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ring, but the animal would have embarrassed my story. Thus in the Coke's Tale of Gamelyn, ascribed to Chaucer:

There happed to be there beside

Tryed a wrestling;

And therefore there was y-setten
A ram and als a ring.

Again the Litil Geste of Robin Hood:
-By a bridge was a wrestling,
And there taryed was he,
And there was all the best yemen
Of all the west countrey.

A full fayre game there was set up,
A white bull up y-pight,

A great courser with saddle and brydle,
With gold burnished full bryght;
A payre of gloves, a red golde ring,
A pipe of wyne, good fay;
What man bereth him best I wis,
The prise shall bear away.

Ritson's Robin Hood, vol. i.

NOTES TO CANTO VI.

1. These drew not for their fields the sword,
Like tenants of a feudal lord,
Nor owned the patriarchal claim
Of chieftain in their leader's name;
Adventurers they,P. 155.

Peter his brother. When all that was done, then Geffraye spake agayne, and sayd: Nowe, sirs, ye have obeyed to my pleasure, I canne you great thanke: wherefore, sirs, I wyll ye have parte of that ye have holpen to conquere. I say unto you, that in yonder chest that ye se stande yonder, there. in is to the sum of xxx thousand frankes,-I wyll give them accordynge to my conscyence. Wyll ye all be content to fulfil my testament; howe say ye?-Sir, quod they, we be ryghte well contente to fulfyl your commaundement. Thane first, quod he, I wyll and give to the chapell of saynt George, here in this castell, for the reparacions thereof, a thousande and five hundrede frankes: and I give to my lover, who hath truly served me, two thousand and five hundrede frankes: and also I give to Aleyne Roux, your new capitayne, four thousande frankes: also to the varlettes of my chambre I gyve fyve hundrede frankes. To mine offycers I give a thousande and five hundrede frankes. The rest I gyve and bequeth as I shall show you. Ye be upon a thyrtie companyons all of one sorte: ye ought to be brethrene, and all of one alyaunce, without debate, ryotte, or stryffe among you. All this that I have showed you ye shall fynde in yonder cheste. I wylle that ye departe all the residue equally and The Scottish armies consisted chiefly of the no- truelly bitwene you thyrtie. And if ye be nat thus bility and barons, with their vassals, who held contente, but that the devylle wyll set debate bilands under them, for military service by them- twene you, than beholde yonder is a strong axe, selves and their tenants. The patriarchal influence breke up the coffer, and get it who can.-To these exercised by the heads of clans in the highlands words every one ansuered and said, sir, and dere and borders was of a different nature, and some- maister, we are and shall be all of one accorde. times at variance with feudal principles. It flow- Sir, we have so much loved and doated you, that ed from the patria potestas exercised by the chief- we will breke no coffer, nor breke no poynt of that tain, as representing the original father of the ye have ordayned and commanded."-Lord BERwhole name, and was often obeyed in contradic-NERS' tion to the feudal superior. James V seems first Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp! to have introduced, in addition to the militia fur- Get thee an ape, and trudge the land, nished from these sources, the service of a small The leader of a juggler band.-P. 156. number of mercenaries, who formed a body-guard, The jongleurs, or jugglers, as we learn from the called the foot-band. The satirical poet, sir Da- elaborate work of the late Mr. Strutt, on the sports vid Lindsay (or the person who wrote the prologue and pastimes of the people of England, used to to his play of the "Three Estaites, ") has intro- call in the aid of various assistants, to render these duced Finlay of the foot-band, who, after much performances as captivating as possible. The gleeswaggering upon the stage, is at length put to flight maiden was a necessary attendant. Her duty was by the fool, who terrifies him by means of a sheep's tumbling and dancing: and therefore the Angloskull upon a pole. I have rather chosen to give Saxon version of saint Mark's gospel states Hethem the harsh features of the mercenary soldiers rodias to have vaulted or tumbled before king of the period, than of this Scottish Thraso. These Herod. In Scotland, these poor creatures seem, partook of the character of the adventurous com- even at a late period, to have been bondswomen panions of Froissart, or the Condottieri of Italy. to their masters, as appears from a case reported One of the best and liveliest traits of such manners is the last will of a leader, called Geffroy Tete Noir, who having been slightly wounded in a skirmish, his intemperance brought on a mortal disease. When he found himself dying, he summoned to his bed-side the adventurers whom he commanded, and thus addressed them:

2.

