5il BE VIEWS — BOTHWTLJC 



God ! cast it down upon my head, 



And let me cease to feel I 

 Cold — cold! The brands are burning oat, 



The dying embers wane ; 

 The drops fill plashing from the roof 



Like slow and sullen rain. 

 Cold — Cold ! And yet the villain kerns 



Who keep me fettered here, 

 Are feasting hi the hall above, 



And holding Christmas cheer. 

 "When the wind pauses for its breath, 



I hear their idiot bray, 

 Tie laugh, the shout, the stamping feet, 



The song and roundelay. 

 They pass the jest, they quaff the cup, 



The Yule-log sparkles brave, 

 They riot o-'er my dungeon vault, 



As though it were my grave. 

 Ay, howl again, thou bitter wind, 



Roar louder yet, thou sea! 

 And drown the gusts of brutal mirth 



That mock and madden me ! 

 Ho, ho, the Eagle of the North 



Has stooped upon the main ! 

 Screarr on, O eagle, in thy flight, 



Through blast and hurricane — 

 And when thou raeetest on thy way 



The black and plunging bark, 

 Where those who pilot by the stars 



Stand quaking in the dark, 

 Down with thy pinion on the mast. 



Scream louder in the air, 

 And stifle in the wallowing sea 



The shrieks of their despair t 

 Be my avenger on this night, 



When all, save I, am free ; 

 Why should I eare for mortal man, 



When men care nought for me ? 

 Care not? They loathe me, one and all, 



Else why sboold I be here — 

 I, starving in a foreign cell, 



A Scottish prince and peer?" 



The captive, thus dungeoned on a foreign strand, recalls to memory 

 the wild incidents of love and crime, and unavailing remorse ; but it 

 may be questioned whether the poet has not lost, by this artifice, the 

 vigor and life of action, as well as the richer variety which would 

 have been begot by his own direct recital of the tale. The most 

 charitable fancy challenges the truthfulness of such an autobiographic 



