Wyseby

22
WYSE3V. A LEGEND
And he saw, as he entered his own native vale,
The red lightning flung back from their steel-caps and mail :
Lo ! a flash reveal'd near him his own mountain hold ; —
Then loud laugh'd in derision Lord Walter the Bold.
Ha ! a laugh, wild as madness, arose by his side,
Like his own, 'twas a laugh of derision and pride ;
And a form he would shun met the glance of his eye,
As his steed on the wings of the tempest swept by.
In a voice render'd awful by hatred and scorn,
Wild taunts on the tract of his fleet steed were borne —
" Spare thy steed, dastard knight ! for thy strong mountain
hold
Cannot shelter thee now, base Lord Walter the Bold ! "
But on, on dash'd the knight, and the foemen dash'd on —
His thoughts were of safety, theirs of vengeance alone ;
But they mark'd not the path that turned short to the hold ; —
" We are safe, my brave steed !" cried Lord Walter the Bold.
The near thunder had ceased, and the wind was less loud —
The moon burst in glory through the rent of a cloud ;
What appals the Lord Walter — why shouts he so wild ?
" Oh ye fiends ! spare my wife ! spare my innocent child ! "
See, he falls ! — A deep voice rung through ruin and glade,
' { Lo ! dread vengeance was due. It is paid ! it is paid !"
The hold was in ruins ; 'mid its ashes and gloom
The fair child and its mother had both found a tomb.
Kinsmen mustered, fierce throngs, vows of vengeance were
said ;
And they scoured every glen, and far forays they made. -
'Twas in vain ! 'twas in vain ! for nought e'er was reveal'd
Of that secret so awful, by mystery seal'd,
Save that flames wrapt at midnight that strong mountain hold,
With the wife and the child of Lord Walter the Bold.
When the minstrel had finished, loud shouts of
applause burst from the wild throng. The chief