Froissart.

by Fountainhall. "Reid the mountebank pursues Scott of Harden and his lady, for stealing away from him a little girl, called the tumbling-lassie, that danced upon his stage; and he claimed da mages, and produced a contract, whereby he bought her from her mother, for 301. Scots. But we have no slaves in Scotland, and mothers cannot sell "Fayre sirs, quod Geffray, I knowe well ye their bairns; and physicians attested, the employhave alwayes served and honoured me as men ought ment of tumbling would kill her; and her joints to serve their soveraygue and capitayne, and I shal were now grown stiff, and she declined to return; be the gladder if ye will agre to have to your ca- though she was at least a 'prentice and so could pitayne one that is descended of my blode. Behold not run away from her master; yet some cited Mohere Aleyne Roux, my cosyn, and Peter his bro- ses's law, that if a servant sheltered himself with ther, who are men of armes and of my blode. I thee, against his master's cruelty, thou shalt surely require you to make Aleyne your capítayne, and not deliver him up. The lords, renitente cancellario to swere to him faythe, obey saunce, love, and loy-assoilzied Harden on the 27th of January, (1687.)' alte, here in my presence, and also to his brother:-Fountainhall's Decisions, vol. i, p. 439.* howe be it, I will that Aleyne have the soverayne charge.-Sir, quod they, we are well content, for ye hauve right well chosen. There all the compaLyons made theym servyant to Aleyne Roux and to

• Though less to my purpose, I cannot help noticing a circumstance respecting another of this Mr. Reid's attendants, which occurred during James II's zeal for catholic proselytism, and is told by Fountainhall, with dry

The facetious qualities of the ape soon rendered markable incident mentioned in the text. It wa him an acceptable addition to the strolling band of the jongleur. Ben Jonson, in his splenetic introduction to the comedy of "Bartholomew Fair," is at pains to inform the audience that "he has ne'er a sword and buckler man in his fair, nor a Juggler, with a well educated ape, to come over the chaine for the king of England, and back again for the prince, and sit still on his haunches for the pope and the king of Spain."

3. That stirring air that peals on high,
O'er Dermid's race our victory.
-P. 157.

Strike it!

greatly posterior in date to the reign of James V. "In this roughly-wooded island,* the country people secreted their wives and children, and their most valuable effects, from the rapacity of Cromwell's soldiers, during their inroad into this country, in the time of the republic. These invaders, not venturing to ascend by the ladders, along the side of the lake, took a more circuitous road, through the heart of the Trosachs, the most frequented path at that time, which penetrates the wilderness about half way between Binean and the lake, by a tract called Yea-chilleach, or the Old Wife's Bog.

"In one of the defiles of this by-road, the men of the country at that time hang upon the rear of the invading enemy, and shot one of Cromwell's men, whose grave marks the scene of action, and gives name to that pass. † In revenge of this insult, the soldiers resolved to plunder the island, to violate the women, and put the children to death. With this brutal intention, one of the party more

There are several instances, at least in tradition, of persons so much attached to particular tunes, as to require to hear them on their death-bed. Such an anecdote is mentioned by the late Mr. Riddell, of Glenriddell, in his collection of border tunes, respecting an air called the "Dandling of the Bairns," for which a certain Gallovidian laird is said to have evinced this strong mark of partiality. It is popularly told of a famous freebooter, that he composed the tune known by the name of Mac-expert than the rest, swam towards the island, to pherson's rant while under sentence of death, and fetch the boat to his comrades, which had carried played it at the gallows-tree. Some spirited words the women to their asylum, and lay moored in one of the creeks. His companions stood on the have been adapted to it by Burns, A similar story shore of the main land, in full view of all that was is recounted of a Welsh bard, who composed and to pass, waiting anxiously for his return with the played on his death-bed the air called Dafyddy boat. But, just as the swimmer had got to the Garregg Wen.

