XV. Sir David Lindesay's Tale. "Of all the palaces so fair, Built for the royal dwelling, In Scotland, far beyond compare And in its park, in jovial June, How blithe the blackbird's lay! The wild buck bells * from ferny brake, The saddest heart might pleasure take To see all nature gay. But June is to our Sovereign dear The heaviest month in all the year: Too well his cause of grief you know,— June saw his father's overthrow. Woe to the traitors, who could bring * An ancient word for the cry of deer.-See Note. The princely boy against his king! Still in his conscience burns the sting. In offices as strict as Lent, King James's June is ever spent. XVI. "When last this ruthful month was come, And in Linlithgow's holy dome The King, as wont, was praying; While, for his royal father's soul, For now the year brought round again I too was there, and, sooth to tell, Bedeafen'd with the jangling knell, Was watching where the sunbeams fell, Through the stain'd casement gleaming; But, while I mark'd what next befel, It seem'd as I were dreaming. Stepp'd from the crowd a ghostly wight, In azure gown, with cincture white; His forehead bald, his head was bare, Down hung at length his yellow hair.Now, mock me not, when, good my lord, I pledge to you my knightly word, That, when I saw his placid grace, His simple majesty of face, His solemn bearing, and his pace So stately gliding on, Seem'd to me ne'er did limner paint So just an image of the Saint, Who propp'd the Virgin in her faint, The loved Apostle John. XVII. "He stepp'd before the Monarch's chair, And stood with rustic plainness there, And little reverence made; Nor head, nor body, bow'd nor bent, And words like these he said, In a low voice,-but never tone So thrill'd through vein, and nerve, and bone :My mother sent me from afar, Sir King, to warn thee not to war,— Woe waits on thine array; If war thou wilt, of woman fair, James Stuart, doubly warn'd, beware: The wondering Monarch seem'd to seek For answer, and found none; And when he raised his head to speak, The monitor was gone. The Marshal and myself had cast To stop him as he outward past; But, lighter than the whirlwind's blast, He vanish'd from our eyes, Like sunbeam on the billow cast, That glances but, and dies." XVIII. While Lindesay told this marvel strange, The twilight was so pale, He mark'd not Marmion's colour change, While listening to the tale : But, after a suspended pause, The Baron spoke :-" Of Nature's laws So strong I held the force, That never super-human cause Could e'er controul their course; And, three days since, had judged your aim |