The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott ... Notes & life of the author.

i i'~dmtano a oh selui pree:uainl t;%opl
-| $ AsHe strains his grasp to reach the top.
I;Just as the dang'rous stretch he makes
By heav'n, his faithless footstool shakesl
Beneath his tott'ring bulk it bends,
It sways,-it loosens,-it descends!
And downward holds its headlong way,
Crashing o'er rock and copsewood sprays
Loud thunders shake the echoing delil —
Fell it alone?-alone it fell.
Just on the very verge of fate,
The hardy Bertram's falling weight
ZIe trusted to his sinewy hands,
And on the top unharm'd he standsl
XVL
Wilfrid a safer path pursued;
At intervals where, roughly hew'd,
Rude steps ascending from the dell
Render'd the cliffs accessible,
By circuit slow he thus attain'd
The height that Risingham had gain'd,
And when he issued from the wood,
Before the gate of Mortham stood.'Twas a fair scene! the sunbeam lay i
On battled tow'r and portal grey:
And from the grassy slope he sees
The Greta flow to meet the Tees;
Where, issuing from her darksome bed,
She canght the morning's eastern red,
iAnd through the soft'ning vale below
Roll'd her bright waves, in rosy glow,
All blushing, to her bridal bed,
Like some shy maid in convent bred;
While linnet, lark, and blackbird gay,
Sing forth her nuptial roundelay.
XVIL'Twas sweetly sung that roundelay;
That summer morn shone blithe and gayw
]But morning beam, and wild-bird's caU,
Awak'd not Mortham's silent hall.
I o porter, by the low-brow'd gate,
Took in the wonted niche his seat;
To the pav'd court no peasant drew;
Wak'd to their toil no menial crew;