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Well knows he then the gathering cloud

Shall all his noontide glories shroud,

Like smile of morn before the rain,

Appeared the minstrel's mounting strain.
As easy inexperienced hind,

Who sees not coming rains and wind,
The beacon of the dawning hour,

Nor notes the blink before the shower,
Astonished, 'mid his open grain,

Sees round him pour the sudden rain-
So looked the still attentive throng,
When closed at once Macfarlane's song.

Time was it when he 'gan to tell Of spectre stern, and barge of hell; Loud, and more loud, the minstrel sung; Loud, and more loud, the chords he rung; Wild grew his looks, for well he knew The scene was dread, the tale was true; And ere Loch-Ketturine's wave was won, Faultered his voice, his breath was done.

He raised his brown hand to his brow,

To veil his eye's enraptured glow;

Flung back his locks of silver gray,
Lifted his crutch, and limped away.

The Bard of Clyde stepped next in view;
Tall was his form, his harp was new;
Brightened his dark eye as he sung;
A stammer fluttered on his tongue ;

A captain in the wars was he,
And sprung of noble pedigree.

Earl Walter.

THE TWELFTH BARD'S SONG.

"What makes Earl Walter pace the wood

In the wan light of the moon?

Why altered is Earl Walter's mood

So strangely, and so soon?"

"It is his lot to fight a knight

Whom man could never tame,

To-morrow, in his Sovereign's sight,

Or bear perpetual shame."

"Go warn the Clyde, go warn the Ayr,

Go warn them suddenly,

If none will fight for Earl Walter,
Some one may fight for me."

"Now hold your tongue, my daughter dear, Now hold your tongue for shame!

For never shall my son Walter

Disgrace his father's name.

"Shall ladies tell, and minstrels sing,

How lord of Scottish blood,

By proxy fought before his king?

No, never! by the rood!"

Earl Walter rose ere it was day,

For battle made him boun';

Earl Walter mounted his bonny gray,
And rode to Stirling town.

Old Hamilton from the tower came down,

"Go saddle a steed for me,

And I'll away to Stirling town,
This deadly bout to see.

"Mine eye is dim, my locks are gray, My cheek is furred and wan;

Ah, me! but I have seen the day

I feared not single man!

"Bring me my steed," said Hamilton;

"Darcie his vaunts may rue;

Whoever slays my only son

Must fight the father too.

"Whoever fights my noble son

May foin the best he can; Whoever braves Wat Hamilton,

Shall know he braves a man.".

And there was riding in belt and brand,
And running o'er holt and lea!

For all the lords of fair Scotland
Came there the fight to see.

And squire, and groom, and baron bold, Trooping in thousands came,

And many a hind, and warrior old,

And many a lovely dame.

When good Earl Walter rode the ring,

Upon his mettled gray,

There was none so ready as our good king

To bid that Earl good day.

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