Turning from the legends in verse, let it not be forgotten that
Scott was a great lyrical poet. Mr. Palgrave is not too lenient a
judge, and his "Golden Treasury" is a touchstone, as well as a
treasure, of poetic gold. In this volume Wordsworth contributes
more lyrics than any other poet: Shelley and Shakespeare come next;
then Sir Walter. For my part I would gladly sacrifice a few of
Wordsworth's for a few more of Scott's. But this may be prejudice.
Mr. Palgrave is not prejudiced, and we see how high is his value for
Sir Walter.

There are scores of songs in his works, touching and sad, or gay as
a hunter's waking, that tell of lovely things lost by tradition, and
found by him on the moors: all these--not prized by Sir Walter
himself--are in his gift, and in that of no other man. For example,
his "Eve of St. John" is simply a masterpiece, a ballad among
ballads. Nothing but an old song moves us like -


"Are these the links o' Forth, she said,
Are these the bends o' Dee!"


He might have done more of the best, had he very greatly cared.
Alone among poets, he had neither vanity nor jealousy; he thought
little of his own verse and his own fame: would that he had thought
more! would that he had been more careful of what was so precious!
But he turned to prose; bade poetry farewell.