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

Rhyme Scheme: ABBCCDEEFGG AHHIIJDD AIIIKIKILLIMMI DEENNDODOIIPP DQRSRTTUUVV DQQWWXXWWYYYZA2B2B2I I DPPLPLOOC2D2LLLL DE2E2F2F2G2G2H2H2PP B2I2I2IIJ2J2K2L2CCMM M2M2N2N2O2O2 B2P2P2IITCL2L2DDL2L2 A2A2DD B2NNB2B2M2M2B2B2K2K2 CQ2CR2B2PP B2S2S2F2F2F2B2B2T2T2 B2P2G2P2G2T2T2IIT2T2 T2T2T2T2 DU2B2U2R2K2K2B2B2B2B 2IIB2B2T2T2 DV2B2T2T2B2B2B2W2W2B 2B2B2DT2T2X2T2T2X2W2 W2 DT2T2B2T2B2B2B2B2Y2B 2B2B2B2T2T2B2B2 DIB2IB2IB2IB2T2T2 DZ2Z2B2B2B2B2B2B2B2 B2B2A3B2B2T2T2T2B2Y2 B2 B2W2DIIT2B2T2B2B2B2I I B2B2B2B2W2W2A3B2B2B2 B2B2B2T2T2T2T2 B2T2T2IIDB3DB3T2T2T2 T2 B2T2T2T2T2B2B2B2B2T2 T2B2T2B2B2B2 DB2B2C3C3B2B2T2T2III IT2T2B2B2 DIIT2T2B2B2D3D3 DB3B3T2T2B2B2T2T2T2T 2G2G2 DB2B2T2T2B2B2T2T2IIT 2B2B2B2DDB2B2 DT2T2E3T2E3T2B2T2T2F 3T2F3B2B2 B2T2T2IDDIIIT2T2T2T2 IIT2T2B2B2B2B2 B2G3B2G3B2B2B2B2B2T2 T2II B2B2B2B2H3H3T2T2T2IT 2IB2B2IB2B2B3B3H3I3B 2B2B2B2T2T2B2B2B2B2

