The tall Knicht when he passed it by
Felt cauld in every bane.

But on they rade, and better rade,
It evir grew mair mirk,

O loud, loud nichered the bay steed
As they passed Mary's Kirk !

"I'm wearie o' this eerie road,"
Maid Marjorie did say—
"We canna weel get Sillarwood
Afore the set o' day!"

"It's no the sinkin' o' the sun

That gloamins sae the ground, The heicht it is o' Sillarwood

That shadows a' around."

Methocht, Sir Knicht, broad Sillarwood

A pleasant bield wud be,

With nuts on ilka hazel bush,

And birds on ilka tree

But oh the dimness o' this wood

Is terrible to me!"

"The trees, ye see, seem wondrous big,

The branches wondrous braid,

Then marvel nae if sad suld be

The path we hae to tread !"

Thick grew the air, thick grew the trees, Thick hung the leaves around,

And deeper did the Ettin's voice In the dread dimness sound"I think," said Maiden Marjorie, "I hear a horn and hound!"

"Ye weel may hear the hound," he said, "Ye weel may hear the horn,

For I can hear the wild halloo

That freichts the face o' Morn!

"The Hunters fell o' Sillarwood
Hae packs full fifty-three :

They hunt all day, they hunt all nicht,
They never bow an ee :

"The Hunters fell o' Sillarwood
Hae steeds but blude or bane :
They bear fiert maidens to a weird
Where mercy there is nane!

"And I the Laird o' Sillarwood
Hae beds baith deep and wide,
(Of clay-cauld earth) whereon to streik
A proud and dainty bride!

"Ho! look beside yon bonny birkThe latest blink of day

Is gleamin' on a comely heap

Of freshly dug red clay;

"Richt cunning hands they were that digged Forenent the birken tree

Where every leaf that draps, frore maid,
Will piece a shroud for thee-

It's they can lie on lily breast
As they can lie on lea!

"And they will hap thy lily breist
Till flesh fa's aff the bane-

Nor tell thy freres how Marjorie
To Sillarwood hath gane!

"The bed is strewed, Maid Marjorie,

Wi' bracken and wi' brier,

And ne'er will gray cock clarion wind
For ane that slumbers here-

Ye wedded have the Ettin stark-
He rules the Realms of Fear!"

XCII.

LIKE A WORN GRAY-HAIRED MARINER.

LIKE a worn gray-haired mariner whom the sea Hath wrecked, then flung in mockery ashore, To clamber some gaunt cliff, and list the roar Of wave pursuing wave unceasingly; His native land, dear home, and toil-won store Inexorably severed from his sight;

His sole companions Hopelessness and GriefWho feels his day will soon be mirkest night— Who from its close alone expects relief

Praying life's sands, in pity, to descend

And rid him of life's burden,-So do I

Gaze on the world, and time fast surging by, Drifting away each hope with each tried friend

Leaving behind a waste where desolate I may die.

XCIII.

CHOICE OF DEATH.

MIGHT I, without offending, choose

The death that I would die,
I'd fall, as erst the Templar fell,

Aneath a Syrian sky.

Upon a glorious plain of war,
The banners floating fair,
My lance and fluttering pennoncel
Should marshal heroes there!

Upon the solemn battle-eve,
With prayer to be forgiven,
I'd arm me for a righteous fight,
Imploring peace of Heaven!

High o'er the thunders of the charge
Should wave my sable plume,
And where the day was lost or won,
There should they place my tomb!

XCIV.

FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE.

OFT have I sighed for pleasure past,
Oft wept for secret smarting-

But far the heaviest drop of all
That ever on my cheek did fall
The tear was at our parting.

Why did our bosoms ever beat
Harmonious with each other,
If truest sympathies of soul
Might broken be, perhaps the whole
Concentred in another?

My fear it was when other scenes,
With other tongues and faces,

Should greet thee, thou would'st haply be
Forgetful of our amity

In old frequented places.

'Tis even so-the thrall of love,

Past ties to thee seem common-
Well, hearts must yield to beauty rare,
And proud-souled friendship hardly dare
Contest the prize with woman !

Old friend, adieu! I blame thee not,
Since fair guest fills thy bosom-
Thy smiling love may flattered be
Our bonds to know, and feel that she
The pow'r had to unloose them!

Since thou surrenderest all for her,
May she, with faith unshaken,
Place every thought on thee alone,

While he who Friendship's dream hath known,
Must from that dream awaken !

XCV.

THE LAY OF GEOFFROI RUDEL.

WITH faltering step would I depart,

From home and friend that claimed my heart—

And the big tear would dim mine eye,

Fixed on the scenes of early years,

(Each spot some pleasure past endears)

And I would mingle with a sigh

The accents of the farewell lay—

But for my love that's far way !

Friends and dear native land, adieu !
In hope we part-no tears bedew
My cheek-no dark regrets alloy
The buoyant feelings of the hour
That leads me to my ladye's bower-