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

Cxro IT, LST MINSTREL
Who came to gather in black mail;'
And Liddesdale, with small avail,
Might drive them lightly back agen.
So passed the anxious night away,
And welcome was the peep of day.
CEASbED the high sound-the listening throng
Applaud the Master of the Song;
And marvel much, in helpless age,
So hard should be his pilgrimage.
Had he no friend-no daughter dear
His wandering toil to share and cheer;.
No son, to be his father's stay,
And guide him on the rugged way?" Ayel once he had-but he was deadl"
Upon the harp he stooped his head,
And busied himself the strings withal,
To hide the tear, that fain would fall
In solemn measure, soft and slow,
Arose a fathers notes of woe.
CANTO FOURTIH.
SWEET Teviot! on thy filver tide
The glaring bale-fires'blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willowed shore.
Where'er thou wind'st*by dale or hill,
A.l, all is peaceful, all is still,
As if thy waves, sine Time was bort,
Since fitt they rolled uipon the Tweed,
Had only heard the shepherd's reed,Nor started at the butgle-horn.
IL
Unlike the tide of human time
Which, though it change in ceaseless flow,
Protection-money exacted by free-booters.