MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. THE PALMER. 66 'O, OPEN the door, some pity to show, "Keen blows the northern wind; "The glen is white with the drifted snow, "And the path is hard to find. "No Outlaw seeks your castle gate, "From chasing the King's deer, "Though even an Outlaw's wretched state "Might claim compassion here. The Ranger on his couch lay warm, But oft amid December's storm, He'll hear that voice again : For lo, when through the vapours dank, Morn shone on Ettrick fair, A corpse amid the alders rank, The Palmer welter'd there. THE MAID OF NEIDPATH. THERE is a tradition in Tweeddale, that, when Neidpath Castle, near Peebles, was inhabited by the Earls of March, a mutual passion subsisted between a daughter of that noble family, and a son of the Laird of Tushielaw, in Ettrick Forest. As the alliance was thought unsuitable by her parents, the young man went abroad. During his absence, the lady fell into a consumption; and at length, as the only means of saving her life, her father consented that her lover should be recalled. On the day when he was expected to pass through Peebles, on the road to Tushielaw, the young lady, though much exhausted, caused herself to be carried to the balcony of a house in Peebles, belonging to the family, that she might see him as he rode past. Her anxiety and eagerness gave such force to her organs, that she is said to have distinguished his horse's footsteps at an incredible distance. But Tushielaw, unprepared for the change in her appearance, and not expecting to see her |