The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . thy might As born upon that blessed night When yawning graves and dying groan Proclaimed hells empire overthrown, — With untaught valor shalt compel Res])onse denied to magic spell. • Gramercy, quoth our monarch free, Place him but front to front with me, And, by this good and honored brand. The gift of Coeur-de-Lions hand, .Soothly I swear that, tide what tide. The demon shall a buffet bide. His bearing bold the wizard viewed. And thus, well pleased, his speech renewed : There spoke the blood of Malcolm
The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . thy might As born upon that blessed night When yawning graves and dying groan Proclaimed hells empire overthrown, — With untaught valor shalt compel Res])onse denied to magic spell. • Gramercy, quoth our monarch free, Place him but front to front with me, And, by this good and honored brand. The gift of Coeur-de-Lions hand, .Soothly I swear that, tide what tide. The demon shall a buffet bide. His bearing bold the wizard viewed. And thus, well pleased, his speech renewed : There spoke the blood of Malcolm I — mark :Forth pacing hence at midnight dark,The rampart seek whose circling crownCrests the ascent of yonder down :A southern entrance shalt thou find ;There halt, and there thy bugle wind,And trust thine elfin foe to seeIn guise of thy worst then thy lance and spur thy steed —l^pon him ! and Saint George to speed !If he go down, thou soon shalt knowWhatecr these airy sprites can show;If thy heart fail thee in the strife,I am no warrant for thv life. HARM ION. 95. Soon as the midnight bell did ring,Alone and armed, forth rode the kingTo that old camps deserted Knight, you well might mark the mound Left hand the town, — the Pictish raceThe trench, long since, in blood did traceThe moor around is brown and bare,The space within is green and spot our village children know, 96 SCOTTS POETICAL irORkS. For there the earliest wild-rtowers grow :But woe betide the wandering wightThat treads its circle in the night!Tlie breadth across, a bowshot clear,Ciives ample space for full career;Opposed to the four points of heaven,By four deep gaps are entrance southernmost our monarch passed,Halted, and blew a gallant blast ;And on the north, within tlic ring,Appeared tlie form of Englands king,Wiio then, a thousand leagues Palestine waged holy war :Yet arms like Englands did he wield ;Alike the leopards in the his Syrian
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