Then sudden through the darken'd air So broad, so bright, so red the glare, And fill'd the hall with smouldering smoke, It broke, with thunder long and loud, Dismay'd the brave, appall'd 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 elfish dwarf was seen no more! XXVI. Some heard a voice in Branksome Hall, And some the waving of a gown. His blood did freeze, his brain did burn, XXVII. The anxious crowd, with horror pale, And he a solemn sacred plight Did to St. Bride 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 bless'd saint his prayers address'd; Some to St. Modan made their vows, Some to St. Mary of the Lowes, Some to the holy Rood of Lisle, Some to our lady 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 pray'd, Tis said the noble dame, dismay'd, Renounced, for aye, dark magic's aid. XXVIII. Nought of the bridal will I tell, XXIX. With naked foot, and sackloth vest, The standers-by might hear uneath, Through all the lengthen'd row: Silent and slow, like ghosts, they glide And there they knelt them down; XXX. And slow up the dim aisle afar; With sable shroud 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, flourish'd fair With the Redeemer's name : Above the prostrate pilgrim band The mitred abbot stretch'd his hand, And bless'd them as they kneel'd; Forgetful of the closing day; And noble youths, the strain to hear, Hurries its waters to the weeu. No longer Autumn's glowing red Upon our forest hills is shed; No more, beneath the evening beam, Fair Tweed reflects their purple gleam: 62.5 |