BEST SELECTIONS NUMBER 11. A TRIBUTE TO SIR WALTER SCOTT. TWAS WAS morn-but not the ray which falls the summer boughs among, When beauty walks in gladness forth, with all her light and song; 'Twas morn-but mist and cloud hung deep upon the lonely vale, And shadows, like the wings of death, were out upon the gale. For he whose spirit woke the dust of nations into life— That o'er the waste and barren earth spread flowers and fruitage rife Whose genius, like the sun, illumed the mighty realms of mind Had fled forever from the love and friendship of mankind! To wear a wreath in glory wrought, his spirit swept afar. Beyond the soaring wing of thought, the light of moon. or star; To drink immortal waters, free from every taint of earth[worlds had birth! To breathe before the shrine of life, the source whence There was wailing on the early breeze, and darkness in the sky, When with sable plume and cloak and pall a funeral train swept by; Methought-St. Mary shield us well!-that other forms moved there Than those of mortal brotherhood, the noble, young, and fair! Was it a dream?-methought "the dauntless Harold" passed me by The proud "Fitz-James" with martial step, and dark, intrepid eye; That "Marmion's" haughty crest was there, a mourner for his sake; And she-the bold and beautiful!-sweet "Lady of the Lake." The "Minstrel," whose last lay was o'er, whose broken harp lay low, And with him glorious "Waverly," with glance and step of woe; And "Stuart's" voice rose there, as when, 'mid fate's disastrous war, He led the wild, ambitious, proud, and brave "Vich Ian Vohr." Next, marveling at his sable suit, the Dominie stalked past, With "Bertram,' ," "Julia" by his side, whose tears were flowing fast, · Guy Mannering," too, moved there, o'erpowered by that afflicting sight; [height. And "Merrilies," as when she wept on Ellangowan's Solemn and grave "Monkbarns" appeared amidst that burial line; And "Ochiltree" leant o'er his staff and mourned for "Auld lang syne." Slow marched the gallant "McIntyre," whilst "Lovel” mused alone; For once "Miss Wardour's" image left that bosom's faithful throne. 66 With coronach, and arms reversed, forth came MacGregor's" clan Red "Dougal's" cry pealed shrill and wild-" Rob Roy's" bold brow looked wan; The fair "Diana" kissed her cross, and blessed its sainted ray; And "Wae is me!" the "Baillie" sighed, "that I should see this day!" Next rode, in melancholy guise, with sombre vest and scarf, Sir Edward, Laird of Ellieslaw, the far-renowned "Black Dwarf;" Upon his left, in bonnet blue, and white locks flowing free The pious sculptor of the grave-stood "Old Mortality!" "Balfour of Burley," "Claverhouse," the "Lord of Evandale," And stately "Lady Margaret," whose woe might nought avail! |