LADY HERON'S SONG. Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide border his steed was the best; And save his good broadsword he weapon had none, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late : 10 For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, 15 (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) “O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?" “I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ;Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide - 20 And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.” The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, 25 He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup : She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, “Now tread we a measure !” said young Lochinvar. 30 So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume.

And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; .
And the bride-maidens whispered,“'Twere betterby far35
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.".
One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood

near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 40 “She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young

Lochinvar: There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks,and Musgraves, they rode and they ran: There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lee, 45 But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?

THE MONARCH O'er the siren hung,
And beat the measure as she sung;
And, pressing closer, and more near,
He whispered praises in her ear.
In loud applause the courtiers vied ;
And ladies winked and spoke aside.
The witching dame to Marmion threw

A glance, where seemed to reign
The pride that claims applauses due,
And of her royal conquest too,

A real or feigned disdain :
Familiar was the look, and told
Marmion and she were friends of old.
The King observed their meeting eyes,
With something like displeased surprise ;
For monarchs ill can rivals brook,
Even in a word, or smile, or look.
Straight took he forth the parchment broad,


Which Marmion's high commission shewed:.. “Our borders sacked by many a raid,

Our peaceful liegemen robbed,” he said ;
« On day of truce our Warden slain,
Stout Barton killed, his vessels ta’en-
Unworthy were we here to reign,
Should these for vengeance cry in vain;
Our full defiance, hate, and scorn,
Our herald has to Henry borne.”-
He paused, and led where Douglas stood,
And with stern eye the pageant viewed:
I mean that Douglas, sixth of yore,
Who coronet of Angus bore,
And, when his blood and heart were high,
Did the Third James in camp defy,
And all his minions led to die
On Lauder's dreary flat:
Princes and favourites long grew tame,
And trembled at the homely name

Of Archibald Bell-the-Cat;
The same who left the dusky vale
Of Hermitage in Liddisdale,

Its dungeons and its towers,
Where Bothwell's turrets brave the air, 15
And Bothwell bank is blooming fair,

To fix his princely bowers.
Though now, in age, he had laid down
His armour for the peaceful gown,

And for a staff his brand,
Yet often would flash forth the fire,
That could, in youth, a monarch's ire

And minion's pride withstand ;
And even that day, at council-board,
Unapt to sooth his Sovereign's mood,
Against the war had Angus stood,

And chafed his royal Lord.

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His giant form, like ruined tower,
Though fallen its muscles' brawny vaunt,
Huge-boned, and tall, and grim, and gaunt,

Seemed o'er the gaudy scene to lower:
His locks and beard in silver grew;
His eyebrows kept their sable hue.
Near Douglas when the Monarch stood,
His bitter speech he thus pursued :-
“ Lord Marmion, since these letters say
That in the North you needs must stay,

While slightest hopes of peace remain,
Uncourteous speech it were, and stern,
To say-Return to Lindisfarne,

Until my herald come again.-
Then rest you in Tantallon Hold,
Your host shall be the Douglas bold,
A chief unlike his sires of old.
He wears their motto on his blade,
Their blazon o'er his towers displayed;
Yet loves his sovereign to oppose,
More than to face his country's foes.
And, I bethink me, by Saint Stephen,
But e'en this morn to me was given

A prize, the firstfruits of the war,

Ta'en by a galley from Dunbar,
A bevy of the maids of heaven.
Under your guard these holy maids
Shall safe return to cloister shades,
And, while they at Tantallon stay,
Requiem for Cochran's soul may say."-
And, with the slaughtered favourite's name,
Across the Monarch's brow there came
A cloud of ire, remorse, and shame.
In answer nought could Augus speak;
His proud heart swelled wellnigh to break:
He turned aside, and down his cheek




A burning tear there stole.
His hand the Monarch sudden took,
That sight his kind heart could not brook :

“Now, by the Bruce's soul,
Angus, my hasty speech forgive !
For sure as doth his spirit live,
As he said of the Douglas old,

I well may say of you,-
That never king did subject hold,
In speech more free, in war more bold,

More tender, and more true:
Forgive me, Douglas, once again.”
And, while the King his hand did strain,
The old man's tears fell down like rain.
To seize the moment Marmion tried,
And whispered to the King aside:
“ Oh! let such tears unwonted plead
For respite short from dubious deed !
A child will weep a bramble's smart,
A maid to see her sparrow part,
A stripling for a woman's heart:
But woe awaits a country, when
She sees the tears of bearded men.
Then, oh! what omen, dark and high,
When Douglas wets his manly eye!”-
DISPLEASED was James, that stranger viewed xvii
And tampered with his changing mood.
“Laugh those that can, weep those that may,"
Thus did the fiery Monarch say,
“ Southward I march by break of day;
And if within Tantallon strong,
The good Lord Marmion tarries long,
Perchance our meeting next may fall
At Tamworth, in his castle-hall.”
The haughty Marmion felt the taunt,
And answered, grave, the royal vaunt:

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