Nor durst light Paridel advance, Bold as he was, a looser glance, She charmed, at once, and tamed the heart, Incomparable Britomarte! So thou, fair City! disarrayed Of battled wall, and rampart's aid, As stately seem'st, but lovelier far Nor deem that from thy fenceless throne Still, as of yore, Queen of the North! Still canst thou send thy children forth. Ne'er readier at alarm-bell's call Thy burghers rose to man thy wall, Than now, in danger, shall be thine, For fosse and turret proud to stand, Their breasts the bulwarks of the land. Thy thousands, trained to martial toil, Ere from thy mural crown there fell And if it come,—as come it may, Dun-Edin! that eventful day, Renowned for hospitable deed, That virtue much with heaven may plead, Descending angels deigned to share; That claim may wrestle blessings down On those who fight for the Good Town, Destined in every age to be Refuge of injured royalty; Since first, when conquering York arose, To Henry meek she gave repose, Till late, with wonder, grief, and awe, Great Bourbon's reliques, sad she saw. Truce to these thoughts!-for, as they rise, How gladly I avert mine eyes, Bodings, or true or false, to change, For Fiction's fair romantic range, Or for Tradition's dubious light, That hovers 'twixt the day and night: Dazzling alternately and dim, Her wavering lamp I'd rather trim, Knights, squires, and lovely dames to see, Creation of my fantasy, Then gaze abroad on reeky fen, And make of mists invading men.— Who loves not more the night of June Than dull December's gloomy noon? The moonlight than the fog of frost? And can we say, which cheats the most? But who shall teach my harp to gain A sound of the romantic strain, Could win the Second Henry's ear, Famed Beauclerc called, for that he loved The minstrel, and his lay approved? Who shall these lingering notes redeem, Decaying on Oblivion's stream; Such notes as from the Breton tongue The weapon from his hand could wring, And break his glass, and shear his wing, And bid, reviving in his strain, The gentle poet live again; Thou, who canst give to lightest lay An unpedantic moral gay, Nor less the dullest theme bid flit On wings of unexpected wit; In letters as in life approved, Example honoured, and beloved,— A lesson of thy magic art, To win at once the head and heart,At once to charm, instruct, and mend, My guide, my pattern, and my friend! Such minstrel lesson to bestow Be long thy pleasing task,-but, O! No more by thy example teach What few can practice, all can preach; Lingering disease, and painful cure, And boast affliction's pangs subdued By mild and manly fortitude. Enough, the lesson has been given : Forbid the repetition, Heaven! Come listen, then! for thou hast known, And loved, the Minstrel's varying tone; Who, like his Border sires of old, Waked a wild measure, rude and bold, Achievements on the storied pane, |