Looks for his guerdon[107] in thy hand;
Full soon may dispensation[108] sought,
To back his suit, from Rome be brought.
Then, though an exile on the hill,
Thy father, as the Douglas, still
Be held in reverence and fear;
And though to Roderick thou’rt so dear,
That thou mightst guide with silken thread,
Slave of thy will, this Chieftain dread,
Yet, O loved maid, thy mirth refrain!