Bothwell A Poem In Six Parts: By William Edmondstoune Aytoun: Third Edition, Revised |
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| I. | I. |
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| XVII. |
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 | Bothwell |  |
83
I.
That gaoler hath a savage look—Methinks I spy a change;
For three long years, within this room,
That man has been my only groom,
And yet his voice is strange.
He brings me food, he smoothes my bed,
Obedient to my sign;
But still his moody eye falls down,
And will not answer mine.
I had the art, in former days,
To win, by short familiar phrase,
The rudest hearts alive,—
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And force them in the battle-tide
Like thorough fiends to strive.
When Warden, I have rode alone,
Without a single spear to back,
The Marches through, although I knew
That spies were hovering on my track;
I've passed into the midst of clans
So fierce and wild, that undismayed
They would have risen, sword in hand,
Had the Queen's standard been displayed;
But never did I meet with one,
Trooper or jackman, groom or knave,
But to the ready fearless call
A frank and fearless answer gave.
| Bothwell | |