“The bittern clamoured from the moss, The wind blew loud and shrill; Yet the craggy pathway she did cross, To the eiry Beacon Hill.
“I watched her steps, and silent came Where she sat her on a stone;-- No watchman stood by the dreary flame, It burned all alone.
“The second night I kept her in sight, Till to the fire she came, And, by Mary’s might! an armed Knight Stood by the lonely flame.
“And many a word that warlike lord Did speak to my Lady there; But the rain fell fast, and loud blew the blast, And I heard not what they were.
“The third night there the sky was fair, And the mountain blast was still, As again I watched the secret pair, On the lonesome Beacon Hill.
“And I heard her name the midnight hour, And name this holy eve; And say, ‘Come this night to thy Lady’s bower; Ask no bold Baron’s leave.
“‘He lifts his spear with the bold Buccleuch; His Lady is all alone; The door she’ll undo, to her Knight so true, On the Eve of good St. John.’--
“‘I cannot come; I must not come; I dare not come to thee; On the Eve of St. John I must wander alone: In thy bower I may not be.’--
“‘Now, out on thee, faint-hearted Knight! Thou shouldst not say me nay; For the eve is sweet, and when lovers meet, Is worth the whole summer’s day.
“‘And I’ll chain the bloodhound, and the warder shall not sound, And rushes shall be strewed on the stair; So, by the black rood-stone, and by holy St. John, I conjure thee, my Love, to be there!’--
“‘Though the bloodhound be mute, and the rush beneath my foot, And the warder his bugle should not blow, Yet there sleepeth a priest in the chamber to the East, And my footstep he would know.’--
“‘O fear not the priest, who sleepeth to the East! For to Dryburgh the way he has ta’en; And there to say mass, till three days do pass, For the soul of a Knight that is slain.’--
“He turned him around, and grimly he frowned; Then he laughed right scornfully-- ‘He who says the mass-rite for the soul of that Knight, May as well say mass for me:
“‘At the lone midnight hour, when bad spirits have power, In thy chamber will I be.’-- With that he was gone, and my Lady left alone, And no more did I see.”
Then changed, I trow, was that bold Baron’s brow, From the dark to the blood-red high, “Now, tell me the mien of the Knight thou hast seen, For, by Mary, he shall die!”--