The Lay Of The Last Minstrel: Canto Iii. Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Sir Walter Scott

The Lay Of The Last Minstrel: Canto Iii. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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I	A
And said I that my limbs were old	B
And said I that my blood was cold	B
And that my kindly fire was fled	C
And my poor wither'd heart was dead	C
And that I might not sing of love	D
How could I to the dearest theme	E
That ever warm'd a minstrel's dream	E
So foul so false a recreant prove	F
How could I name love's very name	G
Nor wake my heart to notes of flame	G
	-
II	A
In peace Love tunes the shepherd's reed	H
In war he mounts the warrior's steed	H
In halls in gay attire is seen	I
In hamlets dances on the green	I
Love rules the court the camp the grove	J
And men below and saints above	D
For love is heaven and heaven is love	D
	-
III	A
So thought Lord Cranstoun as I ween	I
While pondering deep the tender scene	I
He rode through Branksome's hawthorn green	I
But the Page shouted wild and shrill	K
And scarce his helmet could he don	I
When downward from the shady hill	K
A stately knight came pricking on	I
That warrior's steed so dapple gray	L
Was dark with sveat and splashed with clay	L
His armor red with many a stain	I
He seem'd in such a weary plight	M
As if he had ridden the live long night	M
For it was William of Deloraine	I
	-
IV	D
But no whit weary did he seem	E
When dancing in the sunny beam	E
He mark'd the crane on the Baron's crest	N
For his ready spear was in his rest	N
Few were the words and stern and high	D
That mark'd the foemen's feudal hate	O
For question fierce and proud reply	D
Gave signal soon of dire debate	O
Their very coursers seem'd to know	I
That each was other's mortal foe	I
And snorted fire when wheel'd around	P
To give each foe his vantage ground	P
	-
V	D
In rapid round the Baron bent	Q
He sigh'd a sigh and pray'd a prayer	R
The prayer was to his patron saint	S
The sigh was to his ladye fair	R
Stout Deloraine nor sigh'd nor pray'd	T
Nor saint nor ladye call'd to aid	T
But he stoop'd his head and couch'd his spear	U
And spurred his steed to full career	U
The meeting of these champions proud	V
Seem'd like the bursting thunder cloud	V
	-
VI	D
Stern was the dint the Borderer lent	Q
The stately Baron backwards bent	Q
Bent backwards to his horse's tail	W
And his plumes went scattering on the gale	W
The tough ash spear so stout and true	X
Into a thousand flinders flew	X
But Cranstoun's lance of more avail	W
Pierc'd through like silk the Borderer's mail	W
Through shield and jack and acton past	Y
Deep in his bosom broke at last	Y
Still sate the warrior saddle fast	Y
Till stumbling in the mortal shock	Z
Down went the steed the girthing broke	A2
Hurl'd on a heap lay man and horse	B2
The Baron onward pass'd his course	B2
Nor knew so giddy rolled his brain	I
His foe lay stretch'd upon the plain	I
	-
VII	D
But when he rein'd his courser round	P
And saw his foeman on the ground	P
Lie senseless as the bloody clay	L
He badehis page to stanch the wound	P
And there beside the warrior stay	L
And tend him in his doubtful state	O
And lead him to Brauksome castle gate	O
His noble mind was inly moved	C2
For the kinsman of the maid he loved	D2
'This shalt thou do without delay	L
No longer here myself may stay	L
Unless the swifter I speed away	L
Short shrift will be at my dying day '	-
	-
VIII	D
Away in speed Lord Cranstoun rode	E2
The Goblin Page behind abode	E2
His lord's command he ne'er withstood	F2
Though small his pleasure to do good	F2
As the corslet off he took	G2
The Dwarf espied the Mighty Book	G2
Much he marvell'd a knight of pride	H2
Like a book bosom'd priest should ride	H2
He thought not to search or stanch the wound	P
Until the secret he had found	P
	-
IX	B2
The iron band the iron clasp	I2
Resisted long the elfin grasp	I2
For when the first he had undone	I
It closed as he the next begun	I
Those iron chlsps that iron band	J2
Would not yield to unchristen'd hand	J2
Till he smear'd the cover o'er	K2
With the Borderer's curdled gore	L2
A moment then the volume spread	C
And one short spell therein he read	C
It had much of glamour might	M
