Durst not look up, but mutter'd low

Some mingled sounds that none might know,
And greeted him, 'twixt joy and fear,
As being of superior sphere."

XXXVII.

Even upon Bannock's bloody plain,
Heap'd then with thousands of the slain,
'Mid victor monarch's musings high,
Mirth laugh'd in good King Robert's eye.
"And bore he such angelic air,

Such noble front, such waving hair?
Hath Ronald kneel'd to him?" he said,
"Then must we call the church to aid
Our will be to the Abbot known,
Ere these strange news are wider blown,
To Cambuskenneth straight ye pass,
And deck the church for solemn mass,
To pay for high deliverance given,
A nation's thanks to gracious Heaven.
Let him array, besides, such state,
As should on princes' nuptials wait.
Ourself the cause, through fortune's spite,
That once broke short that spousal rite,
Ourself will grace, with early morn,

1

The bridal of the Maid of Lorn.""

1[“ To Mr. James Ballantyne.—Dear Sir,-You have now the whole affair, excepting two or three concluding stanzas. As your taste for bride's cake may induce you to desire to know more of the wedding, I will save you some criticism by saying, I have settled to stop short as above.-Witness my hand,

19*

"W. S."]