. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. t be thy guide, sweet maid, With Scotlands King thy suit to aid. No tyrant he, though ire and pride May lay his better mood aside. Come, Ellen, come ! t is more than time, He holds his court at morning prime. With beating heart, and bosom wrung. As to a brothers arm she clung. Gently he dried the falling tear, And gently whispered hope and cheer ; Her faltering steps half led, half stayed, Through gallery fair and high arcade. Till at his touch its wings of pride A portal arch unfolded wide. Within t wa
. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. t be thy guide, sweet maid, With Scotlands King thy suit to aid. No tyrant he, though ire and pride May lay his better mood aside. Come, Ellen, come ! t is more than time, He holds his court at morning prime. With beating heart, and bosom wrung. As to a brothers arm she clung. Gently he dried the falling tear, And gently whispered hope and cheer ; Her faltering steps half led, half stayed, Through gallery fair and high arcade. Till at his touch its wings of pride A portal arch unfolded wide. Within t was brilliant all and light,A thronging scene of figures bright;It glowed on Ellens dazzled sight,As when the setting sun has givenTen thousand hues to summer from their tissue fancy framesAerial knights and fairy by Fitz-James her footing staid ;A few faint steps she forward slow her drooping head she fearful round the presence gazed;For him she sought who owned this dreaded Prince whose will was fate !-She gazed on many a princely port. 246 SCOTTS POETICAL WORKS. Might well have ruled a royal court;On many a splendid garb she gazed,—Then turned bewildered and amazed,For all stood bare; and in the roomFitz-James alone wore cap and him each ladys look was lent,On him each courtiers eye was bent;Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen,He stood, in simple Lincoln green. The fealty of Scotland claims. To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring ; He will redeem his signet ring. Ask naught for Douglas ; — yester even, His Prince and he have much forgiven; Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue, I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. We would not, to the vulgar crowd. Yield what they craved with clamor loud;
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrolfewjw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1888
