XXXII. The Sorceress, or Wolfwold and Ulla.

226

7, for black friars sing, read white monks they

sing.

7, for tumbling, read trembling.

No. I.

BOTHWELL'S BONNY JANE.

ORIGINAL.M. G. LEWIS.

Bothwell Castle is beautifully situated upon the Clyde, and fronts the ruins of Blantyre Priory. The estate of Bothwell has long been, and continues to be, in the possession of the Douglas family.

LOUD roars the north round Bothwell's hall,
And fast descends the pattering rain:
But streams of tears still faster fall

From thy blue eyes, oh! bonny Jane!

Hark! hark!-I hear, with mournful yell,
The wraiths* of angry Clyde complain;

But sorrow bursts with louder swell

From thy fair breast, oh! bonny Jane!

• Water-spirits.

B

66

Tap!-tap!"—who knocks?—the door unfolds; The mourner lifts her melting eye, And soon with joy and hope beholds A reverend monk approaching nigh:

His air is mild, his step is slow,

His hands across his breast are laid, And soft he sighs, while bending low, -"St. Bothan* guard thee, gentle maid!”—

To meet the friar the damsel ran;

She kiss'd his hand, she clasp'd his knee.

-'Now free me, free me, holy man,

'Who com'st from Blantyre Prio-rie!'

--"What mean these piteous cries, daughter?

"St. Bothan be thy speed!

"From whom would'st thou be freed?".

-Oh! father, father! know, my sire,

Though long I knelt, and wept, and sigh'd,

• Hath sworn, ere twice ten days expire,

His Jane shall be Lord Malcolm's bride!'

* The patron saint of Bothwell.

"Lord Malcolm is rich and great, daughter,—

"And comes of an high degree;

"He's fit to be thy mate, daughter,

-Oh! father, father! say not so!

Though rich his halls, though fair his bowers,• There stands an hut, where Tweed doth flow, 'I prize beyond Lord Malcolm's towers:

• There dwells a youth where Tweed doth glide,
• On whom nor rank, nor fortune smiles;
'I'd rather be that peasant's bride,

⚫ Than reign o'er all Lord Malcolm's isles.'—

-"But should you flee away, daughter,

"And wed with a village clown, "What would your father say, daughter?

"How would he fume and frown?"

-Oh! he might frown and he might fume,
'And Malcolm's heart might grieve and pine,

So Edgar's hut for me had room,

•And Edgar's lips were press'd to mine!'

"Should with a courser wait, daughter,

"What, daughter, would'st thou do?"

- With noiseless step the stairs I'd

press,

Unclose the gate, and mount with glee,

And ever, as on I sped, would bless

• The abbot of Blantyre Prio-rie !'

." Then, daughter, dry those eyes so bright; "I'll haste where flows Tweed's silver stream; "And when thou see'st, at dead of night, "A lamp in Blantyre's chapel gleam,

"With noiseless step the staircase press,
"For know, thy lover there will be ;
"Then mount his steed, haste on,—and bless
“The abbot of Blantyre Prio-rie!".

Then forth the friar he bent his

way,

While lightly danc'd the damsel's heart ;

Oh! how she chid the length of day,

How sigh'd to see the sun depart!