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	L
	-
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	L2
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	T2
	-
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	W2
	-
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 cap did grace	B2
His bugle horn hung by his side	T2
All in a wolf skin baldric tied	T2
And his short falchion sharp and clear	B2
Had pierc'd the throat of many a deer	B2
	-
XVII	D
His kirtle made of forest green	I
Reach'd scantly to his knee	B2
And at his belt of arrows keen	I
A furbish'd sheaf bore he	B2
His buckler scarce in breadth a span	I
No larger fence had he	B2
He never counted him a man	I
Would strike below the knee	B2
His slacken'd bow was in his hand	T2
And the leash that was his blood hound's band	T2
	-
XVIII	D
He would not do the fair child harm	Z2
But held him with his powerful arm	Z2
That he might neither fight nor flee	B2
For when the Red Cross spied he	B2
The boy strove long and violently	B2
Now by St George the archer cries	B2
Edward methinks we have a prize	B2
This boy's fair face and courage free	B2
Show he is come of high degree	B2
	-
XIX	B2
Yes I am come of high degree	B2
For I am the heir of bold Buccleuch	A3
And if thou dost not set me free	B2
False Southron thou shalt dearly rue	B2
For Walter of Harden shall come with speed	T2
And William of Deloraine good at need	T2
And every Scott from Esk to Tweed	T2
And if thou dost not let me go	B2
Despite thy arrows and thy bow	Y2
I'll have thee hang'd to feed the crow	B2
	-
XX	B2
Gramercy for thy good will fair boy	W2
My mind was never set so high	D
But if thou art chief of such a clan	I
And art the son of such a man	I
And ever comest to thy command	T2
Our wardens had need to keep good order	B2
My bow of yew to a hazel wand	T2
Thou'lt make them work upon the Border	B2
Meantime be pleased to come with me	B2
For good Lord Dacre shalt thou see	B2
I think our work is well begun	I
When we have taken thy father's son	I
	-
XXI	B2
Although the child was led away	B2
In Branksome still he seem'd to stay	B2
For so the Dwarf his part did play	B2
And in the shape of that young boy	W2
He wrought the castle much annoy	W2
The comrades of the young Buccleuch	A3
He pinch'd and beat and overthrew	B2
Nay some of them he wellnigh slew	B2
He tore Dame Maudlin's silken tire	B2
And as Sym Hall stood by the fire	B2
He lighted the match of his bandelier	B2
And wofully scorch'd the hackbuteer	B2
It may be hardly thought or said	T2
The mischief that the urchin made	T2
Till many of the castle guess'd	T2
That the young Baron was possess'd	T2
	-
XXII	B2
Well I ween the charm he held	T2
The noble Ladye had soon dispell'd	T2
But she was deeply busied then	I
To tend the wounded Deloraine	I
Much she wonder'd to find him lie	D
On the stone threshold stretch'd along	B3
She thought some spirit of the sky	D
Had done the bold moss trooper wrong	B3
Because despite her precept dread	T2
Perchance he in the Book had read	T2
But the broken lance in his bosom stood	T2
And it was earthly steel and wood	T2
	-
XXIII	B2
She drew the splinter from the wound	T2
And with a charm she stanch'd the blood	T2
She bade the gash be cleans'd and bound	T2
No longer by his couch she stood	T2
But she has ta'en the broken lance	B2
And wash'd it from the clotted gore	B2
And salved the splinter o'er and o'er	B2
William of Deloraine in trance	B2
Whene'er she turn'd it round and round	T2
Twisted as if she gall'd his wound	T2
Then to her maidens she did say	B2
That he should be whole man and sound	T2
Within the course of a night and day	B2
Full long she toil'd for she did rue	B2
Mishap to friend so stout and true	B2
	-
XXIV	D
So pass'd the day the evening fell	B2
'Twas near the time of curfew bell	B2
The air was mild the wind was calm	C3
The stream was smooth the dew was balm	C3
E'en the rude watchman on the tower	B2
Enjoy'd and bless'd the lovely hour	B2
Far more fair Margaret lov'd and bless'd	T2
The hour of silence and of rest	T2
On the high turret sitting lone	I
She waked at times the lute's soft tone	I
Touch'd a wild note and all between	I
Thought of the bower of hawthorns green	I
Her golden hair stream'd free from band	T2
Her fair cheek rested on her hand	T2
Her blue eyes sought the west afar	B2
For lovers love the western star	B2
	-
XXV	D
Is yon the star o'er Penchryst Pen	I
That rises slowly to her ken	I
And spreading broad its wavering light	T2
Shakes its loose tresses on the night	T2
Is yon red glare the western star	B2
O 'tis the beacon blaze of war	B2
Scarce could she draw her tighten'd breath	D3
For well she knew the fire of death	D3
	-
XXVI	D
The Warder view'd it blazing strong	B3
And blew his war note loud and long	B3
Till at the high and haughty sound	T2
Rock wood and river rung around	T2
The blast alarm'd the festal hall	B2
And startled forth the warriors all	B2
Far downward in the castle yard	T2
Full many a torch and cresset glared	T2
And helms and plumes confusedly toss'd	T2
Were in the blaze half seen half lost	T2
And spears in wild disorder shook	G2
Like reeds beside a frozen brook	G2
	-
XXVII	D
The Seneschal whose silver hair	B2
Was redden'd by the torches' glare	B2
Stood in the midst with gesture proud	T2
And issued forth his mandates loud	T2
On Penchryst glows a bale of fire	B2
And three are kindling on Priest haughswire	B2
Ride out ride out	T2
The foe to scout	T2
Mount mount for Branksome every man	I
Thou Todrig warn the Johnstone clan	I
That ever are true and stout	T2
Ye need not send to Liddesdale	B2
For when they see the blazing bale	B2
Elliots and Armstrongs never fail	B2
Ride Alton ride for death and life	D
And warn the Warder of the strife	D
Young Gilbert let our beacon blaze	B2
Our kin and clan and friends to raise	B2
	-
XXVIII	D
Fair Margaret from the turret head	T2
Heard far below the coursers' tread	T2
While loud the harness rung	E3
As to their seats with clamor dread	T2
The ready horsemen sprung	E3
And trampling hoofs and iron coat	T2
And leaders' voices mingled notes	B2
And out and out	T2
In hasty route	T2
The horsemen gallop'd forth	F3
Dispersing to the south to scout	T2
And east and west and north	F3
To view their coming enemies	B2
And warn their vassals and allies	B2
	-
XXIX	B2
The ready page with hurried hand	T2
Awaked the need fire's slumbering brand	T2
And ruddy blush'd the heaven	I
For a sheet of flame from the turret high	D
Wav'd like a blood flag on the sky	D
All flaring and uneven	I
And soon a score of fires I ween	I
From height and hill and cliff were seen	I
Each with warlike tidings fraught	T2
Each from each the signal caught	T2
Each after each they glanc'd to sight	T2
As stars arise upon the night	T2
They gleam d on many a dusky tarn	I
Haunted by the lonely earn	I
On many a cairn's grey pyramid	T2
Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid	T2
Till high Dunedin the blazes saw	B2
From Soltra and Dumpender Law	B2
And Lothian heard the Regent's order	B2
That all should bowne them for the Border	B2
	-
XXX	B2
The livelong night in Branksome rang	G3
The ceaseles sound of steel	B2
The castle bell with backward clang	G3
Sent forth the larum peal	B2
Was frequent heard the heavy jar	B2
Where massy stone and iron bar	B2
Were piled on echoing keep and tower	B2
To whelm the foe with deadly shower	B2
Was frequent heard the changing guard	T2
And watch word from the sleepless ward	T2
While wearied by the endless din	I
Blood hound and ban dog yell'd within	I
	-
XXXI	B2
The noble Dame amid the broil	B2
Shared the grey Seneschal's high toil	B2
And spoke of danger with a smile	B2
Cheer'd the young knights and council sage	H3
Held with the chiefs of riper age	H3
No tidings of the foe were brought	T2
Nor of his numbers knew they aught	T2
Nor what in time of truce he sought	T2
Some said that there were thousands ten	I
And others ween'd that it was nought	T2
But Leven clans or Tynedale men	I
Who came to gather in black mail	B2
And Liddesdale with small avail	B2
Might drive them lightly back agen	I
So pass'd the anxious night away	B2
And welcome was the peep of day	B2
Ceas'd the high sound The listening throng	B3
Applaud the Master of the Song	B3
And marvel much in helpless age	H3
So hard should be his pilgrimage	I3
Had he no friend no daughter dear	B2
His wandering toil to share and cheer	B2
No son to be his father's stay	B2
And guide him on the rugged way	B2
Ay once he had but he was dead	T2
Upon the harp he stoop'd his head	T2
And busied himself the strings withal	B2
To hide the tear that fain would fall	B2
In solemn measure soft and slow	B2
Arose a father's notes of woe	B2

Walter Scott (sir)

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