But the most curious example is given by Bran-nearest point of the island, and was laying hold of a black rock, to get on shore, a heroine, who stood tome, of a maid of honour at the court of France, on the very point where he meant to land, hastily entitled, Mademoiselle de Limueil. "Durant sa snatching a dagger from below her apron, with maladie, dont elle trespassa, jamais elle ne cessa, one stroke severed his head from the body. His ains causa tousjours: car elle estoit forte grande party seeing this disaster, and relinquishing all parleuse, brocardeuse, et très-bien et fort à propos, ét très-belle avec cela. Quand l'heure de sa fin fut future hope of revenge or conquest, made the best venue, elle fit venir à soy son valet, (ainsi que les of their way out of their perilous situation. This filles de la cour en ont chacune un,) qui s'appeloit amazon's great-grandson lives at Bridge of Turk, Julien, et scavoit très-bien jouer du violon. Julien, who, besides others, attests the anecdote."-Sketch of the Scenery near Callender. Stirling, 1806, p. luy dit elle, prenez vostre violon, et sonnez moy 20. I have only to add to this account, that the tousjours jusques à ce que me voyez morte (car je m'y en vais) la défaite des Suisses, et le mieux heroine's name was Helen Stuart. 5. And Snowdoun's knight is Scotland's king.-P. 160. que vous pourrez, et quand vous serez sur le mot, This discovery will probably remind the reader Tout est perdu,' sonnez le par quatre ou cing fois, le plus piteusement que vous pourrez,' ce qui fit of the beautiful Arabian tale of Il Bondocani. l'autre, et elle-mesme luy aidoit de la voix, et Yet the incident is not borrowed from that elegant quand ce vint tout est perdu,' elle le réïtera par story, but from Scottish tradition. James V, of deux fois; et se tournant de l'autre costé du chevet, whom we are treating, was a monarch whose good elle dit à ses compagnes; Tout est perdu à ce coup, and benevolent intentions often rendered his roet à bon escient; et ainsi décéda. Voila une mortemantic freaks venial, if not respectable, since, joyeuse et plaisante. Je tiens ceconte de deux de ses from his anxious attention to the interests of the compagnes, dignes de fois, qui virent jouer ce mys- lower and most oppressed class of his subjects, he "Euvres de Brantome, iii, 507. was, as we have seen, popularly termed the king The tune to which this fair lady chose to make of the commons. For the purpose of seeing that her final exit was composed on the defeat of the justice was regularly administered, and frequently Swiss at Marignano. The burden is quoted by from the less justifiable motive of gallantry, he Panurge, in Rabelais, and consists of these words, used to traverse the vicinage of his several palaces imitating the jargon of the Swiss, which is a mix-in various disguises. The two excellent comic ture of French and German.

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"Tout est velore

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4. Battle of Beal' an Duine.-P. 157. A skirmish actually took place at a pass thus called in the Trosachs, and closed with the re

Scottish irony." January 17th, 1687.-Reid the mountebank is received into the popish church, and one of his blackamores was persuaded to accept of baptism from the popish priests, and to turn christian papist; which was a great trophy: he was called James, after the king and Chancellor, and the Apostle James."-Ibid, p. 440.

songs, entitled "The Gaberlunzie Man," and "We'll gae nae mair a roving," are said to have been founded upon the success of his amorous adventures when travelling in the disguise of a beggar. The latter is perhaps the best comic ballad in any language.

Another adventure, which had nearly cost James his life, is said to have taken place at the village of Cramond, near Edinburgh, where he had rendered his addresses acceptable to a pretty girl of the lower rank. Four or five persons, whether

That at the eastern extremity of Loch Katrine, so of ten mentioned in the text. † Beallach an duine.

the genealogical work of Buchanan of Auchmar,
upon Scottish surnames.

