,
To battle with the Lord of Lorn,
Or, outlaw'd, dwelt by greenwood tree
With the fierce Knight of Ellerslie,
Or aided even the murderous strife,
When Comyn fell beneath the knife
Of that fell homicide The Bruce,
This night had been a term of truce.
Ho, vassals ! give these guests your care,
And ew the narrow postern stair.”

XXVIII.

To land these two bold brethren leapt,
(The weary crew their vessel kept)
And, lighted by the torches' flare,
That seaward flung their smoky glare,
The younger knight that maiden bare

Half lifeless up the rock;

On his strong shoulder lean’d her head,
And down her long dark tresses shed,
As the wild vine, in tendrils spread,

Droops from the mountain oak.
Him follow'd close that elder Lord,

And in his hand a sheathed sword,

Such as few arms could wield;

But when he boun'd him to such task,

Well could it cleave the strongest casque,

And rend the surest shield.

XXIX.

The raised portcullis' arch they pass,
The wicket with its bars of brass,

The entrance long and low,

lis Flank'd at each turn by loop-holes strait, Where bowmen might in ambush wait, (If force or fraud should burst the gate,)

To gall an entering foe.

But every jealous post of ward

Was now defenceless and unbarr'd,

And all the

passage free

To one low-brow'd and vaulted room,

Where squire and yeoman, page and groom,

Plied their loud revelry.

XXX.

And “ Rest ye here," the Warder bade,
“ Till to our Lord your suit is said.-
And, comrades, gaze not on the maid,
And on these men who ask our aid,

As if

ye

ne'er had seen A damsel tired of midnight bark, Or wanderers of a moulding stark,

And bearing martial mien."

But not for Eachin's reproof

Would page or vassal stand aloof,

But crowded on to stare,