Like his good saint, I'll pay his meed, With angels fair and good. 430 They bring to cheer the way."— 435 XXVI. "Ah! noble sir," young Selby said, And finger on his lip he laid, "This man knows much, perchance e'en more Than he could learn by holy lore. Still to himself he's muttering, 440 And shrinks as at some unseen thing. Last night we listened at his cell; Strange sounds we heard, and, sooth to tell, He murmured on till morn, howe'er No living mortal could be near. 445 Sometimes I thought I heard it plain, I cannot tell- I like it not Friar John hath told us it is wrote, No conscience clear and void of wrong 450 Can rest awake and pray so long. Himself still sleeps before his beads. XXVII. "Let pass," quoth Marmion; "by my fay, This man shall guide me on my way, 455 Although the great arch-fiend and he Was from Loretto brought; XXVIII. Whenas the Palmer came in hall, 460 465 470 No lord, nor knight, was there more tall, And when he struggled at a smile, His eye looked haggard wild: Poor wretch! the mother that him bare, C 485 She had not known her child. Danger, long travel, want, or woe, Soon change the form that best we know - And blanch at once the hair; Hard toil can roughen form and face, And want can quench the eye's bright grace, More deeply than despair. Happy whom none of these befall, XXIX. Lord Marmion then his boon did ask; The Palmer took on him the task, So he would march with morning tide, Where good Saint Rule his holy lay, Sung to the billows' sound; Thence to Saint Fillan's blessed well, Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel, And the crazed brain restore : Saint Mary grant, that cave or spring XXX. And now the midnight draught of sleep, 490 495 500 505 510 515 In massive bowl of silver deep, The minstrels ceased to sound. XXXI. With early dawn Lord Marmion rose: 520 525 530 Between the Baron and his host, No point of courtesy was lost; High thanks were by Lord Marmion paid, Till, filing from the gate, had passed And shook the Scottish shore; 540 545 |