On A Visit Paid to
THE RUINS OF MELROSE ABBEY
By the Countess of Dalkeith, * and her son,
Lord Scott.
By the Rev. John Marriott, A.M.
Abbots of Melrose, wont of yore
The dire anathema to pour
On England's hated name;
See, to appease your injured shades
And expiate her Border raids,
She sends her fairest Dame.
Her fairest Dame those shrines has graced,
That once her boldest Lords defaced;
Then let your hatred cease;
The prayer of import dread revoke,
Which erst indignant fury spoke,
And pray for England's peace.
If, as it seems to Fancy's eye,
Your sainted spirits hover nigh,
And haunt this once-loved spot;
That youth's fair open front behold,
His step of strength, his visage bold,
And hail a genuine Scott.
Yet think that England claims a part
In the rich blood that warms his heart,
And let your hatred cease;
The prayer of import dire revoke,
Which erst indignant fury spoke,
And pray for England's peace.
Pray, that no proud insulting foe
May ever lay her temples low,
Or violate her fanes;
No moody fanatic deface
The works of wondrous art, that grace
Antiquity's remains. **
* {The Honourable Harriett Townsend, daughter of Thomas, first Viscount Sidney, and wife of Charles, Earl of Dalkeith, afterwards Duke of Buccleuch and Queensbury, died in 1814. - ED.}
** Melrose Abbey was reduced to its present ruinous state, partly by the English barons in their hostile inroads, and partly by John Knox and his followers.
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