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Here while they dwelt, did Lindesay's wit
Oft cheer the Baron's moodier fit;
And, in his turn, he knew to prize
Lord Marmion's powerful mind and wise-
Trained in the lore of Rome and Greece,
And policies of war and peace.
It chanced, as fell the second night,

That on the battlements they walked, And, by the slowly fading light,

Of varying topics talked ;
And, unaware, the Herald-bard
Said Marmion might his toil have spared,

In travelling so far;
For that a messenger from heaven
In vain to James had counsel given

Against the English war:
And, closer questioned, thus he told
A tale, which chronicles of old
In Scottish story have enrolled :

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" Of all the palaces so fair,

Built for the royal dwelling,
* In Scotland, far beyond compare

Linlithgow is excelling;
And in its park, in jovial June,
How sweet the merry linnet's tune,
How blithe the blackbird's lay!
The wild buck bells from ferny brake,
The coot dives merry on the lake,
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
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.

" 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
The chanters sung, the bells did toll,

The Bishop mass was saying-
For now the year brought round again
The day the luckless king was slain-

In Katharine's aisle the Monarch knelt,
With sackcloth shirt, and iron belt,

And eyes with sorrow streaming ;

Around him, in their stalls of state,
The Thistle's Knight-Companions sate,

Their banners o'er them beaming.
I too was there, and, sooth to tell,
Bedeafened with the jangling knell,
Was watching where the sunbeams fell,

Through the stained casement gleaming ; But, while I marked what next befell,

It seemed as I were dreaming.
Stepped 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 ;
Seemed to me ne'er did limner paint
So just an image of the saint,
Who propped the Virgin in her faint, —

The loved Apostle John.

“ He stepped before the Monarch's chair, And stood with rustic plainness there,

And little reverence made;

Nor head, nor body, bowed nor bent,
But on the desk his arm he leant,

And words like these he said,
In a low voice,--but never tone
So thrilled 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,
Her witching wiles and wanton snare,
James Stuart, doubly warned, beware :

God keep thee as He may !'-
The wondering Monarch seemed 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 passed ;
But, lighter than the whirlwind's blast,

He vanished from our eyes,
Like sunbeam on the billow cast,

That glances but, and dies.”

While Lindesay told this marvel strange,

The twilight was so pale,
He marked not Marmion's colour change,

While listening to the tale :

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