A plunge! and he holds her round the waist!
Three strokes of his arm, with his beautiful prize
All safe, although faint, on the bank she lies!
A cottager's wife came running down,
"Take care of the ladye," said the clown.
He has donned his clothes, and away he has gone,
His name unuttered, his home unknown.


IV.

Up in the ancient Castle of Weir
Sat the baron, the knight, and the fair Tomasine;
And the baron he looked at his daughter dear,
While the salt tears bleared his aged eyne;
And then to the steward, with hat in hand:
"Make known unto all, from Tweed to Tyne,
A hundred rose nobles I'll give to the man
Who saved the life of my Tomasine."
Sir Hubert cried out, in an envious vein,
"Who is he that will vouch for the lurdan loon?
There's no one to say he would know him again,
And another may claim the golden boon."
Then said the ladye, "My eyes were closed,
And I never did see this wondrous man;
And the cottar woman she hath deposed
He was gone ere his features she could scan."
"Ho!" cried the baron, "I watched him then,
As I stood on the opposite bank afeared;
Of a hundred men I would ken him again,