The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, with memoir of the author.

CANTO IvI.] ROKEBY. 273
Bertram beheld the dewdrop start,
It almost touch'd his iron heart:"I did not think there lived," he said,
" One, who would tear for Bertram shed."
He loosen'd then his baldric's hold,
A buckle broad of massive gold;" Of all the spoil that paid his pains,
But this with Risingham remains;
And this, dear Edmund, thou shalt take,
And wear it long for Bertram's sake.
Once more-to Mortham speed amain;
Farewell! and turn thee not again."
XXIII.
The night has yielded to the morn,
And far the hours of prime are worn.
Oswald, who, since the dawn of day,
Had cursed his messenger's delay,
Impatient question'd now his train,
"Was Denzil's son return'd again?"
It chanced there answer'd of the crew,
A menial, who young Edmund knew:
" No son of Denzil this,"-he said;
" A peasant boy from Winston glade,
For song and minstrelsy renown'd
And knavish pranks, the hamlets round.""Not Denzil's son!-From Winston vale!Then it was false, that specious tale;
Or, worse-he hath despatch'd the youth
To show to Mortham's Lord its truth.
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