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The way was long, the wind was cold,
Wished to be with them, and at rest.
No more, on prancing palfrey borne,
No longer courted and caressed, . High placed in hall, a welcome guest, He poured, to lord and lady gay, The unpremeditated lay: Old times were changed, old manners gone; A stranger filled the Stuart's throne; The bigots of the iron time Had called his harmless art a crime. A wandering harper, scorned and poor, 'He begged his bread from door to door; And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, The harp, a king had loved to hear.
He passed where Newark's stately tower Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower: : The Minstrel gazed with wishful eyeNo humbler resting place was nigh. With hesitating step, at last, The embattled portal-arch he passed,
Whose ponderous grate and massy bar,
. When kindness had his wants supplied,
* Anne, Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, representative of the ancient Lords of Buccleuch, and widow of the unfortunate James, Duke of Monmouth, who was beheaded in 1685.