the heavy armoured horse?


"Unchallenged, thence passed Deloraine,
To ancient Riddell's fair domain,
Where Aill, from mountains freed,
Down from the lakes did raving come;
Each wave was crested with tawny foam,
Like the mane of a chestnut steed,
In vain! no torrent, deep or broad,
Might bar the bold moss-trooper's road;
At the first plunge the horse sunk low,
And the water broke o'er the saddle-bow."


These last two lines have the very movement and note, the deep heavy
plunge, the still swirl of the water. Well I know the lochs whence
Aill comes red in flood; many a trout have I taken in Aill, long
ago. This, of course, causes a favourable prejudice, a personal
bias towards admiration. But I think the poetry itself is good, and
stirs the spirit, even of those who know not Ailmoor, the mother of
Aill, that lies dark among the melancholy hills.

The spirit is stirred throughout by the chivalry and the courage of
Scott's men and of his women. Thus the Lady of Branksome addresses
the English invaders who have taken her boy prisoner:-


"For the young heir of Branksome's line,
God be his aid, and God be mine;