And Grampian mountains, frowning high,

Seemed froze amid the northern sky.

The frame was braced, the mind set free

To feat, or brisk hilarity.

The sun, far on his southern throne,
Glowed in stern majesty alone:

'Twas like the loved, the toilsome day,
That dawns on mountains west away,
When the furred Indian hunter hastes
Far up his Appalachian wastes,

Το range the savage haunts, and dare

In his dark home the sullen bear.

And ere that noonday-sun had shone Right on the banks of Duddingston, Heavens! what a scene of noise and glee, And busy brisk anxiety!

There age and youth their pastime take On the smooth ice that chains the lake. The Highland chief, the Border knight, In waving plumes, and baldricks bright,

Join in the bloodless friendly war,
The sounding-stone to hurl afar.

The hair-breadth aim, the plaudits due,
The rap, the shout, the ardour grew,
Till drowsy day her curtain drew.

The youth, on cramps of polished steel, Joined in the race, the curve, the wheel; With arms outstretched, and foot aside, Like lightning o'er the lake they glide; And eastward far their impulse keep, Like angels journeying o'er the deep.

When night her spangled flag unfurled Wide o'er a wan and sheeted world, In keen debate homeward they hie, For well they knew the Wake was nigh.

"

By mountain sheer, and column tall, How solemn was that evening fall! The air was calm, the stars were bright, The hoar frost flightered down the night;

:

But oft the list'ning groups stood still,

For spirits talked along the hill.
The fairy tribes had gone to won
In southland climes beneath the sun;
By shady woods, and waters sheen,
And vales of everlasting green,

To sing of Scotia's woodlands wild,
Where human face had never smiled.
The ghost had left the haunted yew,
The wayward bogle fled the clough,
The darksome pool of crisp and foam
Was now no more the kelpies' home:
But polar spirits sure had spread
O'er hills which native fays had fled;
For all along, from cliff and tree,
On Arthur's hill, and Salisbury,

Came voices floating down the air

From viewless shades that lingered there:
The words were fraught with mystery;

Voices of men they could not be.
Youths turned their faces to the sky,

With beating heart, and bended eye;

Old chieftains walked with hastened tread,

Loath that their hearts should bow to dread.

They feared the spirits of the hill

To sinful Scotland boded ill.

Orion up his baldrick drew,

The evening star was still in view,
Scarce had the Pleiades cleared the main,

Or Charles reyoked his golden wain,
When from the palace-turrets rang
The bugle's note with warning clang;
Each tower, each spire, in music spake,
"Haste, nobles, to Queen Mary's Wake."
The blooming maid ran to bedight,
In spangled lace, and robe of white,
That graceful emblem of her youth,
Of guileless heart, and maiden truth.
The matron decked her candid frame
In moony broach, and silk of flame;
Earl and Baron bold

And every

Sparkled in clasp and loop of gold.

'Twas the last night of hope and fear,

That bards could sing, or Sovereign hear;

And just ere rose the Christmas sun,

The envied prize was lost and won.

The bard that night who foremost came

Was not enrolled, nor known his name;

A youth he was of manly mold,

Gentle as lamb, as lion bold;

But his fair face, and forehead high,
Glowed with intrusive modesty.

"Twas said by bank of southland stream Glided his youth in soothing dream; The harp he loved, and wont to stray Far to the wilds and woods away,

And sing to brooks that gurgled bye

Of maiden's form and maiden's eye;
That, when this dream of youth was past,

Deep in the shade his harp he cast;