relations or lovers of his mistress is uncertain, beset the disguised monarch, as he returned from his rendezvous. Naturally gallant, and an admirable "This John Buchanan of Auchmar and Arnprymaster of his weapon, the king took post on the or was afterwards termed king of Kippen, upon high and narrow bridge over the Almond river, the following account: King James V, a very soand defended himself bravely with his sword. A ciable, debonair prince, residing at Stirling, in peasant, who was threshing in a neighbouring barn, Buchanan of Arnpryor's time, carriers were very came out upon the noise, and, whether moved by frequently passing along the common road, being compassion or by natural gallantry, took the weak-near Arnpryor's house, with necessaries for the er side, and laid about with his flail so effectually, use of the king's family; and he, having some exas to disperse the assailants, well threshed, even traordinary occasion, ordered one of these carriers according to the letter. He then conducted the to leave his load at his house, and he would pay king into his barn, where his guest requested a him for it: which the carrier refused to do, telling basin and towel, to remove the stains of the broil. him he was the king's carrier, and his load for his This being procured with difficulty, James em- majesty's use; to which Arnpryor seemed to have ployed himself in learning what was the summit small regard, compelling the carrier, in the end, to of his deliverer's earthly wishes, and found that leave his load, telling him, if king James was king they were bounded by the desire of possessing, in of Scotland, he was king of Kippen, so that it was property, the farm of Braehead, upon which he reasonable he should share with his neighbour king laboured as a bondsman. The lands chanced to in some of these loads, so frequently carried that belong to the crown; and James directed him to road. The carrier representing this usage, and come to the palace of Holy-Rood, and inquire for telling the story, as Arnpryor spoke it, to some the gudeman (i. e. farmer) of Ballenguich, a name of the king's servants, it came at length to his maby which he was known in his excursions, and jesty's ears, who, shortly thereafter, with a few atwhich answered to the Il Bondocani of Haroun Al- tendants, came to visit his neighbour king, who raschid. He presented himself accordingly, and was in the mean time at dinner. King James havfound, with due astonishment, that he had saved ing sent a servant to demand access, was denied his monarch's life, and that he was to be gratified the same by a tall fellow with a battle-axe, who with a crown-charter of the lands of Braehead, un- stood porter at the gate, telling, there could be no der the service of presenting an ewer, basin, and access till dinner was over. This answer not satowel, for the king to wash his hands, when he tisfying the king, he sent to demand access a seshall happen to pass the bridge of Cramond. cond time; upon which he was desired by the porThis person was ancestor of the Howisons, of ter to desist, otherwise he would find cause to reBraehead, in Mid-Lothian, a respectable family, pent his rudeness. His majesty finding this method who continue to hold the lands (now passed into would not do, desired the porter to tell his master the female line) under the same tenure. that the goodman of Ballageigh desired to speak Another of James's frolics is thus narrated by with the king of Kippen. The porter telling ArnMr. Campbell, from the Statistical Account. "Be- pryor so much, he, in all humble manner, came and ing once benighted when out a hunting, and separat- received the king, and having entertained him with ed from his attendants, he happened to enter a cot- much sumptuousness and jollity, became so agreetage in the midst of a moor, at the foot of the able to king James, that he allowed him to take so Ochil hills, near Alloa, where, unknown, he was much of any provision he found carrying that road kindly received. In order to regale their unex- as he had occasion for; and seeing he made the first pected guest, the gudeman (i. e. landlord, farmer) visit, desired Arnpryor in a few days to return him desired the gudewife to fetch the hen that roosted a second to Stirling, which he performed, and connearest the cock, which is always the plumpest, tinued in very much favour with the king, always for the stranger's supper. The king, highly pleas- thereafter being termed king of Kippen while he ed with his night's lodging and hospitable enter-lived."-BUCHANAN'S Essay upon the family of tainment, told mine host, at parting, that he should Buchanan. Edin. 1775, 8vo. p. 74. be glad to return his civility, and requested that the first time he came to Stirling he would call at the castle, and inquire for the gudeman of Ballenguich. Donaldson, the landlord, did not fail to call on the gudeman of Ballenguich, when his astonishment at finding that the king had been his guest afforded no small amusement to the merry monarch and his courtiers; and, to carry on the pleasantry, he was thenceforth designated by James with the title of king of the moors, which name and designation have descended from father to son ever since, and they have continued in possession of the identical spot, the property of Mr. Erskine, of Mar, till very lately, when this gentleman, with reluctance, turned out the descendant and representative of the king of the moors, on account of his majesty's invincible indolence, and great dislike to reform or innovation of any kind, although, from the spirited example of his neighbour tenants on the same estate, he is convinced similar exertion would promote his advantage."

The author requests permission yet farther to verify the subject of his poem, by an extract from

The readers of Ariosto must give credit for the amiable features with which he is represented, since he is generally considered as the prototype of Zerbino, the most interesting hero of the Orlando Furioso.

6.

-Stirling's tower

Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims.-P. 160.

William of Worcester, who wrote about the
middle of the fifteenth century, calls Stirling cas-
tle Snowdoun. Sir David Lindsay bestows the same
epithet upon it in his complaint of the Papingo:

Adieu, fair Snawdoun, with thy towers high,
Thy chapel-royal, park, and table round;
May, June, and July, would I dwell in thee,
Were I a man, to hear the birdis sound,
Whilk doth again' thy royal rock rebound.
Mr. Chalmers, in his late excellent edition of
rical derivation of Snawdoun from snedding, or
sir David Lindsay's works, has refuted the chime-
tic legend which connected Stirling with king Ar
cutting. It was probably derived from the roman-
thur, to which the mention of the Round Table

• A small district of Perthshire,

H

gives countenance. The ring within which justs would not have suited poetry, and would besidet were formerly practised, in the castle park, is still at once, and prematurely, have announced the plot called the Round Table. Snawdoun is the official to many of my countrymen, among whom the tratitle of one of the Scottish heralds, whose epithets ditional stories above mentioned are still current. seem in all countries to have been fantastically adopted from ancient history or romance.

