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This Legend is founded upon a tradition current in Northumberland. Indeed, an adventore nearly similar to Sir Guy's, is said to have taken place in various parts of Great Britain, particularly on the Pentland Hills in Scotland, (where the prisoners are supposed to be King Arthur and bis Knights of the Round Table,) and in Lancashire, where an ale-bouse near Chorley still exbibits the sign of a Sir John Stauley following an old man with a torch, wbile his horse starts back in terror at the objects which are discovered through two immense iron gates the ale house is known by the name of the “ IRON Gates,” which are supposed to protect the entrance of an enebanted cavern in the neighbourhood—the female captive, we believe, is peculiar to Dunstanburgh Castle ; and certain shining stones, which are occasionally found in its neighbourhood, and which are called DUNSTANBURGH DIAMONDS,” are supposed hy the peasants to form part of that immense treasure, with which the lady will reward her deliverer.-lo Wallis's “ History of the Antiquities of Northumber. land," the castle is described as follows :-“ It stands on an eminence of several acres, sloping gently to the sea, and on the north and porth-west edged with precipices in the form of a crescent: by the western termination of which are three natural stone pyramids of a considerable height, and by the eastern one an opening in the rocks made by the sea, under a frightful precipice, called Ramble Churn, from the breaking of the waves in tempestuous weather and high seas. Above this is the main entrance, and by it the ruins of the chapel : at the south-west corner is the draw-well, partly filled up. It is built with rag and wbiustone."
LIKE those in the head of a man just dead Up the hill Sir Guy made his courser Ay,
Are his eyes, and his beard's like snow; And hoped, from the wind and the rain But when here he came, his glance was a
That he there should find some refuge kind, flame,
But he sought it long in vain. And his locks seemed the plumes of the crow.
For fast and hard each portal was barred,
And agaiost his efforts proof;
The shelter of its roof.
“ Gramercy, St. George !" quoth glad Sir
And fast to the yew, which near it grew,
And safety found on that sheltered ground But find can be ne'er the winding stair, From the sky's increasing gloom, Which he past that beauty to see,
From his brow he took his casque, and he Whom spells enthrall in the haunted hall,
shook Where none but once may be.
The raiu off, that burthened its plume. That once regret will not let him forget! Then long he stood in mournful mood 'Twas night and pelting showers
With listless sollen air, Did patter and splash when the lightning's Propped on his lance, and with indolent flash
glance Showed Dunstanburgh's grey towers. Watched the red lightning's glare.
Raised high on a mound that castle frowned
In ruined pagean-trie;
Its towers hung o'er the sea.
And sadly listened to the shower,
On the clattering roof that fell;
Tolled by some distant bell.
When louder roared the thunder,
Aud burst the gates asuyder.
Proud they stood and darkened the flood;
For the cliffs were so rugged and steep, Had a plummet been dropt from their sum
mit unstopped That plummet had reached the deep.
Nor flower there grew; nor tree e'er drew
Its purture from that ground,
Their baleful shade around.
Loud was the roar on that sounding shore;
Yet still could the knight discern, Louder than all, the s well and the fall
Of the bellowing Rumble Churn!
With a strange turmoil did it bubble and
boil, And echo from place to place; So strong was its dash, and so high did it
And lo! through the dark a glimmering
Soon struck his wondering view.
Gigantic was bis height;
A beard of grizzled white.
And down his beard they streamed;
Of burning iron gleamed.
A wond'rous robe be wore,
lo fire embroidered o'er.
With a triple chain red-hot !
Till he reached the self-same spot.
The spray as it broke appeared like smoke
From a sea-volcano pouring ;
And a hundred shafts of laboured brouze
The fretted roof upheld; And the ponderous gloom of that vaulted
A hundred lights dispelled.
And a dead man's arm by a magic charm
Each glimmering taper bore, And where it was lopp’d, still dropp'd and
And now they go both high and low,
Above and under ground,
Aud round, and round, and round !
