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

66

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.

For one so gallant and so young,

Oh, many a heart beat high; And no fair eye in all the throng, Nor rosy cheek, was dry.

But up then spoke the king's daughter, Fair Margaret was her name

"If we should lose brave Earl Walter,

My sire is sore to blame.

"Forbid the fight, my liege, I pray,

Upon my bended knee.”—

"Daughter, I'm loth to say you nay;

It cannot, must not be.”—

“Proclaim it round," the princess cried,

"Proclaim it suddenly;

If none will fight for Earl Walter,

Some one may fight for me.

"In Douglas-dale I have a tower,

With many a holm and hill,

I'll give them all, and ten times more, To him will Darcie kill.".

But up then spoke old Hamilton,
And doffed his bonnet blue;

In his sunk eye the tear-drop shone,
And his gray locks o'er it flew :-

"Cease, cease, thou lovely royal maid, Small cause hast thou for pain;

Wat Hamilton shall have no aid

'Gainst lord of France or Spain.

"I love my boy; but should he fly,

Or other for him fight,

Heaven grant that first his parent's eye

May set in endless night !”—

Young Margaret blushed, her weeping staid,

And quietly looked on:

Now Margaret was the fairest maid

On whom the daylight shone.

Her eye was like the star of love,

That blinks across the evening dun; The locks that waved that eye above,

Like light clouds curling round the sun,

When Darcie entered in the ring,

A shudder round the circle flew :

Like men who from a serpent spring,
They startled at the view.

His look so fierce, his crest so high,

His belts and bands of gold,

And the glances of his charger's eye

Were dreadful to behold.

M