Yet, Minstrel, in yon rifing cliff
Thou'lt find a fheltering cave;
And here thou shalt my fupper share,
And there thy lodging have.
All day he fits beside the gate,
And pipes both loud and clear;
All night he watches round the walls,
In hopes his love to hear.
The first night, as he filent watch'd,
All at the midnight hour,
He plainly heard his Lady's voice
Lamenting in the tower.
The fecond night the moon fhone clear,
And gilt the spangled dew;
He faw his Lady thro' the grate,
But 'twas a tranfient view.
The third night wearied out he flept
'Till near the morning tide; When ftarting up, he feiz'd his fword,
And to the castle hy'd.
When, lo he faw a ladder of ropes
Depending from the wall;
And o'er the mote was newly laid
A poplar strong and tall.
And foon he faw his love defcend
Wrapt in a Tartan plaid; Affifted by a sturdy youth In highland garb y-clad.
Amaz'd, confounded at the fight,
He lay unseen and still :
And foon he saw them cross the ftream,
And mount the neighbouring hill.
Unheard, unknown of all within,
The youthful couple fly.
But what can 'fcape the lover's ken?
Or fhun his piercing eye?
With filent step he follows clofe
Behind the flying pair,
And faw her hang upon
With fond familiar air.
Thanks, gentle youth, fhe often faid;
My thanks thou well haft won:
For me what wiles haft thou contriv'd?
For me what dangers run?
And ever shall my grateful heart
Thy fervices repay:
Sir Bertram would no further hear,
But cried, Vile traitor, ftay!
Vile traitor! yield that Lady up!
• And quick his fword he drew.
The stranger turn'd in sudden rage,
And at Sir Bertram flew.
With mortal hate their vigorous arms
Gave many a vengeful blow:
But Bertram's stronger hand prevail'd,
And laid the ftranger low.
Die, traitor, die, !-A deadly thruft
Attends each furious word.
Ah! then fair Ifabel knew his voice,
And rufh'd beneath his fword.
O ftop, fhe cried, O ftop thy arm!
Thou doft thy brother flay!
And here the Hermit paus'd, and wept:
His tongue no more could say.
At length he cried, Ye lovely pair,
How fhall I tell the reft?
Ere I could ftop my piercing sword,
It fell, and ftab'd her breast.
Wert thou thyself that hapless youth?
Ah! cruel fate! they faid.
The Hermit wept, and fo did they:
They figh'd; he hung his head.
O blind and jealous rage, he cried,
. What evils from thee flow?
The Hermit paus'd; they filent mourn'd;
He wept, and they were woe.
Ah! when I heard my brother's name,
And faw my lady bleed,
I rav'd, I wept, I curft my arm,
That wrought the fatal deed.
In vain I clasp'd her to my breaft,
And clos'd the ghaftly wound:
In vain I prefs'd his bleeding corpse,
And rais'd it from the ground.
My brother, alas! spake never more ;
His precious life was flown.
She kindly ftrove to footh my pain,
Regardless of her own.
Bertram, fhe faid, be comforted,
And live to think on me:
My we in heaven that union prove,
Which here was not to be!
Bertram, fhe faid, I ftill was true;
Thou only hadft my heart:
May we hereafter meet in blifs!
We now, alas! muft part.
For thee, I left my father's hall,
And flew to thy relief;
When, lo! near Chiviot's fatal hills
I met a Scottish chief.
Lord Malcolm's fon, whose proffered love,
I had refus'd with fcorn;
He flew my guards and seiz'd on me
Upon that fatal morn:
And in these dreary hated walls
He kept me clofe confin'd;
And fondly fued and warmly prefs'd
To win me to his mind.
Each rifing morn increas'd my pain,
Each night increas'd my fear;
When wandering in this northern garb
Thy brother found me here.
He quickly form'd this brave defign
To fet me captive free;
And on the moor his horfes wait
Ty'd to a neighbouring tree.
Then hafte, my love, efcape away,
And for thyfelf provide;
And sometimes fondly think on her,
Who fhould have been thy bride.
Thus pouring comfort on my foul
Even with her latest breath,
She gave one parting fond embrace,
And clos'd her eyes in death.
In wild amaze, in fpeechlefs woe,
Devoid of fenfe I lay:
Then fudden all in frantic mood.
I meant myself to slay:
And rising up in furious hafte
I feiz'd the bloody brand:*
A sturdy arm here interpos'd,
And wrench'd it from my hand..
A crowd, that from the caftle came,
Had mifs'd their lovely ward;
And feizing me to prison bare,
And deep in dungeon barr'd.
It chanc'd that on that
Their chief was prifoner ta'en:
Lord PERCY had us foon exchang'd,
And ftrove to foothe my pain.
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