Now day was gone, and night was come,
And all were fast asleep,-
All, save the Lady Emmeline,

Who sat in her bower to weep.

And soon she heard her true lover's voice
Low whispering at the wall,-
Awake, awake, my dear Lady!
"Tis I, thy true love, call.

Awake, awake, my Lady dear!

Come mount this fair palfrey:

This ladder of ropes will let thee down, I'll carry thee hence away.

Now nay, now nay, thou gentle Knight,
Now nay, this may not be;

For aye should ʼn tint my maiden fame,
If alone I should wend with thee.

O lady, thou with a knight so true
May'st safely wend alone;

To my lady mother I will thee bring,
Where marriage shall make us one.

My father is a Baron bold,

Of lineage proud and high,

And what would he say if his daughter Away with a knight should fly?

Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,
Nor his meat should do him no good,
Till he had slain thee, Child of Elle!
And seen thy dear heart's blood.

O lady, wert thou in thy saddle set,
And a little space him fro,

I would not care for thy cruel father,
Nor the worst that he could do.

O lady, wert thou in thy saddle set,
And once without this wall;

I would not care for thy cruel father,
Nor the worst that might befall.

Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
And aye her heart was woe:

At length he seized her lily-white hand,
And down the ladder he drew.

And thrice he clasped her to his breast,
And kissed her tenderly:

The tears that fell from her fair eyes,
Ran like the fountain free.

He mounted himself on his steed so tall,
And her on a fair palfrey;
And slung his bugle about his neck;
And roundly they rode away.

All this beheard her own damsel,
In her bed whereas she lay.
Quoth she, My lord shall know of this,

So I shall have gold and fee.

Awake, awake, thou Baron bold!

Awake, my noble dame!

Your daughter has fled with the Child of Elle,

To do the deed of shame.

The Baron he woke, the Baron he rose,

And called his merry men all:

And come thou forth, Sir John the Knight,

The lady is carried to thrall.

Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,—

A mile forth of the town,

When she was aware of her father's men

Come galloping over the down.

And foremost came the carlish Knight,
Sir John of the North country;
Now stop, now stop, thou false traitor!
Nor carry that lady away.

For she is come of high lineage,

And was of a lady born,

And ill it beseems thee, a false churl's son, To carry her hence to scorn.

Now, loud thou liest, Sir John the Knight,
Now thou dost lie of me;

A knight me got, and a lady me bore-
So never did none by thee.

But light now down, my lady fair!
Light down, and hold my steed,
While I and this discourteous knight
Do try this arduous deed.

But light now down, my dear lady!
Light down, and hold my horse,
While I and this discourteous knight
Do try our valour's force,

Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,

And her heart was woe,

aye

While 'twixt her love and the carlish knight, Past many a baleful blow.

The Child of Elle he fought so well,

As his weapon he waved amain,
That soon he had slain the carlish knight,
And laid him upon the plain.

And now the Baron and all his men,

Full fast approached nigh:

Ah! what may Lady Emmeline do?

"T were now no boot to fly.

Her lover he put his horn to his mouth,
And blew both loud and shrill;

And soon he saw his own merry men
Come riding over the hill.

Now hold thy hand, thou bold Baron,
I pray thee, hold thy hand;
Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts,
Fast knit in true-love's band.

Thy daughter I have dearly loved
Full long, and many a day,—
But with such love as holy Church
Hath freely said we may.

O give consent she may be mine,
And bless a faithful pair;

My lands and livings are not small,
My house and lineage fair:

My mother she was an Earl's daughter;

A noble knight my sire.

The Baron he frowned, and turned away,

With mickle dole and ire.

Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
And did all trembling stand:

At length she sprang upon her knee,
And held his lifted hand. *

Pardon, my Lord and father dear,

This fair young Knight and me:
Trust me, but for the carlish Knight,
I ne'er had fled from thee.

Oft have you called your Emmeline
Your darling and your joy:
O, let not, then, your harsh resolves
Your Emmeline destroy!

* See FRONTISPIECE.

The Baron he stroked his dark-brown cheek,

And turned his head aside,

To wipe away the starting tear

He proudly strove to hide.

In deep revolving thought he stood,

And mused a little space;

Then raised fair Emmeline from the ground,
With many a fond embrace.

Here! take her, Child of Elle, he said;
And gave her lily white hand,-
Here, take my dear and only child,
And with her, half my land.

Thy father once mine honour wronged,
In days of youthful pride:

Do thou the injury repair,

In fondness for thy bride!

And as thou love, and hold her dear,
Heaven prosper thee and thine!

And now my blessing wend with thee,
My lovely Emmeline !

PERCY.