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If thou readest, thou art lorn!
Better hadst thou ne'er been born!”

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“ SWIFTLY can speed my dapple

en grey steed, Which drinks of the Teviot clear ; Ere break of day,” the Warrior 'gan say,

“ Again will I be here : And safer by none may thy errand be done,

Than, noble dame, by me;
Letter nor line know I never a one,

Wer't my neck-verse at Hairibee." +

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M OON in his saddle sate he fast,

And soon the steep descent he past, Soon cross'd the sounding barbican,t And soon the Teviot side he won. Eastward the wooded path he rode, Green hazels o'er his basnet nod; He pass’d the Peelt of Goldiland, And cross'd old Borthwick's roaring strand; Dimly he view'd the Moat-hill's inound, Where Druid shades still flitted round:

In Hawick twinkled many a light;
Behind him soon they set in night ;
And soon he spurr'd his courser keen
Beneath the tower of Hazeldean.

XXVI.
HE clattering hoofs the watchmen

mark ;“Stand, ho ! thou courier of the dark.” — “For Branksome, ho !” the knight rejoin'd, And left the friendly tower behind. He turn'd him now from Teviotside,

And, guided by the tinkling rill, Northward the dark ascent did ride,

And gained the moor at Horsliehill ; Broad on the left before him lay, For many a mile, the Roman way.t

XXVII. a MOMENT now he slack'd his speed,

a A moment breathed his panting steed; Drew saddle-girth and corslet-band, And loosen'd in the sheath his brand, On Minto-crags the moon-beams glint, Where Barnhill hew'd his bed of flin' ;

Who flung his outlaw'd limbs to rest,
Where falcons hang their giddy nest,
Mid cliffs, from whence his eagle eye
For many a league his prey could spy ;
Cliffs, doubling, on their echoes borne,
The terrors of the robber's horn ;
Cliffs, which, for many a later year,
The warbling Doric reed shall hear,
When some sad swain shall teach the grove,
Ambition is no cure for love !

XXVIII. HINCHALLENGED, thence pass'd Delo.

e raine, To ancient Riddel's fair domain.

Where Aill, from mountains freed,
Down from the lakes did raving come;
Each wave was crested with tawny foam,

Like the mane of a chestnut steed.
In vain ! no torrent, deep or broad,
Might bar the bold moss-trooper's road.

xxix.
at the first plunge the horse sunk low,

And the water broke o'er the saddle-bow

Above the foaming tide, I ween,
Scarce half the charger's neck was seen ;
For he was barbed from counter to tail,
And the rider was armed complete in mail ;
Never heavier man and horse
Stemm'd a midnight torrent's force.
The warrior's very plume, I say,
Was daggled by the dashing spray ;
Yet, through good heart, and Our Ladye's

grace,
At length he gaind the landing place.

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And sternly shook his plumed head,
As glanced his eye o'er Halidon ;t

For on his soul the slaughter red
Of that unhallow'd morn arose,
When first the Scott and Carr were foes
When royal James beheld the fray,
Prize to the victor of the day ;
When Home and Douglas, in the van,
Bore down Buccleuch's retiring clan,

Till gallant Cessford's heart-blood dear
Reek'd on dark Elliot's Border spear.

. XXXI.
SAN bitter mood he spurred fast,
ad And soon the hated heath was past;
And far beneath, in lustre wan,
Old Melros' rose, and fair Tweed ran :-
Like some tall rock with lichens grey,
Seem'd dimly huge, the dark Abbaye.
When Hawick he pass'd, had curfew rung,
Now midnight lauds were in Melrose sung.
The sound, upon the fitful gale,
In solemn wise did rise and fail,
Like that wild harp, whose magic tone
Is waken’d by the winds alone.
But when Melrose he reach'd, 'twas silence

all; He meetly stabled his steed in stall, And sought the convent's lonely wall.

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