VII.

Old Holyrood rung merrily That night with wassail, mirth, and glee: King James within her princely bower Feasted the chiefs of Scotland’s power, Summoned to spend the parting hour; For he had charged that his array Should southward march by break of day. Well loved that splendid monarch aye The banquet and the song, By day the tourney, and by night The merry dance, traced fast and light, The maskers quaint, the pageant bright, The revel loud and long. This feast outshone his banquets past: It was his blithest—and his last. The dazzling lamps, from gallery gay, Cast on the Court a dancing ray; Here to the harp did minstrels sing; There ladies touched a softer string; With long-eared cap and motley vest The licensed fool retailed his jest; His magic tricks the juggler plied; At dice and draughts the gallants vied; While some, in close recess apart, Courted the ladies of their heart, Nor courted them in vain; For often in the parting hour Victorious Love asserts his power O’er coldness and disdain; And flinty is her heart, can view To battle march a lover true— Can hear, perchance, his last adieu, Nor own her share of pain.