Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland…
“ He cannot see an old ruin, be it of a castle or a peel tower, but he must know what its possessors did in the days of the red Flodden or the desperate Drumclog—a good old grandam, but he must hear of a legend of foray, or tournay, or love: "A story old Of baron bold, Or trollëd lay Of lady gaye;"and laugh or weep over the details, as they come from lips trembling as if with inspiration.Nor does time ever end legend, or the love of it, in the true legendary lands. Time's embalming yields the incense, which, like the sweetness of the vestal lamp, is fragrant for ever. ”
