Old Cormac seemed resolutely determined that he at least should not be omitted in the dramatis personæ of this most memorable day. At an early hour, therefore, with due intention of the full performance of his resolve, he was seen flitting from alley green to the dark embowered wood, bearing his constant companion, his harp; and as the old gardener somewhat quaintly expressed it, "he was for a' the warld like a hen on a het girdle!"
Old honest Cormac's intention could not long be mistaken or misunderstood; for soon with right shoulder forward, and strong intuitive confidence, he stoutly marched onward, nor did the veteran halt until he had reached Lady Adelaide's flower garden, where he was often accustomed to sit and play; where having arrived, he soon seated himself upon a rustic chair, beneath the casement of the Lady Adelaide's chamber, where anon he began to strum and tune his harp. The moment that the sightless bard had begun his minstrelsy, vocal and instrumental, it was with considerable delight and joy that he distinctly heard the casement window of Lady Adelaide to be thrown open. Meanwhile the lovely fair (in whose honest praise the poetic raptures of the ancient minstrel were composed) looked down upon her old, faithful, and favourite bard, while mirthfully he sung and accompanied the following:—
nuptial song.
Sweet Robin, perch'd on yonder spray,
So sweetly sings his matin lay,
To welcome forth this brilliant day,
And greet the Bruce and Adelaide!
Behold the sun with genial gleam,
O'er the lofty mountain beam,