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Full through the guests' bedazzled band
Resistless flashed the levin-brand,
And filled the hall with smouldering smoke,
As on the elvish page it broke.
It broke, with thunder long and loud,
Dismayed the brave, appalled the proud,
From sea to sea the larum rung ;
On Berwick wall, and at Carlisle withal,
To arms the startled warders sprung.
When ended was the dreadful roar,
The elvish dwarf was seen no more '
Some heard a voice in Branksome hall,
Some saw a sight, not seen by all ;
That dreadful voice was heard by some, o
Cry, with loud summons, GYLBIN, come '".
And on the spot where burst the brand,
Just where the page had flung him down,
Some saw an arm, and some a hand,
And some the waving of a gown.
The guests in silence prayed and shook,
And terror dim'd each lofty look :
But none of all the astonished train
"Was so dismayed as Deloraine;
His blood did freeze, his brain did burn,
*Twas feared his mind would ne'er return;
For he was speechless, ghastly, wan,
Like him, of whom the story ran,
Who spoke the spectre bound in Man.
At length, by fits, he darkly told,
With broken hint, and shuddering colá–
That he had seen, right certainly,
A shape with amice wrapped around,
With a wrought Spanish baldric bound,
Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea;
And knew—but how it mattered not—
It was the wizard, Michael Scott.
The anxious crowd, with horror pale,
All trembling, heard the wonderous tale;
No sound was made, no word was spoke,
Till noble Angus silence broke ;
And he a solemn sacred plight
Did to Saint Bryde of Douglas make,
That he a pilgrimage would take
To Melrose Abbey, for the sake
Of Michael's restless sprite.
"Then each to ease his troubled breast,
To some blessed saint his prayers addressed . .
Some to Saint Modan made their vows,
Some to Saint Mary of the Lowes,
Some to the Holy Rood of Lisle,
Some to our ladye of the Isle;
Each did his patron witness make,
That he such pilgrimage would take,
And monks should sing, and bells should toll,
All for the weal of Michael's soul.
While vows were ta'en, and prayers were prayed,
'Tis said the noble dame, dismayed,
Renounced for aye, dark magic's aid.
XXIX. Nought of the bridal will I tell,
Which after in short space befel ;
Nor how brave sons and daughters fair
Blessed Teviot's Flower, and Cranstoun's heir :
After such dreadful scene, 'twere vain
To wake the note of mirth again;
More meet it were to mark the day
Of penitence and prayer divine,
When pilgrim chiefs, in sad array,
Sought Melrose' holy shrine.
With naked foot and sackcloth vest,
And arms enfolded on his breast,
Did every pilgrim go ; The standers-by might hear uneath, Footstep, or voice, or high-drawn breath, Through all the lengthened row ; No lordly look, no martial stride, Gone was their glory, sunk their pride, Forgotten their renown ; Silent and slow, like ghosts, they glide To the high altar's hallowed side, And there they kneeled them down : -Above the suppliant chieftains wave The banners of departed brave; Beneath the lettered stones were laid The ashes of their fathers dead; From many a garnished nich around, Stern saints, and tortured martyrs, frowned.
And slow up the dim aisle afar,
With sable cowl and scapular,
And snow-white stoles, in order due,
The holy fathers, two and two,
In long procession came;
Taper, and host, and book, they bare,
And holy banner, flourished fair
With the Redeemer's name;
Above the prostrate pilgrim band
The mitred abbot stretched his hand,
And blessed them as they kneeled ;
With holy cross he signed them all,
And prayed they might be sage in hall,
And fortunate in field.
Then mass was sung, and prayers were said,.
And solemn requiem for the dead;
And bells tolled out their mighty peal,
For the departed spirits weal;
And ever in the office close
The hymn of intercession rose;
And far the echoing aisles prolong.
The awful burthen of the song,
DIES IRAE, DIES ILLA,
Solvet sAEcLUM IN FAviLLA;-
While the pealing organ rung;
Were it meet with sacred strain ;
To close my lay, so light and vain,
Thus the holy fathers sung.