CANTO IV.
THE PROPHECY.
165
Merry it is in good green wood,
When the mavis and merle are singing,
But merrier were they in Dunfermline grey,
When all the bells were ringing.
When the mavis and merle are singing,
But merrier were they in Dunfermline grey,
When all the bells were ringing.
XVI.
Just as the minstrel sounds were staid,
A stranger climbed the steepy glade:
His martial step, his stately mien,
His hunting suit of Lincoln green,
His eagle glance, remembrance claims—
'Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'tis James Fitz-James.
Ellen beheld as in a dream,
Then, starting, scarce suppressed a scream:
"O stranger! in such hour of fear,
What evil hap has brought thee here?"—
"An evil hap how can it be,
That bids me look again on thee?
By promise bound, my former guide
Met me betimes this morning tide,
Just as the minstrel sounds were staid,
A stranger climbed the steepy glade:
His martial step, his stately mien,
His hunting suit of Lincoln green,
His eagle glance, remembrance claims—
'Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'tis James Fitz-James.
Ellen beheld as in a dream,
Then, starting, scarce suppressed a scream:
"O stranger! in such hour of fear,
What evil hap has brought thee here?"—
"An evil hap how can it be,
That bids me look again on thee?
By promise bound, my former guide
Met me betimes this morning tide,