It appears from the preceding note, that the real name by which James was actually distinguished

The author has to apologise for the inadvertent

in his private excursions, was the goodman of Bal-appropriation of a whole line from the tragedy of lenguich; derived from a steep pass leading up to Douglas, the castle of Stirling, so called. But the epithet

Rokeby;

A POEM.

"I hold the first who strikes, my foe."

TO JOHN B. S. MORRITT, Esq.

THIS POEM, THE SCENE OF WHICH IS LAID IN HIS BEAUTIFUL DEMESNE OF ROKEBY, IS INSCRIBED IN TOKEN OF SINCERE FRIENDSHIP, BY WALTER SCOTT.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The scene of the poem is laid at Rokeby, near Greta-bridge, in Yorkshire, and shifts to the adjacent fortress of Barnard castle, and to other places in that vicinity.

The time occupied by the action is a space of five days, three of which are supposed to elapse between the end of the fifth and beginning of the

sixth canto.

II.

Those towers, which, in the congeful glean. Throw murky shadows on the stam, Those towers of Barnard hoid guest, The emotions of whose troubled breast, In wild and strange confr.sion driven, Rival the flitting rack of heaven. Ere sleep stern Oswald's senses tied, Oft had he changed his weary side, The date of the supposed events is immediately Composed his limbs, and vainly sought subsequent to the great battle of Marston-moor, By effort strong to banish thought. 3d July, 1644. This period of public confusion Sleep came at length, but with a train has been chosen, without any purpose of combin-Of feelings true and fancies vain, ing the fable with the military or political events of the civil war, but only as affording a degree of probability to the fictitious narrative now presented to the public.

ROKEBY.

CANTO I.
I.

THE moon is in her summer glow,
But hoarse and high the breezes blow,
And, racking o'er her face, the cloud
Varies the tincture of her shroud;

On Barnard's towers,1 and Tees's stream,
She changes as a guilty dream,
When conscience, with remorse and fear,
Goads sleeping fancy's wild career.
Her light seemed now the blush of shame,
Seemed now fierce anger's darker ffame,
Shifting that shade, to come and go,
Like apprehension's hurried glow;
Then sorrow's livery dims the air,
And dies in darkness, like despair.
Such varied hues the warder sees
Reflected from the woodland Tees,
Then from old Baliol's tower looks forth,
Sees the clouds mustering in the north,
Hears, upon turret-roof and wall,
By fits the plashing rain-drop fall,
Lists to the breeze's boding sound,
And wraps his shaggy mantle round.

Mingling, in wild disorder cast,
The expected future with the past.
Conscience, anticipating time,
Already rues the unacted crime,
And calls her furies forth, to shake
The sounding scourge and hissing snake,
While her poor victim's outward throes
Bear witness to his mental woes,
And show what lesson may be read
Beside a sinner's restless bed.

III.

Thus Oswald's labouring feelings trace
Strange changes in his sleeping face,
Rapid and ominous as these

With which the moon-beams tinge the Tees.
There might be seen of shame the blush,
There anger's dark and fiercer flush,
While the perturbed sleeper's hand
Seemed grasping dagger-knife, or brand.
Relaxed that grasp, the heavy sigh,
The tear in the half-opening eye,
The pallid cheek and brow, confessed
That grief was busy in his breast;
Nor paused that mood-a sudden start
Impelled the life-blood from the heart;
Features convulsed, and mutterings dread,
Show terror reigns in sorrow's stead;
That pang the painful slumber broke,
And Oswald, with a start, awoke.

IV.

He woke, and feared again to close
His eyelids in such dire repose;
He woke, to watch the lamp, and tell
From hour to hour the castle bell,
Or listen to the owlet's cry,
Or the sad breeze that whistles by,
Or catch, by fits, the tuneless rhyme
With which the warder cheats the time,
And envying think how, when the sun
Bids the poor soldier's watch be done,
Couched on his straw, and fancy free,
He sleeps like careless infancy.

