PART I

The good Lord Douglas paced the deck, And oh, his face was wan! Unlike the flush it used to wear When in the battle-van.--

“Come hither, come hither, my trusty Knight, Sir Simon of the Lee; There is a freit lies near my soul I fain would tell to thee.

“Thou know’st the words King Robert spoke Upon his dying day: How he bade me take his noble Heart And carry it far away;

“And lay it in the holy soil Where once the Saviour trod, Since he might not bear the blessed Cross, Nor strike one blow for God.

“Last night as in my bed I lay, I dreamed a dreary dream:-- Methought I saw a Pilgrim stand In the moonlight’s quivering beam.

“His robe was of the azure dye, Snow-white his scattered hairs, And even such a cross he bore As good Saint Andrew bears.

“‘Why go ye forth, Lord James,’ he said, ‘With spear and belted brand? Why do you take its dearest pledge From this our Scottish land?

“‘The sultry breeze of Galilee Creeps through its groves of palm, The olives on the Holy Mount Stand glittering in the calm.

“‘But ’tis not there that Scotland’s Heart Shall rest by God’s decree, Till the great Angel calls the dead To rise from earth and sea!

“‘Lord James of Douglas, mark my rede! That Heart shall pass once more In fiery fight against the foe, As it was wont of yore.

“‘And it shall pass beneath the Cross, And save King Robert’s vow; But other hands shall bear it back, Not, James of Douglas, thou!’

“Now, by thy knightly faith, I pray, Sir Simon of the Lee-- For truer friend had never man Than thou hast been to me--

“If ne’er upon the Holy Land ’Tis mine in life to tread, Bear thou to Scotland’s kindly earth The relics of her dead.”

The tear was in Sir Simon’s eye As he wrung the warrior’s hand-- “Betide me weal, betide me woe, I’ll hold by thy command.

“But if in battle-front, Lord James, ’Tis ours once more to ride, Nor force of man, nor craft of fiend, Shall cleave me from thy side!”