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

CBurr VL. THE GUARD ROOM, 4
With the Chief's birth begins our care;
Our harp must soothe the infant heir,
Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace
His earliest feat of field or chase;
In peace, in war, our rank we keep,
We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep,
Nor leave hiim till we pour our verse,
A doleful tribute! o'er his hearse.
Then let me share his captive lot;
It is my right-deny it not!"
"Little we reck," said John of Brent,
"We southern men, of long descent;
Nor wot we how a name-a wordMakes clansmen vassals to a lord:
Yet kind my noble landlord's partGod bless the house of BeaudesertI
And, but I loved to drive the deer,
More than to guide the labouring steer,
I had not dwelt an outcast here.
Come, good old Minstrel, follow me;
Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see.
XIL
Then, from a rusted iron hook,
A bunch of ponderous keys he took,
Lighted a torch, and Allan led
Through grated arch and passage dread.
Portals they passed, where, deep within,
Spoke prisoner'smoan and fetters' din;
Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stor&ed
Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword,
And many an hideous engine grim,
For wrenching joint, and crushing limb,
By artists formed, who deemed it shame
And sin to give their work a name.
They halted at a low-browed porch,
And Brent to Allan gave the torch,
While bolt and chain he backward rolled,
And made the bar unhasp its hold.
They entered —'twas a prison-room
Of stern security and gloom,
Yet not a dungeon; for the day
Through lofty gratings found is way,
And rude and antique garniture
Decked the sad walls and oaken floor;
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