"Yet hear but my word, my noble lord!
For I heard her name his name;
And that lady bright, she called the knight,
Sir Richard of Coldinghame."

The bold Baron's brow then changed, I trow,
From high blood-red to pale-

"The grave is deep and dark-and the corpse is stiff and stark

So I may not trust thy tale.

"Where fair Tweed flows round holy Melrose,
And Eildon slopes to the plain,

Full three nights ago, by some secret foe,
That gay gallant was slain.

"The varying light deceived thy sight, And the wild winds drowned the name; For the Dryburgh bells ring, and the white monks do sing,

For Sir Richard of Coldinghame!"

He pass'd the court-gate, and he op'd the tow'r grate,

And he mounted the narrow stair

To the bartizan-seat, where, with maids that on her wait,

He found his lady fair.

That lady sat in mournful mood;
Look'd over hill and dale;

Over Tweed's fair flood, and Mertoun's wood,
And all down Teviotdale.

"Now hail, now hail, thou lady bright!" "Now hail, thou Baron true!

What news, what news, from Ancram fight?
What news from the bold Buccleuch "

"The Ancram Moor is red with gore,
For many a southern fell;

And Buccleuch has charged us, evermore
To watch our beacons well."

The lady blush'd red, but nothing she said;
Nor added the Baron a word:

Then she stepp'd down the stair to her chamber fair, And so did her moody lord.

In sleep the lady mourn'd, and the Baron toss'd and turn'd,

And oft to himself he said

"The worms around him creep, and his bloody grave is deep.

It cannot give up the dead!"

...

It was near the ringing of matin-bell,
The night was well nigh done,
When a heavy sleep on that Baron fell,
On the eve of good St John.

The lady look'd through the chamber fair,
By the light of a dying flame;
And she was aware of a knight stood there
Sir Richard of Coldinghame!

"Alas! away, away!" she cried,

"For the holy Virgin's sake!" "Lady, I know who sleeps by thy side; But, lady, he will not awake.

"By Eildon-tree, for long nights three,
In bloody grave have I lain;

The mass and the death-pray'r are said for me,
But, lady, they are said in vain.

"By the Baron's brand, near Tweed's fair strand, Most foully slain I fell;

And my restless sprite on the beacon's height,
For a space is doom'd to dwell.

"At our trysting-place, for a certain space I must wander to and fro;

But I had not had pow'r to come to thy bow'r, Had'st thou not conjur'd me so."

19

Love master'd fear-her brow she cross'd;
"How, Richard, hast thou sped ?
And art thou sav'd, or art thou lost ?"
The Vision shook his head!

"Who spilleth life, shall forfeit life So bid thy lord believe:

Trysting-place-Place of rendezvous.

That lawless love is guilt above,
This awful sign receive."

He laid his left palm on an oaken beam;
His right upon her hand:

The lady shrunk, and fainting sunk,
For it scorch'd like a fiery brand.
The sable score, of fingers four,

Remains on that board impress'd;
And for evermore that lady wore

A cov'ring on her wrist.

There is a Nun in Dryburgh bower
Ne'er looks upon the sun:
There is a Monk in Melrose tower,
He speaketh word to none.

That Nun, who ne'er beholds the day,
That Monk, who speaks to none
That Nun was Smaylho'me's Lady gay,
That Monk the bold Baron.

CADYOW CASTLE

ADDRESSED TO

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

LADY ANNE HAMILTON.

