G RYFFE Castle, dreary, old, and lone,
Look'd out from lichens grey,
And made its moan o'er heroes gone,
And glories pass'd away.
It stood on an embattled bank,
Beside a murm'ring stream,
Where waved some willows old and lank,
Like spectres in a dream.

The moat's fill'd up, the drawbridge gone,
Half hid in mosses grey;
A fall'n old hero cut in stone
Blocks up the narrow way.
The Castle had its secret nooks,
And many a dusty den,
With parchments old, and steel-clad books,
And skeletons of men;

With crucibles, retorts, and jars;
And scatter'd round them lay
Stuff'd reptiles, coil'd among the spars,
From regions far away.
There dwelt Sir William and his dog —
The only friend he had;
Folk said it was a friend incog. ,
That he himself was mad;

That often they'd together walk,
When there was work on hand,
And had their confidential talk
None else could understand;
That he was wrathful in his way,
And fond of bitter oaths,
And talk'd of neighbors as if they
Were just so many Goths.

" His talk, " they said, " was all a maze
No mortal could make out;
There was a craze in all his ways —
Ay, mad! with ne'er a doubt. "
Their story ran " that in his youth
A jilt set him a-gley,
And losing faith in love and truth,
A misanthrope grew he.

" When, lo! the shout of Liberty
Rang over Europe wide,
For France resolv'd she would be free,
Whatever might betide.
And when he first heard of the fray,
Like ane gane gyte was he,
And instantly he rush'd away
To fight for Liberty.

" And many a long year pass'd away
Ere aught was heard of him;
E'en in this place, home of his race,
His memory grew dim.
Then rumor said he tint his mind
When Freedom's bubble burst;
Then said that he was guillotined
Among the very first.

" But 'twas believ'd he fled away
From scenes he could not brook,
And serv'd in many a glorious day
'Neath Britain's Iron Duke. "
" It's best to let Sir Willie be, "
Auld Elder Jamie said,
" For he's no canny — often he
Has dealings wi' the dead.

" The leddy dee't repentin' sair
That e'er his path she crost,
And noo she haunts the Castle stair,
A lanely, wailing ghost.
Puir man, to hell he selt himsel',
An' giet Heav'n in exchange,
For wealth his fill and pow'r at will
Owre a' the world to range.

" He's very learned, too, they say,
Amang the warlock tribe,
And winds and waves his word obey —
He's baith their king and scribe.
And weel its kent that fearfu' dug
Is no' the thing it seems:
When ye wad think it sleepin' snug,
Or huntin' hares in dreams,

" It's rinnin' a' the worl' aroun'
For a' shapes it can tak',
And noo it is a tinkler's loun,
Broom besom on his back;
And then an auld man wi' a beard
That reaches to his waist,
And dauners roun' some auld kirk-yaird,
An's neither man nor ghaist.

" Its whiles a traiveler late at e'en,
Upon a weary nag;
And then a bouncin' gypsy queen,
Or some auld wither'd hag.
And when unlook'd-for death-ca's come,
Amid the grief and din
O' that sad hoose, as quait's a moose,
That dug comes slinkin' in.

" And when they foun' the waun'ert weans
That perish'd in the sike,
Wha's sittin' on their blacken'd banes
But that great towsy tyke?
When auld Curfufell droont himsel' —
Guid keep us a' frae sin! —
Wha's watchin' by the open well
But " Lang Lugs," leukin' in?

" Whan ma wee oe was near his last,
And I was in a fyke,
I knelt to pray — when in my way
There lay the gruesome tyke.
And up it cam' my han' to lick,
As innocent's a lamb,
And oh, my bluid juist curdled thick
When it join'd in the psalm!

" It tried to droun our voices doun',
Which stopp'd us a'thegither;
In deidly plicht we swat wi' fricht,
And stared at ane anither.
When Elder John, that man o' God,
Near to his en' did lie,
The winds were loune, and towers o' doun
Were hangin' in the sky;

" The sunbeam sleepin' on the lea,
An' heav'n an' earth sae still,
The very silence ye could see
On river, vale, and hill.
And hush'd was ilka bonnie bird,
E'en craws had quat their din,
And no the faintest sooch was heard
Owre Locher's roarin' linn.

" Ye wad hae thocht that angels bricht
Were hoverin' roun' his bed,
For a' the time a heav'nly licht
Upon his face was shed.
He seem'd to waun'er in his min',
Kept talkin' to his wean
(That dee't, I think, in auchty-nine)
As 't were alive again.

" Then cam' a chapman to the door,
Wha suddenly took fricht,
Wheelt roun', and wi' a bark and roar
Was aff and oot o' sicht.
Wha that was weel the watchers kent,
For like a flame he flew,
As if the sword e'en o' the Lord
In vengeance did pursue.

" The Castle's built on goblin caves,
Where souls o' little worth,
Wha canna lie still in their graves,
Come back to trouble earth.
And weel its kent to all aroun'
That aye on Hallowe'ens
Sir Willie's there in his arm-chair
Wi' his beheidit frien's.

" An' aye on that unhallow'd nicht,
When a' that's guid's asleep,
The Castle's in a bleeze o' licht,
Frae tower to donjon keep;
An' ghaists, that ne'er hae been at rest
Since auld saint-killin' times,
That waun'er roun' the worl' distrest,
In penance o' their crimes,

" Wi' gruesome hags, to mak' their manes,
Frae mony a hole come oot,
An' swarms o' wee unchrist'nt weans
Are yaumerin' roun' aboot.
Its terrible — its waur than sin! —
To hear the loud reports
Come thun'rin' frae the vaults wherein
He keeps thae black retorts.

" An' ever at the fearfu' soun'
The dug sets up its yell,
An' a' the craws come gabblin' roun',
Like imps let lowse frae hell.
Owre lang they've kep' the laun' in dreed,
And muckle ill they've dune;
Judgment is hinging owre their heid,
An' canna come owre sune.

" Something to set the world agaze
Maun soon owretak' the twa —
Its like the haill howff in a blaze
Shall pass from earth awa'.
I wadna be surprised to see
Fire rain'd doun on the bike!
Ay! there's be news, afore they dee,
O' him an' o' his tyke. "