Page:Pleasant Memories.pdf/94

Here too they stoutly stood at bay,
    Or frowning sped along,
To meet the highborn cavalier
    In conflict fierce and strong.

And here's the hawthorn-broidered nook,
    Where Drummond, not in vain,
Awaited his inspiring muse,
    And wooed her dulcet strain.
And there's the oak, beneath whose shade
    He welcomed tuneful Ben,
And still the memory of their words
    Is nursed in Hawthornden.

Flowers! Flowers! how thick and rich they grow,
    Along the garden fair,
And sprinkle on the dewy sod
    Their gifts of fragrance rare.
Methinks from many a heather bell
    Peeps forth some fairy lance,
And then a tiny foot protrudes,
    All ready for the dance;

Methinks 'neath yon broad laurel leaf
    They hold their revels light,
Imprinting with a noiseless step
    The mossy carpet bright;