[In detailing the death of the regent Murray, which is made the subject of the folowing ballad, it would be injustice to my reasof to use other words than those of Dr Robertson, whose account of that memorable event forms a beautiful piece of historical painting. Hamilton of Bothwelibaugh was the person who committed this barbarous action He had been condemned to death soon after the battle of Langside, as we have already related, and owed his life to the regents clemency. But part of his estate had been bestowed upon one of the regent's favourites, who seized his house, and turned out his wife naked, in a cold night, into the open fields, where, before next morning, she became furiously mad This injury made a deeper impression on him than the benefit he had received, and from that moment he vowed to be revenged of the regent. Party rage strengthened and inflamed his private resentment. His kinsmen, the Hamiltons, applauded the enterprise. The maxins of that ag- justified the most desperate course be could take to obtain vengeance. He followed the regent for some time, and watched for an opportunity to strike the blow. He re solved, at last, to wait till his enemy should arrive at Linlithgow,

through which he was to pass, in his way from Stirling to Edinburgh He took his stand in a wooden gallery, which had a window towar is the street; spread a feather-bed on the floor, to hin der the noise of his feet from being heard; hung up a black cloth behind him, that his shadow night not be observed from without; and, after all this preparation, caliniy expected the gent's ap proach, who had lodged, during the uigbt, in a house not far dis tant. Some in distinct information of the danger, which threatened him, had been conveyed to the regent, and he paid so much regard to it, that he resolved to return by the same gate through which he had entered, and to fetch a compass round the town, But, as the crowd about the gate was great, and he himself unacquainted with fear, he proceeded directly along the street; and the throng of people obliging him to move very slowly, gave the assassin time to take so true an aim, that he shot him, with a single bullet, through the lower part of his belly, and killed the horse of a gentleman, who rode on his other side. His followers Instantly endeavoured to break into the house, whence the blow had come; but they found the door strongly barricaded, and, before it could be forced open, Hamilton had mounted a fleet horse, which stood ready for him at a back passage, and was got far be yond their reach. The regent died the same night of his wound."History of Scotland, book v.]

WHEN princely Hamilton's abode

Ennobl'd Cadyow's Gothic tow'rs, The song went round, the goblet flow'd, And revel sped the laughing hours. Then, thrilling to the harp's gay sound,

So sweetly rung each vaulted wall, And echo'd light the dancer's bound,

As mirth and music cheer'd the hall. But Cadyow's tow'rs, in ruins laid,

And vaults, by ivy mantled o'er, Thrill to the music of the shade,

Or echo Evan's hoarser roar. Yet still, of Cadyow's faded fame,

You bid me tell a minstrel tale, And tune my harp, of Border frame, On the wild banks of Evandale.

For thou, from scenes of courtly pride,
From pleasure's lighter scenes, canst turn,
To draw oblivion's pail aside,

And mark the long forgotten urn.
Then, noble maid! at thy command,

Again the crumbled halls shall rise;
Lo! as on Evan's banks we stand,
The past returns-the preseat iies.—

Where with the rock's wood-cover'd side
Were blended late the ruins green,
Rise turrets in fantastic pride,

And feudal banners flaunt between: Where the rude torrent's brawling course Was shagg d with thorn and tangling sloe, The ashler buttress braves its force,

And ramparts frown in battled row.
'Tis night-the shade of keep and spire
Obscurely dance on Evan's stream,
And on the wave the warder's fire

Is chequering the moon-light beam.
Fades slow their light; the east is
grey;
The weary warder leaves his tow'r;
Steeds snort: uncoupl'd stag-hounds bay,
And merry hunters quit the bow'r.

The draw-bridge falls-they hurry out

Clatters each plank and swinging chain, As, dashing o'er, the jovial route

Urge the shy steed, and slack the rein. First of his troop, the Chief rode on:

His shouting merry-men throng behind; The steed of princely Hamilton

Was fleeter than the mountain wind. From the thick copse the roe-bucks bouna, The startling red-deer scuds the plain; For, the hoarse bugle's warrior sound

Has rous'd their mountain haunts again. Through the huge oaks of Evandale,

Whose limbs a thousand years have worn, What sullen roar comes down the gale,

And drowns the hunter's pealing horn? Mightiest of all the beasts of chace,

That roam in woody Caledon, Crashing the forest in his race,

The Mountain Bull comes thund'ring on. Fierce, on the hunters' quiver'd band, He rolls his eyes of swarthy glow,