Chapter XLIX: Part II

He passed the court-gate, and he oped the tower-grate,
And he mounted the narrow stair,
To the bartizan seat, where, with maids that on her wait,
He found his Lady fair.

That Lady sat in mournful mood;
Looked over hill and vale;
Over Tweed’s fair flood, and Mertoun’s wood,
And all down Teviotdale.

“Now hail, now hail, thou Lady bright!”--
“Now hail, thou Baron true!
What news, what news, from Ancram fight?
What news from the bold Buccleuch?”--

“The Ancram Moor is red with gore,
For many a Southern fell;
And Buccleuch has charged us, evermore,
To watch our beacons well.”--

The Lady blushed red, but nothing she said:
Nor added the Baron a word:
Then she stepped down the stair to her chamber fair,
And so did her moody lord.

In sleep the Lady mourned, and the Baron tossed and turned,
And oft to himself he said,--
“The worms around him creep, and his bloody grave is deep,
It cannot give up the dead!”--