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Mysterious Rhymer, doom'd by fate's decree, Still to revisit Eildon's fated tree; Where oft the swain, at dawn of Hallow-day, Hears thy fleet barb with wild impatience neigh; Say who is he, with summons long and high.
We learn about such things as "Gatherings" at Hocktide, May-day, All Hallow-day, Christmas, and Whitsuntide, the men stopping the women on one day and demanding money, while on the next day the women retaliated, and always gained more for the parish fund than those of the opposite sex: Church Ales, the Holy Loaf, Paschal Money, Watching the Sepulchre, the duties of clerks and clergymen, and much else, besides the general principles of local self-government, which the vestrymen carried on until quite recent times.
"Mysterious Rhymer, doomed by fate's decree Still to revisit Eildon's fated tree, Where oft the swain, at dawn of Hallow-day, Hears thy fleet barb with wild impatience neigh, Say, who is he, with summons long and high, Shall bid the charmed sleep of ages fly, Roll the long sound through Eildon's caverns vast, While each dark warrior kindles at the blast, The horn, the falchion, grasp with mighty hand, And peal proud Arthur's march from Fairy-land?"
Mysterious Rhymer, doom'd by fate's decree, Still to revisit Eildon's fated tree; Where oft the swain, at dawn of Hallow-day, Hears thy fleet barb with wild impatience neigh; Say who is he, with summons long and high.
As it was on hallow-day, I am determined annually as that day returns, to decorate her horns with an ode of gratitude to the family of Dunlop. So soon as I know of your arrival at Dunlop, I will take the first conveniency to dedicate a day, or perhaps two, to you and friendship, under the guarantee of the Major's hospitality.
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