. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. ksome glen. The monarch judged this desert wild, With such romantic ruin piled. Was theatre by Natures hand For feat of high achievement planned. O, rather he chose, that monarch bold. On venturous quest to rideIn plate and mail by wood and woldThan, with ermine trapped and cloth ofgold. In princely bower to bide ;The bursting crash of a foemans spear, As it shivered against his mail,Was merrier music to his ear Than courtiers whispered tale:And the clash of Caliburn more dear, When on the hostile casqu
. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. ksome glen. The monarch judged this desert wild, With such romantic ruin piled. Was theatre by Natures hand For feat of high achievement planned. O, rather he chose, that monarch bold. On venturous quest to rideIn plate and mail by wood and woldThan, with ermine trapped and cloth ofgold. In princely bower to bide ;The bursting crash of a foemans spear, As it shivered against his mail,Was merrier music to his ear Than courtiers whispered tale:And the clash of Caliburn more dear, When on the hostile casque it rung,Than all the laysTo the monarchs praise That the harpers of Reged loved better to rest by wood or river Than in bower of his bride. Dame Guen- ever,For he left that lady so lovely of cheerTo follow adventures of danger and fear;And the frank-hearted monarch full little did wotThat she smiled in his absence on brave Lancelot. He rode till over down and dellThe shade more broad and deeper fell;And though around the mountains headFlowed streams of purple and gold and red,. Dark at the base, unblest by the black rocks and roared the toil the king his way pursuedBy lonely Threlkelds waste and wood,Till on his course obliquely shoneThe narrow valley of Saint John,Down sloping to the western skyWhere lingering sunbeams love to glad to feel those beams king drew up his chargers rein ;With gauntlet raised he screened his dazzled with the level light,And from beneath his glove of mailScanned at his ease the lovely gainst the sun his armor brightGleamed ruddy like the beacons light. XIII. Paled in by many a lofty narrow dale lay smooth and still,And, down its verdant bosom led,A winding brooklet found its midmost of the vale a moundArose with airy turrets , and rampires circling bound. 342 SCOTTS POETICAL WORKS. And mighty keep and tower ;Seemed some primeval giants handThe
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