"I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ; The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,— So stately his form, and so lovely her face, While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, 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! "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar. Lady Heron's Song. 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, 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 syren hung, A real or feigned disdain: Marmion and she were friends of old. For monarchs ill can rivals brook, Even in a word, or smile, or look. "Our Borders sacked by many a raid, Our peaceful liegemen robbed," he said; "On day of truce our Warden slain, Stout Barton killed, his vassals ta'enUnworthy were we here to reign, Should these for vengeance cry in vain; Our full defiance, hate, and scorn, Our herald has to Henry borne." Tantallon Castle. BUT scant three miles the band had rode, When o'er a height they passed, And, sudden, close before them showed His towers, Tantallon vast: Broad, massive, high, and stretching far, And held impregnable in war. On a projecting rock they rose, And round three sides the ocean flows; The fourth did battled walls enclose, And double mound and fosse. By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong, Here was square keep, there turret high, Or pinnacle that sought the sky, Whence oft the Warder could descry I said, Tantallon's dizzy steep Hung o'er the margin of the deep. Many a rude tower and rampart there Which, when the tempest vexed the sky, Did o'er its Gothic entrance bear, A parapet's embattled row Did seaward round the castle go; Sometimes in narrow circuit bending, And bastion, tower, and vantage-coign; The far-projecting battlement; The billows burst, in ceaseless flow, Upon the precipice below. Where'er Tantallon faced the land, Gate-works, and walls, were strongly manned; |