"'Take,' the gudewife said, 'a beggar's
Old attire; and see the mist
Where the wedding smoke is ordered
By the lips which thou hast kissed.'
"Thou hast put our ring together
Can it be as one again?"
Then she raised her face, and proudly
Spoke unto her serving-men:
"See you where the Baron's people
Come with him along the road?
Go and tell them quickly, 'Colin
Rules again his own abode.'"
Fled the traitor, pulses beating,
Not with love, but craven fear;
And the beggar found the treasure
That to noble hearts is dear.
Found the love no time had altered,
Honoured lived, and honoured died;
And in Rhodes and in Glenorchy
Honoured shall his name abide.
LOCH BÚY
PART I.
Dark, with shrouds of mist surrounded.
Rise the mountains from the shore,
Where the galleys of the Islesmen
Stand updrawn, their voyage o'er.
Horns this morn are hoarsely sounding
From Loch Búy's ancient wall,
While for chase the guests and vassals
Gather in the court and hall.
Hounds, whose voices could give warning
From far moors of stags at bay,
Quiver in each iron muscle,
Howl, impatient of delay.