Where lay this wondrous thing; Sir William saw its beauteous form, All bright and glistering. The kinsman smiled on that fond lady, And he viewed it o'er and o'er. "'Tis a jewel of price," said that traitor then, "And worthy a prince's dower. "We'll bury the treasure where ne'er from the sun One ray of gladness shone, Where darkness and light, and day and night, And summer and spring are one: "Beneath the moat we'll bury it straight, In its box of the good oak-tree; And the cankered carle, John Highlandman, Shall never that jewel see." The kinsman took the casket up, And the lady looked over the wall: "If thou break that cup of grace, beware, The pride of our house shall fall!" The kinsman smiled as he looked above,