"Four years it is since first I met, 'Twixt the Duchray and the Dhu, A shape whose feet clung close in a shroud, And that shape for thine I knew. "A year again, and on Inchkeith Isle I saw thee pass in the breeze, With the cerecloth risen above thy feet And wound about thy knees. "And yet a year, in the Links of Forth, As a wanderer without rest, Thou cam'st with both thine arms i' the shroud That clung high up thy breast. "And in this hour I find thee here, And well mine eyes may note That the winding-sheet hath passed thy breast And risen around thy throat. "And when I meet thee again, O King, That of death hast such sore drouth, Except thou turn again on this shore, The winding-sheet shall have moved once more And covered thine eyes and mouth. "O King, whom poor men bless for their King, Of thy fate be not so fain; But these my words for God's message take, And turn thy steed, O King, for her sake Who rides beside thy rein!" While the woman spoke, the King's horse reared As if it would breast the sea, And the Queen turned pale as she heard on the gale The voice die dolorously. When the woman ceased, the steed was still, But the King gazed on her yet, And in silence save for the wail of the sea His eyes and her eyes met. At last he said: "God's ways are His own; Man is but shadow and dust. Last night I prayed by His altar-stone; To-night I wend to the Feast of His Son; And in Him I set my trust. "I have held my people in sacred charge, And have not feared the sting Of proud men's hate, to His will resign'd Who has but one same death for a hind And one same death for a King. "And if God in His wisdom have brought close The day when I must die, That day by water or fire or air My feet shall fall in the destined snare Wherever my road may lie. "What man can say but the Fiend hath set Thy sorcery on my path, My heart with the fear of death to fill, And turn me against God's very will To sink in His burning wrath?" The woman stood as the train rode past, And moved nor limb nor eye; And when we were shipped, we saw her there Still standing against the sky. As the ship made way, the moon once more Sank slow in her rising pall; And I thought of the shrouded wraith of the King, And I said, "The Heavens know all." And now, ye lasses, must ye hear How my name is Kate Barlass: But a little thing, when all the tale Is told of the weary mass Of crime and woe which in Scotland's realm God's will let come to pass. 'T was in the Charterhouse of Perth That the King and all his Court Were met, the Christmas Feast being done, For solace and disport.