They were all knights of metal true, Ten of them were sheathed in steel, With corslet laced, Pillowed on buckler cold and hard; They carved at the meal With gloves of steel, And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred. Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, Why do these steeds stand ready dight? From Warkworth, or Naworth, or merry Carlisle. * What may it be, the heavy sound It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke, 66 RIVER SPIRIT. Sleep'st thou, brother?" MOUNTAIN SPIRIT. -"Brother, nay: On my hills the moon-beams play. Merry elves their morris pacing, Emerald rings on brown heath tracing, Up, and mark their nimble feet! RIVER SPIRIT. "Tears of an imprisoned maiden MOUNTAIN SPIRIT. "Arthur's slow wain his course doth roll, Shimmers through mist each planet star; SCOTT. PATRIOTISM. BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung. SCOTT. LOCHINVAR. O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, The bride had consented, the gallant came late: So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all; Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) 66 O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar? "I long wooed your daughter, my suit ye denied— The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar. So stately his form, and so lovely her face, While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, ""Twere better by far To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 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, "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar. 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, SCOTT. |