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With beating heart to the task he went;
His sinewy frame o'er the grave-stone bent;
With bar of iron heaved amain,
Till the toil drops feh from his brows, like rain,
It was by dint of passing strength,
That he moved the massy stone at length..
I would you had been there, to see
How the light broke forth so gloriously,
Streamed upward to the chancel roof,
And through the galleries far aloof!

No earthly flame blazed e'er so bright;
It shone like hearcn's own blessed light,

And issuing from the tomb,
Shewed the monk's cowl, and visage pale,
Danced on the dark brow'd warrior's mail,

And kissed his waving plume.

Before their eyes the wizard lay,
As if he had not been dead a day.
His hoary beard in silver rolled,
He seemed some seventy winters old;

A palmer's amice wrapped him round,
With a wrought Spanish baldric bound,

Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea :
His left hand held his Book of Might;
A silver cross was in his right;

The lamp was placed beside his knee :
High and majestic was his look,
At which the fellest fends had shook,
And all unruffled was his face:-
They trusted his soul had gotten grace.

Often had William of Deloraine
Rode through the batile's bloody plain,
And trampled down the warriors slain,

And neither known remorse or awe;
Yet now remorse and awe he own'd;
His breath came thick, his head swam round.

When this strange scene of death he saw.
Bewilder'd and unnerv'd he stood,
And the priest prayed fervently, and loud:
With cyes averted prayed he;
He might not endure the sight to see,
Of the man he had lored so brotherly.


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XXI. . And when the priest his death-prayer had prayed,

Thus unto Deloraine be said:
66 Now, speed thee what thou hast to do,
Or, warrior, we may dearly rue;
For those thou may'st not look upon,
Are gathering fast round the yawning stone!"-
Then Deloraine, in terror, took
From the cold hand the Mighty Book,
With iron clasped, and with iron bound :
lle thought as he took it the dead man frowned;
But the glare of the sepulchral light,
Perchance had dazzled the warrior's sight,

XXII. When the huge stone sunk o'er the tomb, The night returned, in double gloom ; for the moon had gone down, and the stars were few; And, as the knight and the priest withdrew, With wavering steps and dizzy brain, They hardly might the postern gain. 'Tis said, as through the aisles they passed, They heard strange noises on the blast; . And through the cloister-galleries small, Which at mid-height thread the chancel wall, Loud sobs, and laughter louder, ran, And voices unlike the voice of man; As if the fiends kept holiday, Because these spells were brought to day. I cannot tell how the truth may be ; I say the tale as 'twas said to me.

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(From the Same.)

" D ISE up, rise up, now, lord Douglas," she says,

N " And put on your armour so bright, Let it never be said, that a daughter of thine

Was married to a lord under night.

" Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,

And put on your armour so bright,
And take better care of your youngest Aster,

For your eldest's awa the last night.”

He's mounted her on a milk white steed,

And himself or a dapple grey,
With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,

And lightly they rode away.

Lord William look it o'er his left shoulder,

To see what he could see,
And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold

Come riding over the lec.

“ Light down, light down, lady Marg’ret,” he said,

And hold my steed in your hand,
Until that against your sevea brethren bold,

And your father, I mak a stand.”

She held his steed in her milk-white hand,

And never shed one tear,
Until that she saw her seven brethren fa',

And her father aard fighting, who lov'd her so dear.

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* Hold up, hold up, lord William,” she says,

« For I fear that you are slain!” “ 'Tis naething but the shadow of my scarlet cloak,

That shines in the water sae plain.”

O they rade on, and on they rade,

And a' by the light of the moon,
Until they cam' to his mother's ha' door,

And there they lighted down.

" Get up, get op, lady mother," he says,

" Get up, and let me in! Get up, get up, lady mother," he says,

“ For this night my fair lady l've win.

" O mak my bed, lady mother,” he says,

"O mak it braid and deep! And lay lady Marg'ret close at my back,

And the sounder I will sleep."

Lord William was dead lang ere midnigbt,

Lady Marg'ret lang ere day
And all true lovers that go thegither,
May they have mair luck than they!

3 X 3


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