78 SCOTLAND ILLUSTRATED. 



sweetness of her voice— tlie suavity of her manners— or the still more povv^erful 

 eloquence of her beauty ; and in this conviction, perhaps, she felt a bitter fore- 

 taste of the trials that avsraited her, and to which her own obstinacy, and a too 

 credulous reliance on evil counsel, had paved the way. 



The preceding locality, and its scenery, have been so correctly embodied in 

 an anonymous poem, entitled " Mary's Mount," that we feel pleasure in 

 quoting the following lines, as a graphic illustration of the subject. 



Who, standing on this rural spot, 

 With groves above, and gardens round, 

 Would e'er indulge the chilling thought 

 That blood had drenched the hostile ground — 

 Or trumpet's clang, and steed's career, 

 And War's wild tumult revelled here ? 

 Or think this leafy screen enfolded 



A Being of as tragic fate — 



As lovely and unfortunate 

 As nature ever moulded ? 



Traced like a map the landscape lies. 

 In cultured beauty stretching wide ; 

 There, Pentland's green acclivities ; 

 Here, Ocean, with its azure tide : 

 There, Akthur's-seat ; and gleaming thro' 

 Its southern wing, Dunedin blue ! 

 While, in the orient, Lammer's daughters, 



A distant giant range, are seen ; 



North Berwick-law, with cone of green, 

 And Bass amid the waters ! 



Wrapt in the mantle of her woe 

 Here agonized Mary stood, 

 And s^aw contending hosts below 

 Press forward to the deadly feud. 

 With hilt to hilt, and hand to hand, 

 The children of one mother-land, 

 For battle met ! The banners flaunted 

 Amid Carberry's beechen grove ; 

 And kinsmen braving kinsmen, strove. 



Undaunting, and undaunted ! 



Silent the Queen in sorrow stood, 

 When Bothwell, starting forward, said — 

 ' The cause is mine '. — a nation's blood, 

 (Go, tell yon chiefs,) should not be shed! 

 Go — bid the bravest heart advance 

 In single fight to measure lance 

 With me — who wait prepared to meet him !' 



' Fly, Bothwell, fly ! It shall not be !' 

 She wept — she sobbed — on bended knee 

 Fair Mary did entreat him ! — 

 . . . ' I go,' he sighed, ' the war is mine — 

 A Nero could not injure thee : 

 My lot is sealed on earth — but thine 

 Shall long, and bright, and happy be I 

 This last farewell — this struggle o'er — 

 We ne'er shall see each other more ! . . . 

 Now, loose thy hold . . . thou broken-heai ted ! 



She faints — she falls. — Upon his roan 

 The bridle reins in haste are thrown. 

 The pilgrim hath departed ! 



Know ye the tenour of his fate 1 

 A fugitive among his own 

 Disguised — deserted — desolate — 

 A weed upon the torrent thrown — 

 A Cain among the sons of men — 

 A pirate on the ocean — then 

 A Scandinavian captive, fettered 

 To die amid the dungeon gloom !•" 



The parish of Inveresk, in the immediate neighbourhood of Musselburgh, 

 abounds in picturesque scenery ; and by the intermingling charms of wood and 

 water, the magnificent view which it commands of the estuary of the Forth, 

 and the cultivated shores of Fife, never fails to attract numerous visitors from 

 the capital, and the adjacent counties. The " hill," which here forms the general 

 point of rendezvous, exhibits numerous traces of having been chosen by the 



• See " Literary Coronal.' 



