'I coveted that Abbey's doom; For if, I thought, the early flowers Of our affection may not bloom, Like those green hills, through countless hours, Grant me at least a tardy waning, Some pleasure still in age's paining; Though lines and forms must fade away, Still may old Beauty share the empire of Decay! 'But looking toward the grassy mound Where calm the Douglas chieftains lie Who, living, quiet never found, I straightway learnt a lesson high: For there an old man sat serene, And well I knew that thoughtful mien Of him whose early lyre had thrown Over these mouldering walls the magic of its tone. 'Then ceased I from my envying state, And knew that aweless intellect Hath power upon the ways of fate, And works through time and space uncheck'd. That minstrel of old chivalry In the cold grave must come to be, But his transmitted thoughts have part In the collective mind, and never shall depart. 'It was a comfort, too, to see Those dogs that from him ne'er would rove, And always eyed him reverently, With glances of depending love. They know not of that eminence Which marks him to my reasoning sense; They know but that he is a man, And still to them is kind, and glads them all he can.' That same summer Mrs. Hemans, visiting the Hamiltons at Chiefswood, was daily at Abbotsford. Lockhart has no mention of the occasion. See, however, the references in the 'Journal.' As with Miss Edgeworth, Scott piloted the 'poet of womanhood' to Yarrow, and over into Ettrick, and in the Rhymer's Glen he related the incident which gave origin to her inspiring 'Rhine Song.'[10] At parting with her, he said, 'There are some whom we meet and should like ever after to claim as kith and kin; and you are one of these.' Susan Ferrier, authoress of 'Marriage,' 'Inheritance,' etc., novels of the older school (in need of modern revival), visited Scott in 1829, and again in 1831. 'This gifted personage,' says the 'Journal,'' besides having great talents, has conversation the least _exigeante_ of any author--female, at least--whom I have ever seen among the long list I have encountered--simple, full of humour, and exceedingly ready at repartee; and all this without the least affectation of the blue-stocking.'[11] [Illustration: THE RHYMER'S GLEN] 'Come now, O Queen of Faery, With the first love-steps of spring; The larch holds out its tassels, The birks their splendour fling. * * * * * Thy Rhymer's Glen is yearning, Methinks thou tarriest long, While breeze, and bird, and burnie Sing one expectant song.'