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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519722" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Ride to Melrose, from The Lay of the Last Minstrel.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">CANTO I.XIX.<br> The Lady sought the lofty hall,<br> Where many a bold retainer lay,<br> And with jocund din among them all,<br> Her son pursued his infant play.<br> A fancied moss-trooper, the boy<br> The truncheon of a spear bestrode,<br> And round the hall right merrily<br> In mimic foray rode.<br> Even bearded knights, in arms grown old,<br> Share in his frolic gambols bore,<br> Albeit their hearts of rugged mould<br> Were stubborn as the steel they wore.<br> For the gray warriors prophesied<br> How the brave boy, in future war,<br> Should tame the Unicorn's pride,<br> Exalt the Crescent and the Star.XX.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The Ladye forgot her purpose high <br> One moment and no more;<br> One moment gazed with a mother's eye, <br> As she paused at the arched door:<br> Then from amid the armed train,<br> She called to her William of Deloraine.XXI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> A stark moss-trooping Scott was he<br> As e'er couch'd Border lance by knee:<br> Through Solway sands, through Tarras moss,<br> Blindfold he knew the paths to cross;<br> By wily turns, by desperate bounds,<br> Had baffled Percy's best blood-hounds;<br> In Eske or Liddel, fords were none,<br> But he would ride them, one by one;<br> Alike to him was time or tide,<br> December's snow or July's pride;<br> Alike to him was tide or time,<br> Moonless midnight or matin prime:<br> Steady of heart and stout of hand<br> As ever drove prey from Cumberland; <br> Five times outlawed had he been <br> By England's King and Scotland's Queen.XXII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 'Sir William of Deloraine, good at need, <br> Mount thee on the wightest steed; <br> Spare not to spur, nor stint to ride, <br> Until thou come to fair Tweedside; <br> And in Melrose's holy pile <br> Seek thou the Monk of St. Mary's aisle.<br> Greet the father well from me;<br> Say that the fated hour is come,<br> And to-night he shall watch with thee,<br> To win the treasure of the tomb:<br> For this will be St. Michael's night,<br> And, though stars be dim, the moon is bright;<br> And the Cross of bloody red<br> Will point to the grave of the mighty dead.XXIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 'What he gives thee, see thou keep;<br> Stay not thou for food or sleep:<br> Be it scroll or be it book,<br> Into it, knight, thou must not look;<br> If thou readest, thou art lorn!<br> Better hadst thou ne'er been born.'XXIV.<br> 'O swiftly can speed my dapple-gray steed,<br> Which drinks of the Teviot clear;<br> Ere break of day,' the warrior 'gan say,<br> 'Again will I be here:<br> And safer by none may thy errand be done,<br> Than, noble dame, by me;<br> Letter nor line know I never a one,<br> Were't my neck-verse at Hairibee.'XXV. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Soon in his saddle sate he fast, <br> And soon the steep descent he past, <br> Soon cross'd the sounding barbican, <br> And soon the Teviot side he won. <br> Eastward the wooded path he rode, <br> Green hazels o'er his basnet nod; <br> He pass'd the Peel of Goldiland, <br> And cross'd old Borthwick's roaring strand; <br> Dimly he view'd the Moat-hill's mound, <br> Where Druid shades still flitted round: <br> In Hawick twinkled many a light;<br> Behind him soon they set in night; <br> And soon he spurr'd his courser keen <br> Beneath the tower of Hazeldean.XXVI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark: <br> 'Stand, ho! thou courier of the dark.' <br> 'For Branksome, ho!' the knight rejoin'd, <br> And left the friendly tower behind.<br> He turned him now from Teviotside,<br> And, guided by the tinkling rill,<br> Northward the dark ascent did ride,<br> And gained the moor at Horsliehill; <br> Broad on the left before him lay, <br> For many a mile, the Roman way.XXVII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> A moment now he slack'd his speed,<br> A moment breathed his panting steed;<br> Drew saddle-girth and corslet-band,<br> And loosen'd in the sheath his brand.<br> On Minto-crags the moonbeams glint,<br> Where Barnhill hew'd his bed of flint,<br> Who flung his outlaw'd limbs to rest <br> Where falcons hang their giddy nest, <br> Mid cliffs from whence his eagle eye <br> For many a league his prey could spy; <br> Cliffs doubling, on their echoes borne, <br> The terrors of the robber's horn; <br> Cliffs, which for many a later year <br> The warbling Doric reed shall hear, <br> When some sad swain shall teach the grove, <br> Ambition is no cure for love.XXVIII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Unchallenged, thence pass'd Deloraine<br> To ancient Riddel's fair domain,<br> Where Aill, from mountains freed,<br> Down from the lakes did raving come;<br> Each wave was crested with tawny foam,<br> Like the mane of a chestnut steed. <br> In vain! no torrent, deep or broad, <br> Might bar the bold moss-trooper's road.XXIX. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> At the first plunge the horse sunk low, <br> And the water broke o'er the saddlebow; <br> Above the foaming tide, I ween, <br> Scarce half the charger's neck was seen: <br> For he was barded from counter to tail, <br> And the rider was armed complete in mail; <br> Never heavier man and horse <br> Stemm'd a midnight torrent's force. <br> The warrior's very plume, I say, <br> Was daggled by the dashing spray: <br> Yet, through good heart and Our Ladye's grace, <br> At length he gain'd the landing-place.XXX</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Now Bowden Moor the march-man won,<br> And sternly shook his plumed head,<br> As glanced his eye o'er Halidon:<br> For on his soul the slaughter red<br> Of that unhallow'd morn arose,<br> When first the Scott and Carr were foes;<br> When royal James beheld the fray,<br> Prize to the victor of the day;<br> When Home and Douglas in the van<br> Bore down Buccleuch's retiring clan,<br> Till gallant Cessford's heart-blood dear<br> Reek'd on dark Elliot's Border spear.XXXI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> In bitter mood he spurred fast,<br> And soon the hated heath was past:<br> And far beneath, in lustre wan,<br> Old Melros' rose, and fair Tweed ran:<br> Like some tall rock with lichens gray,<br> Seem'd dimly huge, the dark Abbaye.<br> When Hawick he pass'd, had curfew rung,<br> Now midnight lauds were in Melrose sung.<br> The sound upon the fitful gale<br> In solemn wise did rise and fail,<br> Like that wild harp whose magic tone<br> Is waken'd by the winds alone.<br> But when Melrose he reach'd, 'twas silence all:<br> He meetly stabled his steed in stall,<br> And sought the convent's lonely wall.CANTO II.I. <br> If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, <br> <br> Go visit it by the pale moonlight; <br> <br> For the gay beams of lightsome day <br> <br> Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray. <br> <br> When the broken arches are black in night, <br> <br> And each shafted oriel glimmers white; <br> <br> When the cold light's uncertain shower <br> <br> Streams on the ruin'd central tower; <br> <br> When buttress and buttress, alternately, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Seem framed of ebon and ivory; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When silver edges the imagery, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When distant Tweed is heard to rave, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Then go--but go alone the while-- <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Then view St. David's ruin'd pile; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And, home returning, soothly swear, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Was never scene so sad and fair!II. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Short halt did Deloraine make there;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Little reck'd he of the scene so fair<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> With dagger's hilt on the wicket strong<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> He struck full loud, and struck full long.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The porter hurried to the gate--<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 'Who knocks so loud, and knocks so late?'<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 'From Branksome I,' the warrior cried;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And straight the wicket open'd wide:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For Branksome's chiefs had in battle stood<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> To fence the rights of fair Melrose;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And lands and livings, many a rood<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Had gifted the shrine for their souls' repose.III. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Bold Deloraine his errand said; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The porter bent his humble head; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> With torch in hand, and feet unshod, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And noiseless step the path he trod; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The arched cloister, far and wide, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Rang to the warrior's clanking stride, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Till, stooping low his lofty crest, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> He enter'd the cell of the ancient priest, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And lifted his barred aventayle <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> To hail the Monk of St. Mary's aisle.IV. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 'The Ladye of Branksome greets thee by me;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Says that the fated hour is come,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And that to-night I shall watch with thee,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> To win the treasure of the tomb.'<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> From sackcloth couch the monk arose,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> With toil his stiffen'd limbs he rear'd;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> A hundred years had flung their snows<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> On his thin locks and floating beard.V. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And strangely on the knight look'd he,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And his blue eyes gleam'd wild and wide; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 'And darest thou, warrior, seek to see<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> What heaven and hell alike would hide?<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> My breast in belt of iron pent,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> With shirt of hair and scourge of thorn;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For threescore years, in penance spent,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> My knees those flinty stones have worn;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Yet all too little to atone<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For knowing what should ne'er be known.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Would'st thou thy every future year<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> In ceaseless prayer and penance drie,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Yet wait thy latter end with fear--<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Then, daring warrior, follow me!'VI. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 'Penance, father, will I none;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Prayer know I hardly one;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For mass or prayer can I rarely tarry,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Save to patter an Ave Mary,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When I ride on a Border foray.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Other prayer can I none;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> So speed me my errand, and let me be gone.'VII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Again on the knight look'd the churchman old,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And again he sighed heavily;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For he had himself been a warrior bold, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And fought in Spain and Italy.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And he thought on the days that were long since by,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When his limbs were strong, and his courage was high:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Now, slow and faint, he led the way<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Where, cloister'd round, the garden lay;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The pillar'd arches were over their head,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And beneath their feet were the bones of the dead,VIII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Spreading herbs and flowerets bright, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Glisten'd with the dew of night;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Nor herb nor floweret glisten'd there,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The monk gazed long on the lovely moon,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Then into the night he looked forth;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And red and bright the streamers light<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Were dancing in the glowing north.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> So had he seen in fair Castile<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The youth in glittering squadrons start;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Sudden the flying jennet wheel,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And hurl the unexpected dart.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> He knew, by the streamers that shot so bright,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> That spirits were riding the northern light.IX. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> By a steel-clenched postern door<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> They enter'd now the chancel tall;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The darken'd roof rose high aloof<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> On pillars lofty and light and small: <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The key-stone that lock'd each ribbed aisle, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Was a fleur-de-lys or a quatre-feuille; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The corbells were carved grotesque and grim;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And the pillars, with cluster'd shafts so trim, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> With base and with capital flourish'd around, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Seem'd bundles of lances which garlands had bound.X </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Full many a scutcheon and banner riven <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Shook to the cold night-wind of heaven,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Around the screened altar's pale; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And there the dying lamps did burn <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Before thy low and lonely urn, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> O gallant chief of Otterburne!<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And thine, dark knight of Liddesdale!