'When last this ruthful month was come, And in Linlithgow's holy dome 305 The King, as wont, was praying; While, for his royal father's soul, The chanters sung, the bells did toll, The Bishop mass was saying-- For now the year brought round again 310 The day the luckless King was slain-- In Katharine's aisle the monarch knelt, With sackcloth-shirt, and iron belt, And eyes with sorrow streaming; Around him in their stalls of state, 315 The Thistle's Knight-Companions sate, Their banners o'er them beaming. I too was there, and, sooth to tell, Bedeafen'd with the jangling knell, Was watching where the sunbeams fell, 320 Through the stain'd casement gleaming; But, while I mark'd what next befell, It seem'd as I were dreaming. Stepp'd from the crowd a ghostly wight, In azure gown, with cincture white; 325 His forehead bald, his head was bare, Down hung at length his yellow hair.-- Now, mock me not, when, good my Lord, I pledge to you my knightly word, That, when I saw his placid grace, 330 His simple majesty of face, His solemn bearing, and his pace So stately gliding on,-- Seem'd to me ne'er did limner paint So just an image of the Saint, 335 Who propp'd the Virgin in her faint,-- The loved Apostle John! XVII. 'He stepp'd before the Monarch's chair, And stood with rustic plainness there, And little reverence made; 340 Nor head, nor body, bow'd nor bent, But on the desk his arm he leant, And words like these he said, In a low voice,--but never tone So thrill'd through vein, and nerve, and bone:-- "My mother sent me from afar, 346 Sir King, to warn thee not to war,-- Woe waits on thine array; If war thou wilt, of woman fair, Her witching wiles and wanton snare, 350 James Stuart, doubly warn'd, beware: God keep thee as He may!"-- The wondering monarch seem'd to seek For answer, and found none; And when he raised his head to speak, 355 The monitor was gone. The Marshal and myself had cast To stop him as he outward pass'd; But, lighter than the whirlwind's blast, He vanish'd from our eyes, 360 Like sunbeam on the billow cast, That glances but, and dies.' XVIII.