Up, and mark their nimble feet! Up, and list their music sweet!" XVI. River Spirit. "Tears of an imprisoned maiden Mix with my polluted stream; Margaret of Branksome, sorrow-laden, Mourns beneath the moon's pale beam. Tell me, thou, who viewest the stars, When shall cease these feudal jars? What shall be the maiden's fate? Who shall be the maiden's mate ?" XVII. Mountain Spirit. "Arthur's slow wain his course doth roll, In utter darkness, round the pole ; The Northern Bear lowers black and grim; Orion's studded belt is dim; Twinkling faint, and distant far, Shimmers through mist each planet star; Till pride be quelled, and love be free." XVIII. The unearthly voices ceast, And the heavy sound was still; It died on the river's breast, It died on the side of the hill. But round Lord David's tower The sound still floated near; For it rung in the Ladye's bower, And it rung in the Ladye's ear. She raised her stately head, And her heart throbbed high with pride: "Your mountains shall bend, And your streams ascend, Ere Margaret be our foeman's bride !" XIX. The Ladye sought the lofty hall, A fancied moss-trooper, the boy The truncheon of a spear bestrode, And round the hall, right merrily, In mimic foray* rode. Even bearded knights, in arms grown old, Albeit their hearts, of rugged mould, For the gray warriors prophesied, How the brave boy, in future war, Should tame the Unicorn's pride, Exalt the Crescents and the Star. + *Foray, a predatory inroad. † Alluding to the armorial bearings of the Scotts and Cars. XX. The Ladye forgot her purpose high, One moment, and no more; One moment gazed with a mother's eye, Then, from amid the armed train, She called to her William of Deloraine. XXI. A stark moss-trooping Scott was he, As e'er couched border lance by knee : Through Solway sands, through Tarras moss, Blindfold, he knew the paths to cross; By wily turns, by desperate bounds, Had baffled Percy's best blood-hounds; In Eske, or Liddel, fords were none, Alike to him was time or tide, Alike to him was tide, or time, Moonless midnight, or matin prime : Steady of heart, and stout of hand, By England's king, and Scotland's queen. XXII. "Sir William of Deloraine, good at need, Mount thee on the wightest steed; Spare not to spur, nor stint to ride, Until thou come to fair Tweedside; And in Melrose's holy pile Seek thou the Monk of St Mary's aisle. Say, that the fated hour is come, And to-night he shall watch with thee, For this will be St Michael's night, And, though stars be dim, the moon is bright; And the Cross, of bloody red, Will point to the grave of the mighty dead. |