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

ftATO V'L LA]JST MlNSTRnL, 77
The fishers have heard the Water Sprite,
Whose screams forbode that wreck is nigh.
"Last night the gifted seer did view
A we. shroud swathed round ladye gay;
Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch:
Why cross the gloomy firth to-day!"
l'Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir
To night at Roslin leads the ball,
But that my Ladye-mother there
Sits lonely in her castle-hall.
"'Tis not because the ring they ride,
And Lindesay at the ring rides well,
But that my sire the wine will chide.
If'tis not filled by Rosabelle"
O'er Roslin all that dreary night
A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam;'Twas broader than the watch-fire light,
And redder than the bright moon-beam.
It glared on Roslin's castled rock,
It ruddieO all Lse copse-wood glen;'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oalk,
And seen from caverned Hawthornden.
Seemed all on fire that chapel proud,
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie;
Each Baron, for a sable shroud,
Sheathed in his iron panoply.
Seemed all on fire within, around,
Deep sacristy and altar's pale;
~Shone every pillar foliage-bound,
And glimmered all the dead men's mail
Blazed battlement and pinnet high,
Blazed every rose-carved buttress fairSo still they blaze, when fate is nigh
The lordly line of high St Clair.
There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold
Lie buried within that proud chapelle;
Each one the holy vault doth holdBut the sea holds lovely Rosabelle.
And each St Clair was buried there,
With candle, with book, and with knell;