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Till to her bidding she could bow

The viewless forms of air.1

And now she sits in secret bower,
In old Lord David's western tower,
And listens to a heavy sound,

That moans the mossy turrets round.
Is it the roar of Teviot's tide,

That chafes against the scaur's2 red side?
Is it the wind, that swings the oaks?
Is it the echo from the rocks?

What may it be, the heavy sound,

That moans old Branksome's turrets round?


At the sullen, moaning sound,
The ban-dogs bay and howl;
And, from the turrets round,

Loud whoops the startled owl.
In the hall, both squire and knight
Swore that a storm was near,
And looked forth to view the night;
But the night was still and clear!


From the sound of Teviot's tide,

Chafing with the mountain's side,

From the groan of the wind-swung oak,
From the sullen echo of the rock.

From the voice of the coming storm,
The Ladye knew it well!

It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke,
And he call'd on the Spirit of the Fell.

1 See Appendix, Note F.

Scaur, a precipitous bank of earth.



"Sleep'st thou, brother?"


"Brother, nay —

On my hills the moon-beams play.
From Craik-cross to Skelfhill-pen,
By every rill, in every glen,
Merry elves their morris pacing,
To aërial minstrelsy,

Emerald rings on brown heath tracing,

Trip it deft and merrily.

Up, and mark their nimble feet!
Up, and list their music sweet!".



"Tears of an imprison'd maiden
Mix with my polluted stream;
Margaret of Branksome, sorrow-laden,
Mourns beneath the moon's pale beam.
Tell me, thou, who view'st the stars,
When shall cease these feudal jars?
What shall be the maiden's fate?
Who shall be the maiden's mate?"-



"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 cach planet star; VOL. I.-5

Ill may I read their high decree !
But no kind influence deign they shower
On Teviot's tide, and Branksome's tower,
Till pride be quell'd, and love be free.”


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 throbb'd high with pride:"Your mountains shall bend,

And your streams ascend,

Ere Margaret be our foeman's bride!"


The Ladye sought the lofty hall,

Where many a bold retainer lay,
And, with jocund din, among them all,
Her son pursued his infant play.
A fancied moss-trooper,' the boy

The truncheon of a spear bestrode,

And round the hall, right merrily,

In mimic foray2 rode.

Even bearded knights, in arms grown old,
Share in his frolic gambols bore,

'See Appendix, Note G.


Foray, a predatory inroad.

The Castle Ful

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