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Then rushing in, with stretch'd out field
He o'er the warrior hung;
'To guard her callow young.
Three times they frove to seize their prey,
Three times they quick retire : What force could tand his furious Arokes,
Or meet his martial fire ?
Now gathering round on every part
The battle rağ'd amain ;
That hour untimely slain.
Percy and DOUGLAS, great in arms,
And all with crimson fow'd.
At length the glory of the day
The Scots reluctant yield,
They Nowly quit the field.
All pale extended on their shields
And weltering in his gore, Lord Percy's knights their bleeding friend
To WARK's fair castle bore.
Well haft thou earn'd my daughter's love ;
Her father kindly sed;
And tend thee in thy bed.
A meflage went, no daughter came;
Fair ISABEL ne'er appears : Beshrew me, said the aged chief,
Young maidens have their fears.
up, my fon, thou shalt her fee So foon as thou canst ride ; And the shall nurse thee in her bower,
And she shall be thy bride.
Sir Bertram, at her name reviv’d,
He bless'd the foothing found 5 Fond hope fupplied the Nurse's care, And heal'd his ghafly wound.
WARK castle, a fortress belonging to the English, and of great note in antient times, ftood on the southern bank of the river Tweed, a little to the east of Tiviotdale, and not far from Kelso. It is now entirely deftroyed.
THE END OF THE SECOND Part.
Τ Η Ε
HERMIT of WARKWORTH.
Northumberland BALL A D.
FIT THE THIRD
NE early morn while dewy drops
Hung trembling on the tree, Sir Bertram from his fick bed rofe, His bride he would
A brother he had in prime of youth,
Of courage firm and keen, And he would tend him on the
way Because his wounds were green.
All day o'er moss and moor they rode,
By many a lonely tower;
Ere they drew near her bower.
Most drear and dark the castle feem's,
That wont to shine su bright;
Ere he beheld a light.
At length her aged Nurse arose
With voice so Ihrill and clear : What wight is this, that calls so lond,
And knocks so boldly here?
'Tis Bertram calls, thy Lady's love,
Come from his bed of care : All day I've ridden o'er moor and moss
To see thy lady fair.
Now out alas! (the loudly shriek'd)
Alas! how may this be?
Since she set out to thee.
Sad terror seiz'd Sir Bertram's heart,
And ready was he to fall ; When now the draw-bridge was let down,
And gates were open'd all.
Six days, young knight, are past and gone,
Since the set out to thee ;
Long since thou would'tt her see.
She tore her hair, and cried,
All thro' my folly and pride!
And now to atone for my fad fault,
And his dear health regain,
And footh his bed of pain.
Then mounted she her milk-white fteed
One morn at break of day ;
To guard her on the way.
Sad terror fmote Sir Bertram's heart,
And grief o'erwhelm’d his mind : Truft me,
faid he, I ne'er will rest 'Till I thy lady find.
That night he spent in forrow and care ;
And with sad boding heart Or ever the dawning of the day
His brother and he depart.
Now, brother, we'll our ways divide,
O'er Scottish hills to range :
And all our dress we'll change.
Some Scottish carle hath seiz'd my love,
And borne her to his den ;
Till she is restored agen.
The brothers ftrait their paths divide,
O'er Scottish hills to range ;
And oft their dress they change.
Sir Bertram clad in
gray, Moft like a palmer poor, To halls and castles wanders round,
And begs from door to door.
Sometimes a Minstrel's garb he wears,
With pipes so sweet and shrill ; And wends to every tower and town; every
dale and hill.