Within 't was brilliant all and light, A thronging scene of figures bright;It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight, As when the setting sun has given Ten thousand hues to summer even, And from their tissue fancy frames Aerial knights and fairy dames.

Still by Fitz-James her footing staid;

A few faint steps she forward made, Then slow her drooping head she raised, And fearful round the presence gazed;For him she sought who owned this state, The dreaded Prince whose will was fate!--She gazed on many a princely port Might well have ruled a royal court;On many a splendid garb she gazed,--

Then turned bewildered and amazed, For all stood bare; and in the room Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume.

To him each lady's look was lent, On him each courtier's eye was bent;Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen, He stood, in simple Lincoln green, The centre of the glittering ring,--And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King!