No word her choking voice commands,—
She show’d the ring—she clasp’d her hands.
Oh! not a moment could he brook,
The generous Prince, that suppliant look!
Gently he raised her; and, the while,
Check’d with a glance the circle’s smile;
Graceful, but grave, her brow he kiss’d,
And bade her terrors be dismiss’d:—
“Yes, Fair; the wandering poor Fitz-James
The fealty of Scotland claims.