XXV.

Soon in his saddle sate he fast,
And soon the steep descent he past;
Soon crossed the sounding barbican *,
And soon the Teviot side he won.
Eastward the wooded path he rode;
Green hazels o'er his basnet nod:

He passed the Peel† of Goldiland,

And crossed old Borthwick's roaring strand;
Dimly he viewed the Moat-hill's mound,
Where Druid shades still flitted round:
In Hawick twinkled many a light;
Behind him soon they set in night;
And soon he spurred his courser keen
Beneath the tower of Hazeldean.

XXVI.

The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark;

66

Stand, ho! thou courier of the dark."

Barbican, the defences of the outer gate of a feudal castle. † Peel, a Border tower.

D

"For Branksome, ho!" the knight rejoined,
And left the friendly tower behind.

He turned 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*.

XXVII.

A moment now he slacked his speed,
A moment breathed his panting steed;
Drew saddle-girth and corslet-band,
And loosened in the sheath his brand.
On Minto-crags the moon-beams glint,
Where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint;
Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest,
Where falcons hang their giddy nest,
Mid cliffs from whence his eagle eye,
For many a league, his prey could spy;

* An ancient Roman road, crossing through part of Roxburghshire.

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.

Unchallenged, thence past Deloraine,
To ancient Riddell'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 chesnut 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 barded* from counter to tail,

And the rider was armed complete in mail;
Never heavier man and horse

Stemmed 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 gained the landing place.

XXX.

Now Bowden Moor the march-man won,

And sternly shook his plumed head,

As glanced his eye o'er Halidont;

For on his soul the slaughter red,

*Barded, or barbed, applied to a horse accoutred with defensive armour.

↑ Halidon-hill, on which the battle of Melrose was fought.

Of that unhallowed morn arose,

When first the Scott and Car 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
Reeked on dark Elliot's Border spear.

XXXI.

In bitter mood he spurred fast,
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 gray,
Seemed, dimly huge, the dark Abbaye.
When Hawick he passed, had curfew rung,
Now midnight lauds* were in Melrose sung.

* Lauds, the midnight service of the Catholic church.