That issues at a secret spot,
By most neglected or forgot.
Now could a spial of our train
On fair pretext admittance gain,
That sally-port might be unbarred;
Then, vain were battlement and ward!"
"Now speak'st thou well;-to me the same, If force or art shall urge the game; Indifferent if like fox I wind,
Or spring like tiger on the hind.
But hark! our merry-men so gay
Troll forth another roundelay.
"A weary lot is thine, fair maid,
A weary lot is thine!
To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,
And press the rue for wine!
A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien,
A feather of the blue,
A doublet of the Lincoln green,—
No more of me you knew,
"This morn is merry June, I trow,
The rose is budding fain;
But she shall bloom in winter snow,
Ere we two meet again."
He turned his charger as he spake,
Upon the river shore,
He gave his bridle reins a shake,
Said, "Adieu for evermore,
"What youth is this your band among,
The best for minstrelsy and song?
In his wild notes seem aptly met
A strain of pleasure and regret."-
"Edmund of Winston is his name;
The hamlet sounded with the fame
Of early hopes his childhood gave,-
Now centred all in Brignal cave!
I watch him well-his wayward course
Shows oft a tincture of remorse:
Some early love-shaft grazed his heart,
And oft the scar will ache and smart.
Yet is he useful,-of the rest,
By fits the darling and the jest,
His harp, his story, and his lay,
Oft aid the idle hours away:
When unemployed, each fiery mate
Is ripe for mutinous debate.
He tuned his strings e'en now-again
He wakes them with a blither strain.
Allen-a-Dale has no faggot for burning,
Allen-a-Dale has no furrow for turning,
Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning,
Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning.
Come, read me my riddle! come hearken my tale!
And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale.
The baron of Ravensworth prances in pride,
And he views his domains upon Arkindale side,
The mere for his net, and the land for his game,
The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame;
Yet the fish of the lake, and the deer of the vale,
Are less free to lord Dacre than Allen-a-Dale!
Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight,
Though his spur be as sharp, and his blade be as bright;
Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord,
Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word;
And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail,
Who at Rere-cross on Stanemore meets Allen-a-Dale.
Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come;
The mother she asked of his house and his home: "Though the castle of Richmond stand fair on the
My hall," quoth bold Allen, "shows gallanter still;
'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so
And with all its bright spangles!" said Allen-a-Dale.
The father was steel, and the mother was stone;
They lifted the latch, and they bade him be gone;
But loud on the morrow their wail and their cry!
He had laughed on the lass with his bonny black
eye,
And she fled to the forest to hear a love-tale,
And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale.
"Thou seest that, whether sad or gay,
Love mingles ever in his lay,
But when his boyish wayward fit
Is o'er, he hath address and wit;
O! 'tis a brain of fire, can ape
Each dialect, each various shape."
"Nay, then, to aid thy project, Guy-
Soft! who comes here?"-" My trusty spy.
Speak, Hamlin! hast thou lodged our deer?"—
"I have-but two fair stags are near;
I watched her as she slowly strayed
From Eglistone up Thorsgill glade;
But Wilfrid Wycliffe sought her side,
And then young Redmond in his pride
Shot down to meet them on their way;
Much, as it seemed, was theirs to say:
There's time to pitch both toil and net,
Before their path be homeward set."
A hurried and a whispered speech Did Bertram's will to Denzil teach, Who, turning to the robber band, Bade four the bravest take the brand.
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