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Walter Scott - Rokeby: Canto VI.
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A mantle o`er the corse he laid: 
"Fell as he was in act and mind, 
He left no bolder heart behind: 
Then give him, for a soldier meet, 
A soldier`s cloak for winding sheet." 

XXXIV. 
No more of death and dying pang, 
No more of trump and bugle clang, 
Though through the sounding woods there come 
Banner and bugle, trump and drum. 
Arm`d with such powers as well had freed 
Young Redmond at his utmost need, 
And back`d with such a band of horse, 
As might less ample powers enforce; 
Possess`d of every proof and sign 
That gave an heir to Mortham`s line, 
And yielded to a father`s arms 
An image of his Edith`s charms,— 
Mortham is come, to hear and see 
Of this strange morn the history. 
What saw he?—not the church`s floor 
Cumber`d with dead and stain`d with gore; 
What heard lie?—not the clamorous crowd, 
That shout their gratulations loud: 
Redmond he saw and heard alone, 
Clasp`d him, and sobb`d, "My son, my son!" 

XXXV. 
This chanced upon a summer morn, 
When yellow waved the heavy corn: 
But when brown August o`er the land 
Call`d forth the reaper`s busy band, 
A gladsome sight the sylvan road 
From Eglistone to Mortham show`d. 
Awhile the hardy rustic leaves 
The task to bind and pile the sheaves, 
And maids their sickles fling aside, 
To gaze on bridegroom and on bride, 
And childhood`s wondering group draws near, 
And from the gleaner`s hands the ear 
Drops, while she folds them for a prayer 
And blessing on the lovely pair. 
`Twas then the Maid of Rokeby gave 
Her plighted troth to Redmond brave; 
And Teesdale can remember yet 
How Fate to Virtue paid her debt, 
And, for their troubles, bade them prove 
A lengthen`d life of peace and love. 
Time and Tide had thus their sway, 
Yielding like an April day, 
Smiling noon for sullen morrow, 
Years of joy for hours of sorrow!
The End.
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