And the tones of her voice had that deadly growl Of the bloodhound that scents its prey; No storm was so dark as that lady's scowl Under tresses of wintry gray. "Lord Ronald! men marry for love or gold, Mickle rich must have been thy bride!" "Man's heart may be bought, woman's hand be sold, On the banks of our northern Clyde. "My bride is, in sooth, mickle rich to me Though she brought not a groat in dower, For her face, couldst thou see it as I do see, Is the fairest in hall or bower!" Quoth the bishop one day to our lord the king, "Satan reigns on the Clyde alway, And the taint in the blood of the witch doth cling To the child that she brought to day. "Lord Ronald hath come from the Paynim land With a bride that appals the sight; Like his dam she hath moles on her dread right hand, And she turns to a snake at night. "It is plain that a Scot who can blindly dote On the face of an Eastern ghoul, And a ghoul who was worth not a silver groat, Is a Scot who has lost his soul. "It were wise to have done with this demon tree Which has teemed with such caukered fruit; Add the soil where it stands to my holy See, And consign to the flames its root." "Holy man!" quoth King James, and he laughed, "we know That thy tongue never wags in vain, But the Church cist is full, and the king's is low, And the Clyde is a fair domain. "Yet a knight that's bewitched by a laidly fere Needs not much to dissolve the spell; We will summon the bride and the bridegroom here Be at hand with thy book and bell." PART III. Lord Ronald stood up in King James's court, And his dame by his dauntless side; The barons who came in the hopes of sport Shook with fright when they saw the bride. The bishop, though armed with his bell and book, Grew as white as if turned to stone; It was only our king who could face that look, But he spoke with a trembling tone. "Lord Ronald, the knights of thy race and mine Should have mates in their own degree; What parentage, say, hath that bride of thine Who hath come from the far countree? "And what was her dowry in gold or land, Or what was the charm, I pray, That a comely young gallant should woo the hand Of the ladye we see to-day?" And the lords would have laughed, but that awful dame Struck them dumb with her thunder-frown: "Saucy king, did I utter my father's name, Thou wouldst kneel as his liegeman down. "Though I brought to Lord Ronald nor lands nor gold, Nor the bloom of a fading cheek; Yet, were I a widow, both young and old Would my hand and my dowry seek. "For the wish that he covets the most below, And would hide from the saints above, Which he dares not to pray for in weal or woe, Is the dowry I bring my love.