My liege hath deemed it shame, and lack Of courtesy, to turn him back; And, by his order, I, your guide, Must lodging fit and fair provide, Till finds King James meet time to see The flower of English chivalry."— IX. Though inly chafed at this delay, Sought to take leave in vain : The right-hand path they now decline, And trace against the stream the Tyne. X. At length up that wild dale they wind, Where Crichtoun-Castle crowns the bank; For there the Lion's care assigned A lodging meet for Marmion's rank. That Castle rises on the steep Of the green vale of Tyne ; And far beneath, where slow they creep Where alders moist, and willows weep, You hear her streams repine. The towers in different ages rose; Their various architecture shows The builders' various hands; A mighty mass, that could oppose, The vengeful Douglas bands. Oft have I traced within thy fort, Of mouldering shields the mystic sense, Scutcheons of honour, or pretence, Quartered in old armorial sort, Remains of rude magnificence: Nor wholly yet hath time defaced Thy lordly gallery fair; Nor yet the stony cord unbraced, Whose twisted knots, with roses laced, Adorn thy ruined stair. Still rises unimpaired, below, The court-yard's graceful portico; Above its cornice, row and row Of fair hewn facets richly show Though there but houseless cattle go, To shield them from the storm. And, shuddering, still may we explore, Where oft whilome were captives pent, The darkness of thy Massy More ; * Or, from thy grass-grown battlement, May trace, in undulating line, The sluggish mazes of the Tyne. XII. Another aspect Crichtoun shewed, As through its portal Marmion rode; For none were in the castle then, But women, boys, or aged men. With eyes scarce dried, the sorrowing dame, To welcome noble Marmion, came; * The pit, or prison-vault.-See Note. |