<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> O fading honours of the dead!<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> O high ambition lowly laid!XI. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The moon on the east oriel shone<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Through slender shafts of shapely stone,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> By foliaged tracery combined;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'Twixt poplars straight the osier wand<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> In many a freakish knot had twined;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Then framed a spell when the work was done,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And changed the willow wreaths to stone. <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The silver light, so pale and faint,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Show'd many a prophet and many a saint,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Whose image on the glass was dyed;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Full in the midst, his Cross of Red<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Triumphant Michael brandished,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And trampled the Apostate's pride. <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The moon-beam kiss'd the holy pane, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And threw on the pavement a bloody stain.XII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> They sate them down on a marble stone,--<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> A Scottish monarch slept below;--<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Thus spoke the monk, in solemn tone:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'I was not always a man of woe;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> For Paynim countries I have trod,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And fought beneath the Cross of God:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Now, strange to my eyes thine arms appear,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And their iron clang sounds strange to my ear.XIII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'In these far climes it was my lot <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> To meet the wondrous Michael Scott;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> A wizard of such dreaded fame <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> That when, in Salamanca's cave, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Him listed his magic wand to wave,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The bells would ring in Notre Dame! <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Some of his skill he taught to me; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And, warrior, I could say to thee <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The words that cleft Eildon hills in three,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And bridled the Tweed with a eurb of stone: <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> But to speak them were a deadly sin; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And for having but thought them my heart within,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> A treble penance must be done.XIV. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'When Michael lay on his dying bed,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> His conscience was awakened;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> He bethought him of his sinful deed,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And he gave me a sign to come with speed:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> I was in Spain when the morning rose,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> But I stood by his bed ere evening close.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The words may not again be said<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> That he spoke to me, on death-bed laid;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> They would rend this Abbaye's messy nave,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And pile it in heaps above his grave.XV </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'I swore to bury his Mighty Book,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> That never mortal might therein look;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And never to tell where it was hid,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Save at his Chief of Branksome's need:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And when that need was past and o'er,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Again the volume to restore.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> I buried him on St. Michael's night,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> When the bell toll'd one, and the moon was bright,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And I dug his chamber among the dead<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> When the floor of the chancel was stained red,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> That his patron's cross might over him wave,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And scare the fiends from the wizard's grave.XVI. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'It was a night of woe and dread <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> When Michael in the tomb I laid; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Strange sounds along the chancel pass'd, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The banners waved without a blast'-- <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Still spoke the monk, when the bell toll'd one!--<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> I tell you that a braver man<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Than William of Deloraine, good at need,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Against a foe ne'er spurr'd a steed;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Yet somewhat was he chill'd with dread,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And his hair did bristle upon his head.XVII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'Lo, warrior! now, the Cross of Red <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Points to the grave of the mighty dead; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Within it burns a wondrous light, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> To chase the spirits that love the night: <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> That lamp shall burn unquenchably, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Until the eternal doom shall be.' <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Slow moved the monk to the broad flag-stone <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Which the bloody Cross was traced upon: <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> He pointed to a secret nook; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> An iron bar the warrior took; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And the monk made a sign with his wither'd hand, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The grave's huge portal to expand.XVIII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> With beating heart to the task he went;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> His sinewy frame o'er the grave-stone bent;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> With bar of iron heaved amain<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Till the toil-drops fell from his brows like rain.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> It was by dint of passing strength<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> That he moved the messy stone at length.