A touch of Allan's hand
For all the honours she could gain
From duke or earl, lord or thane,
Or knight in all the land.

She knew the price she had to pay
For this her secret love;
But where's a will there is a way,
And Kate she would it prove.
The will we know, the way's obscure,
Deep in her soul confined;
What quick invention might secure,
With love for the inspiring power,
Was in that maiden's mind.

"Now, Allan," she said, with a silent laugh,
In eyes both quaint and keen,
"Thou must not fear, for here I swear
By Coz. Saint Catharine,
'Twas easier for this doughty knight
To hold these horns he dared,
Than take for wife by a father's right,
Against the spurn of a maiden's spite,
The daughter of Ravensbeard."

"No, no, fair lady," George Allan said--
With tears his eyes were full--
"'Tis easier to force the will of a maid,
Than hold by the horns a bull."
"Yes! yes! of the maids who say a prayer,