"And thus, for both, he madly planned
The ruin of himself and land."

For these two artful women he sacrificed the true happiness of his home.

"Nor England's fair, nor France's Queen,
Were worth one pearl-drop bright and sheen,
From Margaret's eyes that fell,--
His own Queen Margaret, who, in Lithgow's bower
All lonely sat, and wept the weary hour."

In gay Holy-Rood, Dame Heron, Lady of Norham, smiled at the King,
glanced archly at the courtiers, and ably played the coquette. When
asked to draw from the harp music to charm the ring of admirers, she
laughed, blushed, and with pretty oaths, by yea and nay, declared she
could not, would not, dare not! At length, however, she seated herself
at Scotland's loved instrument, touched and tuned the strings, laid
aside hood and wimple, the better to display her charms, and with a
borrowed simplicity well assumed, sang a lively air, Lochinvar.

"Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wild border his steed was the best;
And, save his good broadsword, he weapon had none,
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone;
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

"He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone;
He swam the Esk river, where ford there was none;
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,