Could make a ladye seem a knight	M
The cobwebs on a dungeon wall	M2
Seem tapestry in lordly hall	M2
A nut shell seem a gilded barge	N2
A sheeling seem a palace large	N2
And youth seem age and age seem youth	O2
All was delusion nought was truth	O2
	-
X	B2
He had not read another spell	P2
When on his cheek a buffet fell	P2
So fierce it stretch'd him on the plain	I
Beside the wounded Deloraine	I
From the ground he rose dismay'd	T
And shook his huge and matted head	C
One word he mutter'd and no more	L2
'Man of age thou smitest sore '	-
No more the Elfin Page durst try	D
Into the wondrous Book to pry	D
The clasps though smear'd with Christian gore	L2
Shut faster than they were before	L2
He hid it underneath his cloak	A2
Now if you ask who gave the stroke	A2
I cannot tell so mot I thrive	D
It was not given by man alive	D
	-
XI	B2
Unwillingly himself he address'd	N
To do his master's high behest	N
He lifted up the living corse	B2
And laid it on the weary horse	B2
He led him into Branksome hall	M2
Before the beards of the warders all	M2
And each did after swear and say	B2
There only pass'd a wain of hay	B2
He took him to Lord David's tower	K2
Even to the Ladye's secret bower	K2
And but that stronger spells were spread	C
And the door might not be opened	Q2
He had laid him on her very bed	C
Whate'er he did of gramarye	R2
Was always done maliciously	B2
He flung the warrior on the ground	P
And the blood well'd freshly from the wound	P
	-
XII	B2
As he repass'd the outer court	S2
He spied the fair young child at sport	S2
He thought to train him to the wood	F2
For at a word be it understood	F2
He was always for ill and never for good	F2
Seem'd to the boy some comrade gay	B2
Led him forth to the woods to play	B2
On the drawbridge the warders stout	T2
Saw a terrier and lurcher passing out	T2
	-
XIII	B2
He led the boy o'er bank and fell	P2
Until they came to a woodland brook	G2
The running stream dissolv'd the spell	P2
And his own elvish shape he took	G2
Could he have had his pleasure vilde	T2
He had crippled the joints of the noble child	T2
Or with his fingers long and lean	I
Had strangled him in fiendish spleen	I
But his awful mother he had in dread	T2
And also his power was limited	T2
So he but scowl'd on the startled child	T2
And darted through the forest wild	T2
The woodland brook he bounding cross'd	T2
And laugh'd and shouted 'Lost lost lost '	-
	-
XIV	D
Full sore amaz'd at the wondrous change	U2
And frighten'd as a child might be	B2
At the wild yell and visage strange	U2
And the dark words of gramarye	R2
The child amidst the forest bower	K2
Stood rooted like a lily flower	K2
And when at length with trembling pace	B2
He sought to find where Branksome lay	B2
He fear'd to see that grisly face	B2
Glare from some thicket on his way	B2
Thus starting oft he journey'd on	I
And deeper in the wood is gone	I
For aye the more he sought his way	B2
The farther still he went astray	B2
Until he heard the mountains round	T2
Ring to the baying of a hound	T2
	-
XV	D
And hark and hark the deep mouth'd bark	V2
Comes nigher still and nigher	B2
Bursts on the path a dark blood hound	T2
His tawny muzzle track'd the ground	T2
And his red eye shot fire	B2
Soon as the wilder'd child saw he	B2
He flew at him right furiouslie	B2
I ween you would have seen with joy	W2
The bearing of the gallant boy	W2
When worthy of his noble sire	B2
His wet cheek glow'd 'twixt fear and ire	B2
He faced the blood hound manfully	B2
And held his little bat on high	D
So fierce he struck the dog afraid	T2
At cautious distance hoarsely bay'd	T2
But still in act to spring	X2
When dash'd an archer through the glade	T2
And when he saw the hound was stay'd	T2
He drew his tough bow string	X2
But a rough voice cried 'Shoot not hoy	W2
Ho shoot not Edward 'tis a boy '	-
	-
XVI	D
The speaker issued from the wood	T2
And check'd his fellow's surly mood	T2
And quell'd the ban dog's ire	B2
He was an English yeoman good	T2
And born in Lancashire	B2
Well could he hit a fallow deer	B2
Five hundred feet him fro	B2
With hand more true and eye more clear	B2
No archer bended bow	Y2
His coal black hair shorn round and close	B2
Set off his sun burn'd face	B2
Old England's sign St George's cross	B2
His barret c	B2