V.

Far townward sounds a distant tread,
And Oswald, starting from his bed,
Hath caught it, though no human ear,
Unsharpened by revenge and fear,
Could e'er distinguish horse's clank,
Until it reached the castle-bank.
Now nigh and plain the sound appears,
The warder's challenge now he hears.
Then clanking chains and levers tell,
That o'er the moat the drawbridge fell,
And, in the castle court below,
Voices are heard, and torches glow,
As marshalling the stranger's way,
Straight for the room where Oswald lay;
The cry was "Tidings from the host,
Of weight-a messenger comes post."
Stifling the tumult of his breast,

His answer Oswald thus expressed-
"Bring food and wine, and trim the fire;
Admit the stranger, and retire.”—

VI.

The stranger came with heavy stride;
The morion's plumes his visage hide,
And the buff coat, in ample fold,
Mantles his form's gigantic mould.3
Full slender answer deigned he
To Oswald's anxious courtesy,
But marked, by a disdainful smile,
He saw and scorned the petty wile,
When Oswald changed the torch's place,
Anxious that on the soldier's face
Its partial lustre might be thrown,
To show his looks, yet hide his own.
His guest, the while, laid slow aside
The ponderous cloak of tough bull's hide,
And to the torch glanced broad and clear
The corslet of a cuirassier.

Then from his brows the casque he drew,
And from the dank plume dashed the dew,
From gloves of mail relieved his hands,
And spread them to the kindling brands,
And, turning to the genial board,
Without a health, or pledge, or word
Of meet and social reverence said,
Deeply he drank, and fiercely fed;
As free from ceremony's sway,
As famished wolf that tears his prey.

VII.
With deep impatience, tinged with fear,
His host beheld him gorge his cheer,
And quaff the full carouse, that lent
His brow a fiercer hardiment.
Now Oswald stood a space aside,
Now paced the room with hasty stride,
In feverish agony to learn
Tidings of deep and dread concern,

Cursing each moment that his guest
Protracted o'er his ruffian feast.
Yet, viewing with alarm, at last,
The end of that uncouth repast,
Almost he seemed their haste to rue,
As, at his sign, his train withdrew,
And left him with the stranger, free
To question of his mystery.
Then did his silence long proclaim
A struggle between fear and shame.
VIII.
Much in the stranger's mien appears,
To justify suspicious fears.

On his dark face a scorching clime,
And toil, had done the work of time,
Roughened the brow, the temples bared,
And sable hairs with silver shared,
Yet left-what age alone could tame→
The lip of pride, the eye of flame,
The full-drawn lip that upward curled,
The eye, that seemed to scorn the world.
That lip had terror never blanched;
Ne'er in that eye had tear-drop quenched
The flash severe of swarthy glow,
That mocked at pain, and knew not wo;
Inured to danger's direst form,
Tornade and earthquake, flood and storm,
Death had he seen by sudden blow,
By wasting plague, by tortures slow,
By mine or breach, by steel or ball,
Knew all his shapes, and scorned them all.
IX.

But yet, though Bertram's hardened look,
Unmoved, could blood and danger brook,
Still worse than apathy had place
On his swart brow and callous face;
For evil passions, cherished long,

Had ploughed them with impressions strong.
All that gives gloss to sin, all gay
Light folly, passed with youth away,
But rooted stood, in manhood's hour,
The weeds of vice without their flower.
And yet the soil in which they grew,
Had it been tamed when life was new,
Had depth and vigour to bring forth
The hardier fruits of virtuous worth.
Not that, e'en then, his heart had known
The gentler feelings' kindlier tone;
But lavish waste had been refined
To bounty in his chastened mind,
And lust of gold, that waste to feed,
Been lost in love of glory's meed,
And, frantic then no more, his pride
Had ta'en fair virtue for its guide.

X.

E'en now, by conscience unrestrained,
Clogged by gross vice, by slaughter stained,
Still knew his daring soul to soar,

And mastery o'er the mind he bore;
For meaner guilt, or heart less hard,
Quailed beneath Bertram's bold regard.
And this felt Oswald, while in vain
He strove, by many a winding train,
To lure his sullen guest to show,
Unasked, the news he longed to know,
While on far other subject hung
His heart, than faltered from his tongue.
Yet nought for that his guest did deign
To note or spare his secret pain,
But still, in stern and stubborn sort,
Returned him answer dark and short,

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