ng
Then sat in Dunfermline; he heard the tale
Of our distress, and flew himself to save;
But when he saw my sister Margaret, 110
Young, innocent, and beautiful in tears,
His heart was moved.
Oh! welcome here, he cried:
'Tis Heaven hath led you. Lady, look on me--
If such a flower be cast to the bleak winds,
'Twere meet I took and wore it next my heart.
Judged he not well, fair maid?
Thou know'st the rest; 118
Compassion nurtured love, and Margaret
(Such are the events of ruling Providence)
Is now all Scotland's queen!
To join the bands
Of warriors in one cause assembled here,
King Malcolm left his land of hills; his arm
Might make the Conqueror tremble on his throne!
Even should we fail, my sister Margaret
Would love and honour you; and I might hope,
(Oh! might I?) on the banks of Tay or Tweed
With thee to wander, where no curfew sounds,
And mark the summer sun, beyond the hills, 130
Sink in its glory, and then, hand in hand,
Wind through the woods, and--
Adela replied,
With smile complacent, Listen; I will be
(So to beguile the creeping hours of time)
A tale-teller. Two years we held sojourn
In Denmark; two long weary years, and sighed
When, looking on the southern deep, we thought
Of our poor country. Give me men and ships!
Godwin still cried; oh! give me men and ships! 140
The king commanded, and his armament--
A mightier never stemmed the Baltic deep,
Sent forth by sea-kings of the north, or bent
On hardier enterprise; for not some isle
Of the lone Orcades was now the prize,
But England's throne.
His mighty armament
Now left the shores of Denmark. Our brave ships
Burst through the Baltic straits, how gloriously!
I heard the trumpets ring; I saw the sails 150
Of nigh three hundred war-ships, the dim verge
Of the remote horizon's skiey track 152
Bestudding, here and there, like gems of light
Dropped from the radiance of the morning sun
On the gray waste of waters. So our ships
Swept o'er the billows of the north, and steered
Right on to England.
Foremost of the