THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Walter Scott

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       Car’d not to face the Ladye sage.

       He counterfeited childish fear

       And shriekd, and shed full many tear,

       And moan’d and plain’d in manner wild.

       The attendants to the Ladye told

       Some fairy, sure, had chang’d the child,

       That wont to be so free and bold.

       Then wrathful was the noble dame;

       She blush’d blood-red for very shame:

       “Hence! ere the clan his faintness view;

       Hence with the weakling to Buccleuch!

       Watt Tinlinn, thou shalt be his guide

       To Rangleburn s lonely side.

       Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line

       That coward should e’er be son of mine!”

       XV

      A heavy task Watt Tinlinn had,

       To guide the counterfeited lad.

       Soon as the palfrey felt the wight

       Of that ill-omen’d elfish freight,

       He bolted, sprung, and rear’d amain,

       Nor heeded bit nor curb, nor rein.

       It cost Watt Tinlinn mickle toil

       To drive him but a Scottish mile;

       But as a shallow brook they cross’d,

       The elf, amid the running stream,

       His figure chang’d, like form in dream,

       And fled, and shouted, “Lost! lost! lost!”

       Full fast the urchin ran and laugh’d,

       But faster still a clothyard shaft

       Whistled from startled Tinlinn’s yew

       And pierc’d his shoulder through and through.

       Although the imp might not be slain,

       And though the wound soon heal’d again

       Yet, as he ran, he yell’d for pain;

       And Wat of Tinlinn, much aghast,

       Rode back to Branksome fiery fast.

       XVI

      Soon on the hill’s steep verge he stood,

       That looks o’er Branksome’s towers and wood;

       And martial murmurs, from below,

       Proclaim’d the approaching southern foe.

       Through the dark wood, in mingled tone,

       Were Border pipes and bugles blown;

       The coursers’ neighing he could ken,

       A measured tread of marching men;

       While broke at times the solemn hum

       The Almayn’s sullen kettledrum;

       And banners tall of crimson sheen

       Above the copse appear;

       And, glistening through the hawthorns green,

       Shine helm, and shield, and spear.

       XVII

      Light forayers, first, to view the ground,

       Spurr’d their fleet coursers loosely round;

       Behind, in close array, and fast,

       The Kendal archers, all in green,

       Obedient to the bugle blast,

       Advancing from the wood were seen.

       To back and guard the archer band,

       Lord Dacre’s billmen were at hand:

       A hardy race on Irthing bred,

       With kirtles white, and crosses red,

       Array’d beneath the banner tall,

       That stream’d o’er Acre’s conquer’d wall;

       And minstrels, as they march’d in order,

       Play’d “Noble Lord Dacre, he dwells on the Border.”

       XVIII

      Behind the English bill and bow,

       The mercenaries, firm and slow,

       Moved on to fight, in dark array,

       By Conrad led of Wolfenstein,

       Who brought the band from distant Rhine,

       And sold their blood for foreign pay.

       The camp their home, their law the sword,

       They knew no country, own’d no lord :

       They were not arm’d like England’s sons,

       But bore the levin-darting guns;

       Buff coats, all frounc’d and ‘broider’d o’er,

       And morsing-horns and scarfs they wore;

       Each better knee was bared, to aid

       The warriors in the escalade;

       All as they march’d, in rugged tongue,

       Songs of Teutonic feuds they sung.

       XIX

      But louder still the clamour grew,

       And louder still the minstrels blew,

       When fom beneath the greenwood tree,

       Rode forth Lord Howard’s chivalry;

       His men-at-arms, with glaive and spear,

       Brought up the battle’s glittenng rear.

       There many a youthful knight, full keen

       To gain his spurs, in arms was seen;

       With favor in his crest, or glove,

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