That lady sat in mournful mood; Looked over hill and dale; Over Tweed's fair flood, and Mertoun's wood, "Now hail, now hail, thou lady bright!" What news, what news, from Ancram fight? "The Ancram Moor is red with gore, For many a southern fell; And Buccleuch has charged us, evermore The lady blushed red, but nothing she said; Nor added the Baron a word: Then she stepped down the stair to her chamber fair, And so did her moody lord. In sleep the lady mourned, and the Baron tossed and turned, And oft to himself he said "The worms around him creep, and his bloody grave is deep.... It cannot give up the dead!" It was near the ringing of matin-bell, The lady looked through the chamber fair, And she was aware of a knight stood there "Alas! away, away!" she cried, "For the holy Virgin's sake!" "Lady, I know who sleeps by thy side; But, lady, he will not awake. "By Eildon-tree, for long nights three, In bloody grave have I lain; The mass and the death-prayer are said for me, But, lady, they are said in vain. "By the Baron's brand, near Tweed's fair strand, Most foully slain I fell; And my restless sprite on the beacon's height, For a space is doomed to dwell. "At our trysting-place, for a certain space, I must wander to and fro; But I had not had power to come to thy bower, Had'st thou not conjured me so." Love mastered fear her brow she crossed; "Who spilleth life, shall forfeit life, So bid thy lord believe: That lawless love is guilt above, This awful sign receive." He laid his left hand on an oaken beam; The lady shrunk, and fainting sunk, The sable score, of fingers four, There is a Nun in Dryburgh bower, There is a Monk in Melrose tower, That Nun, who ne'er beholds the day, 1 CADYOW CASTLE. WHEN princely Hamilton's abode Then, thrilling to the harp's gay sound, But Cadyow's towers, in ruins laid, Yet still, of Cadyow's faded fame, For thou, from scenes of courtly pride, From pleasure's lighter scenes canst turn, To draw oblivion's pall aside, And mark the long-forgotten urn. Then, noble maid! at thy command, The past returns the present flies. Where with the rock's wood-covered side And feudal banners flaunt between : Where the rude torrent's brawling course "Tis night the shade of keep and spire And on the wave the warder's fire Fades slow their light; the east is gray; The draw-bridge falls they hurry out Urge the shy steed, and slack the rein. First of his troop, the Chief rode on: His shouting merry-men throng behind; The steed of princely Hamilton Was fleeter than the mountain wind. From the thick copse the roe-bucks bound, Has roused their mountain haunts again. |