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> I would you had been there to see<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> How the light broke forth so gloriously,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Stream'd upward to the chancel roof,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And through the galleries far aloof!<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> No earthly flame blazed e'er so bright:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> It shone like heaven's own blessed light,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And, issuing from the tomb,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Show'd the monk's cowl and visage pale,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Danced on the dark-brow'd warrior's mail,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And kiss'd his waving plume.XIX. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Before their eyes the wizard lay,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> As if he had not been dead a day.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> His hoary beard in silver roll'd,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> He seem'd some seventy winters old;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> A palmer's amice wrapp'd him round,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> With a wrought Spanish baldric bound,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> His left hand held his Book of Might,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> A silver cross was in his right,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The lamp was placed beside his knee: <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> High and majestic was his look, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> At which the fellest fiend had shook, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And all unruffled was his face: <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> They trusted his soul had gotten grace.XX. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Often had William of Deloraine<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Rode through the battle's bloody plain,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And trampled down the warriors slain,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And neither known remorse nor awe;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Yet now remorse and awe he own'd;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> His breath came thick, his head swam round,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> When this strange scene of death he saw, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Bewilder'd and unnerv'd he stood, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And the priest pray'd fervently and loud: <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> With eyes averted prayed he; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> He might not endure the sight to see <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Of the man he had loved so brotherly.XXI. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And when the priest his death-prayer had pray'd,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Thus unto Deloraine he said:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'Now, speed thee what thou hast to do,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Or, warrior, we may dearly rue;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> For those thou may'st not look upon,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Are gathering fast round the yawning stone!'<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Then Deloraine in terror took<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> From the cold hand the Mighty Book,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> With iron clasp'd and with iron bound: <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> He thought, as he took it, the dead man frown'd; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> But the glare of the sepulchral light <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Perchance had dazzled the warrior's sight.XXII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> When the huge stone sunk o'er the tomb, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The night return'd in double gloom; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> For the moon had gone down, and the stars were few; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And, as the knight and priest withdrew, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> With wavering steps and dizzy brain, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> They hardly might the postern gain. <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> 'Tis said, as through the aisles they pass'd, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> They heard strange noises on the blast; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And through the cloister-galleries small, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Which at mid-height thread the chancel wall, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Loud sobs, and laughter louder ran, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And voices unlike the voice of man; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> As if the fiends kept holiday <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Because these spells were brought to day.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> I cannot tell how the truth may be; <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> I say the tale as 'twas said to me.XXIII. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> `Now, hie thee hence,' the father said,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> `And when we are on death-bed laid, <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> O may our dear Ladye and sweet St. John <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Forgive our souls for the deed we have done!<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The monk returned him to his cell,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And many a prayer and penance sped;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> When the convent met at the noontide bell,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The Monk of St. Mary's aisle was dead! <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Before the cross was the body laid <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> With hands clasp'd fast, as if still he pray'd.XXIV. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The knight breathed free in the morning wind,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And strove his hardihood to find:<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> He was glad when he pass'd the tombstones gray<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Which girdle round the fair Abbaye;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> For the mystic book, to his bosom prest,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Felt like a load upon his breast;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And his joints, with nerves of iron twined,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Shook like the aspen leaves in wind.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Full fain was he when the dawn of day<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Began to brighten Cheviot gray;<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> He joy'd to see the cheerful light,<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> And he said Ave Mary as well as he might.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sir+Walter+Scott">Sir Walter Scott</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519722" data-title="The Ride to Melrose, from The Lay of the Last Minstrel. de Sir Walter Scott" data-description="CANTO I.XIX.
 The Lady sought the lofty hall,
 Where many a bold retainer lay,
 And with jocund din among them all,
 Her son pursued his infant play.
 A fancied moss-trooper, the boy
 The truncheon of a spear bestrode,
 And round the hall right me..."></div>
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