Till high Dun-edin the blazes saw, From Soltra and Dumpender Law; That all should bownet them for the Border. HE livelong night in Branksome rang The castle-bell, with backward clang, Sent forth the larum peal; Was frequent heard the heavy jar, XXXI. HE noble Dame, amid the broil, Shared the grey Seneschal's high toil, And spoke of danger with a smile; Cheer'd the young knights, and council sage Held with the chiefs of riper age. No tidings of the foe were brought, EASED the high sound-the listening throng Applaud the Master of the Song ; And guide him on the rugged way? 66 Ay, once he had-but he was dead!"- To hide the tear, that fain would fall. Canto Fourth. I. WEET Teviot! on thy silver tide The glaring bale-fires blaze no more; No longer steel-clad warriors ride Along thy wild and willow'd shore ; Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill, All, all is peaceful, all is still, As if thy waves, since Time was born, Since first they roll'd upon the Tweed, Had only heard the shepherd's reed, Nor started at the bugle-horn. II. NLIKE the tide of human time, Which, though it change in ceaseless flow, Retains each grief, retains each crime Its earliest course was doom'd to know ; And, darker as it downward bears, Is stain'd with past and present tears. Low as that tide has ebb'd with me, It still reflects to Memory's eye The hour my brave, my only boy, Fell by the side of great Dundee.f Why, when the volleying musket play'd Against the bloody Highland blade, Why was not I beside him laid!Enough he died the death of fame ; Enough he died with conquering Græme. III. OW over Border dale and fell, Full wide and far was terror spread ; And maids and matrons dropp'd the tear, eye |