What plumage wav'd the altar round, How spurs and ringing chainlets sound; And hard it were for bard to speak The changeful hue of Margaret's cheek That lovely hue which comes and flies As awe and shame alternate rise! V. Some bards have sung the Ladye high Chapel or altar came not nigh; O'er sprites in planetary hour: Who tamper with such dangerous art. The Ladye by the altar stood; And on her head a crimson hood, VI. The spousal rites were ended soon: And cygnet from St. Mary's wave; Then rose the riot and the din, Rung trumpet, shalm, and psaltery: Their clanging bowls old warriors quaff'd, Loudly they spoke, and loudly laugh'd; Whisper'd young knights, in tone more mild, To ladies fair, and ladies smil'd. The hooded hawks, high perch'd on beam, The clamour join'd with whistling scream, And flapp'd their wings, and shook their bells In concert with the stag-hounds' yells. Their tasks the busy sewers ply, VII. The Goblin Page, omitting still Strove now, while blood ran hot and high, To rouse debate and jealousy ; And now in humour highly cross'd About some steeds his band had lost, High words to words succeeding still, Smote with his gauntlet stout Hunthill A hot and hardy Rutherford, Whom men called Dickon Draw-the. sword. He took it on the page's saye, Hunthill had driven these steeds away. Then Howard, Home, and Douglas rose, The kindling discord to compose: Long after rued that bodkin's point. The startled yeoman swore spurn'd, The dwarf, who fear'd his master's eye And board and flagons overturn'd. Revell'd as merrily and well A deep carouse to yon fair bride!' While shout the riders every one; Such day of mirth ne'er cheer'd their clan, Since old Buccleuch the name did gain, When in the cleuch the buck was ta'en. IX. The wily page, with vengeful thought, That ever he the arrow drew. Riot and clamour wild began; X. By this, the Dame, lest farther fray The Minstrel of that ancient name : Within the Land Debateable; their broth, In Scotland and in England both. XI. ALBERT GRÆME. It was an English ladye bright, And she would marry a Scottish For Love will still be lord of all. |