The owlet's boding screech,
A winding stair they reach.
brand, Still on the wizard led ; And well could Sir Guy hear a sob and a
sigh, As up the first flight he sped ! While the second he past with footsteps fast
He beard a death bell toll! While he climbed the third, a whisper he
A brazen gate before
Was the bolt, which held the door.
With venop its jaws ran o'er ;
dropp'd Thick gouts of clotted gore.
Where ends the room, doth a chrystal tomb
Its towering front ophold ;
Which belonged to two giants of old.
That on the right holds a faulchion bright,
That on the left a horn;
Their eyeless skulls adorn.
Add both these grim colossal kings
With fingers long and lean Point tow'rds the tomb, within whose womb
A captive dame is seer.
A form more fair than that prisoner's, ne'er
Since the days of Eve were known ; Every glance that few from her eyes of
blue, Was worth an emperor's throne, And one sweet kiss from her roseate lips
Would have melted a bosom of stone.
“ At its maker's birth long trembled the
“ But such keen woe, as never can know
Oblivion's balmy power,
Till comes your dying hour. • Your choice now make for yon beauty's
sake; To burst her bonds endeavour; But that wbich you choose, beware how you
lose ; Once lost, 'tis lost for ever!"In pensive mood awhile now stood
Sir Guy, and gazed around; Now he turned his sight to the left, to the
right, Now he fixed it on the ground. Now the faulchion's blaze attracted his gaze
On the bilt his fingers lay; But he heard fear cry"You're wrong,
North and the West ;
caught, And press'd it to his mouth. Hark! the blast is a blast so stroug and so
sbrill, That the vaults like thunder ring ; And each marble horse stamps the floor
As now with ponderous tread
Their spears to strike him dead.
I wot, the startled knight!
His faulchion keen and bright.
Was heard'a sry of grief;
Made desperate of relief!
quite, Save the flame so Jurid blue On the wizard's brow, (whose flashings now
Assumed a bloody bue,) And those sparks of Gre, which grief and ire
From his glaring eye-balls drew !
The skies dropp'd showers of gore;
“ And at Satan's right hand while keeping
his stand, The foulest fiend of fire Shrunk back with awe, when the babe he
“ But hark, Sir Knight! and riddle aright
The riddle I'll riddle to thee : Thou'lt learn a way without delay
To set yon damsel free.
See'st yonder sword, with jewels rare,
Its dudgeon crusted oʻer?
'Twas Merlin's horn of yore!
« That horn to sound, or sword to draw,
Now, youth, your choice explain;
“ And that once lost, all hopes are crost,
Which now you fondly furm; And that once gone, the sun ne'er shone
sadder wight to warm ;
“ Now shame on the coward who sounded
Whence the neighbours all the knight now
call By “ Guy, the Seeker's" name ;, For never he knows one hour's repose
From bis wish to find the dame.
He said, and from his mouth there came
A vapour blue and dank,
Morning breaks! again he wakes ;
Lo! in the porch be lies,
Which shot from the captive's eyes.
But still he seeks, and aye he seeks,
And seeks, and seeks in vain ;
“ Could I find the sword again !". Which words he follows with a groan,
As if his heart would break;
It makes all bearers quake!
And when they hear it poured,
Groans for the wizard's sword.".
From the ground he springs ! as if he had
His anxious eyes explore.
Which he climbed that dame to see,
Where none but once may be.
Beholds bis search begun;
Nor yet his search is done.
Twice twenty springs on their fragrant
wings For his wound have brought no balm; For still he's found. But hark! what
sound Disturbs the midnight calm ? Good peasants tell, why rings that knell ?
« Tis the Seeker-Guy's we toll: “ His race is run ; his search is done."
God's mercy on his soul !
On the English side of the sea of tion, namely, the cottage of Miles ColSolway lies a long line of flat and un- vine, the Cumberland mariner. The elevated coast, where the sea-fowl find owner of this rude dwelling, once a refuge from the gun of the fowler, and seaman, a soldier, a scholar, and a genwhich, save the head-land and the deep tleman, was shipwrecked on the coast sea, presents but one object of attrac- about thirty years ago, and was the