"Thus, while I ape the measure wild, Of tales that charmed me--yet a child, Rude though they be, still with the chime Return the thoughts of early time; And feelings roused in life's first day, Glow in the line, and prompt the lay; Then rise those crags, that mountain tower, Which charmed my fancy's wakening hour. Though no broad river swept along, To claim perchance heroic song; Though sigh no groves in summer gale, To prompt of love a softer tale, Yet was poetic impulse given By the green hill and clear blue heaven. It was a barren scene, and wild, Where naked cliffs were rudely piled, But ever and anon between Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green; And well the lovely infant knew Recesses where the wall-flower grew. And honeysuckle loved to crawl Up the low crag and ruined wall. I deemed such nooks the sweetest shade The sun in all its round surveyed; And still I thought that shattered tower The mightiest work of human power; And marvelled as the aged hind, With some strange tale bewitched my mind, Of foragers who, with headlong force Down from that strength had spurred their horse, Their southern rapine to renew Far in the distant Cheviot's blue, And home returning filled the hall, With revel, wassail-route and brawl.-- Methought that still with tramp and clang The gateway's broken arches rang; Methought grim features seamed with scars, Glared through the window's rusty bars. And even by the winter hearth; Old tales I heard of woe or mirth, Of lovers' sleights, of ladies' charms, Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms; Of patriot battles won of old By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold; Of later fields of feud and fight, When pouring from their Highland height, The Scottish clans in headlong sway, Had swept the scarlet ranks away. While stretched at length upon the floor, Again I fought each combat e'er, Pebbles and shells in order laid The mimic ranks of war displayed; And onward still the Scottish lion bore, And still the scattered Southron fled before." In addition to this, young Scott was a perfect _helluo librorum_. He had access to a large library filled with romances, histories, biographies, and so forth, which he indiscriminately devoured. His memory was quick and tenacious, and his mind became stored with all sorts of facts, fables and fancies. Still, even in youth, he possessed a sound judgment, a clear, well balanced mind, and separated the chaff from the wheat with tolerable discrimination. His father was a good Presbyterian, and did what he could to imbue his mind with religious principles, which never deserted him. Among the first lines he is known to have written are the following. They were found wrapped up in a paper inscribed by Dr. Adam of the Edinburgh High School, 'Walter Scott, July, 1783.'