For heading now their yeomen stout,
The brother chiefs appear'd;

Each, with an animating shout,
His trusty vassals cheer'd.

Nought could the gallant youths withstand, With ardour fresh they led

The remnant of their faithful band,

O'er heaps of foemen dead.

And Richard Percy rais'd his voice,

Duke Argyle to defy;

"Fain would'st thou at our fall rejoice, "Now yield thyself or die."

No word in answer he address'd,
The spear his wrath did tell;
It enter'd Richard Percy's breast,
And Richard Percy fell.

The brothers saw their brother's wound,

At once their jav'lins flew,

And Robert Percy's entrance found,

And Argyle's life-blood drew.

Then blush'd his breast-plate with his gore,
With smiles the foe he ey'd;
The jav❜lin from his bosom tore,
And like a soldier died.

Young Murray saw his Argyle bleed,
The chief he could not save,

But Murray would avenge the deed,
And share the warrior's grave.

In anguish for a moment's space,
He on the corse did look,
Then to the battle turn'd his face,

And dreadful vengeance took.

Full oft upon his mailed coat,
The thirsty swords did glance;
Full oft his tow'ry helm was smote,
By the more pond'rous lance.

Choosing the shaft with care, I trow,

To do a deed of fear,

An English archer bent a bow,
And strain'd it to his ear.

He twang'd the string, the arrow went Unerring to its goal,

On its keen point was freedom sent, For Murray's mighty soul.

On Argyle's corse was Murray seen, Such friends death could not part, The fatal arrow's wing, I ween,

Was crimson'd in his heart.

The Percy in the ruthless fray

The victory obtain'd;

Yet ne'er before was such a day,

By Percy's valour gain'd.

Long shall the Minstrel tune his lyre,

That day to celebrate,

Which saw two faithful friends expire, Both plighted to one fate,

PARAPHRASE

ON THE

LAST WORDS OF THE EMPEROR ADRIAN.

DEATHLESS, ever active guest,

Pleasing tenant of this breast,
Fleeting thing, that now art leaving
This dull body, and receiving
Thy dismission from a clime
Darken'd by the clouds of time!
Whither, whither art thou flying;
To what unknown region hieing,
Now that a perpetual night
Shuts me from the cheerful light?
Trembler, thou art full of fears,
As futurity appears.