Dreaming, doubting, moping, Hopelessly still hoping, Dimly, darkly groping My being's mystery; This sobbing and this sighing, This laughing and this crying, This living and this dying-- Man's mortal history! Why this wild contention? This mocking, cruel invention-- What the deep intention? Who shall give replies? Demons wildly sporting, God's beautiful distorting, Or His own hand extorting Sin-born penalties? IV. Those with whom I started Oceans wide have parted: Some are broken-hearted, Some lie in the clay; Those I once heard prattle, For whom I shook the rattle, Engaged in life's vain battle, Push me off the way. The world's laugh it jeers me, Their looks they seem to fear me, I hear them whisper near me, "Old man, why linger here?" She who loved me dearly, Wandered with me cheerily, Is now a phantom merely, Seen through memory's tear. Pale ghost, flitting yonder! With drooping head you wander. Deep in thought you ponder Why I stay from thee; Cease those hands to beckon, Vain, vain, may you reckon; Alas! I cannot quicken Death's desired decree. Weary, weary wandering, Life's last moments squandering, Weary, weary wandering Through this world of sin, None can undeceive me, None but ONE relieve me, None but ONE receive me, His peace to enter in. XXIV. THE SIEGE: A DRAMATIC TALE. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.--SIR ALEXANDER SETON, Governor of Berwick; RICHARD and HENRY, his sons. PROVOST RAMSAY. HUGH ELLIOT, a traitor. KING EDWARD. EARL PERCY. MATILDA, wife of Seton; etc. SCENE I.--_A Street--the Market-place_. _Enter_ SIR ALEXANDER SETON, RICHARD _and_ HENRY (_his sons_), PROVOST RAMSAY, HUGH ELLIOT, _and others of the People_. _Provost Ramsay_.--Brither Scotchmen! it is my fixed an' solemn opinion, that the King o' England has entered into a _holy alliance_ wi' the enemy o' mankind! An' does he demand us to surrender!--to gie up our toun!--our property!--our lives!--our liberty!--to Southern pagans, that hae entered into compact wi' the powers o' the air! Surrender! No, Scotchmen! While we breathe, we will breathe the _breath o' Freedom!_ as it soughs down the Tweed, between the heathery hills o' our ain auld country! I am but provost o' Berwick, Sir Alexander, an' ye are its governor; an' in a time like this, the power o' defending or surrendering the gates is yours; but though ye gie up the keys this very hour, an' were every stane o' the walls turned are upon anither--here!--the power to defend this market-place is mine!--and _here_ will I stand, while this hand can wield a sword, or a Scotchman is left to die by my side! _Sir Alex_.--Fear not, good provost; I through life have learned To live with honour, or with honour fall. _Richard_.--And as the father dies, so shall his sons. What sayest thou, Henry? _Henry_.--I would say but this-- (If one with a smooth chin may have a voice)-- When thou dost nobly fall, I'll but survive To strike revenge--then follow thy example.