For there is dancing and deray
In the ancient castle of Holmylee,
And barons bold and ladies gay
Are holding high-jinks revelry.
Sir Robert has that day been wed,
'Midst sounding trumpets of éclat,
And one that night will grace his bed
Of nobler birth than Ailie Faa.
Revenge will claim its high command,
And Ailie is on her feet erect,
She passes nervously her hand
Between her jupe and jerkinet.
There lies a charm for woman's wrong,
Concealed where beats the bursting heart,
Which, ere an hour hath come and gone,
Will play somewhere a fatal part.
IV.
Up in the hall of Holmylee
Still sound the revel, the dance, and song,
And through the open doors and free
There pours the gay and stately throng;
But of all the knights and barons there,
The bridegroom still the foremost stood,
And she the fairest of the fair,
The bride who was of noble blood.
It was when feet were tripping
The mazes of the dance,
It was when lips were sipping
The choicest wines of France,
A wild scream rose within the hall,
Which pierced the roofen tree,
And in the midst was seen to fall
The Baron of Holmylee.
"To whom belongs this small stilette.
By whom our host is slain?"
Between a jupe and jerkinet
That weapon long had lain.
Each on his sword his hand did lay,
This way and that they ran;
But she who did the deed is away,
Ho! catch her if you can.
VI.
THE LEGEND OF THE FAIR EMERGILDE
I.
Thou little god of meikle sway,
Who rul'st from pole to pole,
And up beyond yon milky way,
Where wondrous planets roll:
Oh! tell me how a power divine,
That tames the creatures wild,
Whose touch benign makes all men kin,
Could slay sweet Emergilde?