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Such dusky grandeur clothed the height,
Where the huge castle holds its state,
And all the steep slope down,

Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky,
Piled deep and massy, close and high,
Mine own romantic town!
But northward far, with purer blaze,
On Ochil mountains fell the rays,
And as each heathy top they kissed,
It gleamed a purple amethyst.
Yonder the shores of Fife you saw;
Here Preston-Bay and Berwick-Law:

And, broad between them rolled,
The gallant Firth the eye might note,
Whose islands on its bosom float,

Like emeralds chased in gold.
Fitz-Eustace' heart felt closely pent;
As if to give his rapture vent,

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The spur he to his charger lent,

And raised his bridle hand,

And, making demi-volt in air,

Cried, "Where's the coward that would not dare

To fight for such a land?”

The Lindesay smiled his joy to see;

Nor Marmion's frown repressed his glee.

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XXXI.

Thus, while they looked, a flourish proud,
Where mingled trump and clarion loud,

And fife and kettle-drum,

And sackbut deep and psaltery,

And war-pipe with discordant cry,

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And cymbal clattering to the sky,
Making wild music bold and high,

Did up the mountain come;

The whilst the bells, with distant chime,

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Merrily tolled the hour of prime,

And thus the Lindesay spoke :

"Thus clamor still the war-notes when
The king to mass his way has ta’en,
Or to Saint Katharine's of Sienne,
Or Chapel of Saint Rocque.
To you they speak of martial fame,
But me remind of peaceful game,

When blither was their cheer,
Thrilling in Falkland-woods the air,
In signal none his steed should spare,
But strive which foremost might repair
To the downfall of the deer.

XXXII.

"Nor less," he said, "when looking forth,

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I view yon Empress of the North

Sit on her hilly throne,

Her palace's imperial bowers,
Her castle, proof to hostile powers,

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Her stately halls and holy towers

Nor less," he said, "I moan

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To think what woe mischance may bring,

And how these merry bells may ring

The death-dirge of our gallant king;

Or with their larum call

The burghers forth to watch and ward,
'Gainst Southern sack and fires to guard
Dun-Edin's leaguered wall. -

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But not for my presaging thought,

Dream conquest sure, or cheaply bought!

Lord Marmion, I say nay:

God is the guider of the field,

He breaks the champion's spear and shield,-
But thou thyself shalt say,

When joins yon host in deadly stowre,

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That England's dames must weep in bower,
Her monks the death-mass sing;

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For never saw'st thou such a power

Led on by such a king.".
And now, down winding to the plain,
The barriers of the camp they gain,

And there they made a stay.-
There stays the minstrel, till he fling
His hand o'er every Border string,
And fit his harp the pomp to sing

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Of Scotland's ancient court and king,
In the succeeding lay.

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CANTO FIFTH.

THE COURT.

I.

THE train has left the hills of Braid;
The barrier guard have open made
(So Lindesay bade) the palisade

That closed the tented ground;

Their men the warders backward drew,
And carried pikes as they rode through
Into its ample bound.

Fast ran the Scottish warriors there,
Upon the Southern band to stare,
And envy with their wonder rose,

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To see such well-appointed foes;

Such length of shafts, such mighty bows,
So huge, that many simply thought,

But for a vaunt such weapons wrought;

And little deemed their force to feel

Through links of mail and plates of steel,
When rattling upon Flodden vale,
The cloth-yard arrows flew like hail.

II.

Nor less did Marmion's skilful view
Glance every line and squadron through;
And much he marvelled one small land
Could marshal forth such various band:
For men-at-arms were here,

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Heavily sheathed in mail and plate,

Like iron towers for strength and weight,
On Flemish steeds of bone and height,
With battle-axe and spear.

Young knights and squires, a lighter train,
Practised their chargers on the plain,
By aid of leg, of hand and rein,

Each warlike feat to show,

To pass, to wheel, the croupe to gain,
And high curvet, that not in vain
The sword-sway might descend amain
On foeman's casque below.
He saw the hardy burghers there
March armed, on foot, with faces bare,

For visor they wore none,

Nor waving plume, nor crest of knight;
But burnished were their corslets bright,
Their brigantines and gorgets light

Like very silver shone.

Long pikes they had for standing fight,
Two-handed swords they wore,

And many wielded mace of weight,
And bucklers bright they bore.

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III.

On foot the yeoman too, but dressed
In his steel-jack, a swarthy vest,

With iron quilted well;

Each at his back (a slender store)
His forty days' provision bore,

As feudal statutes tell.

His arms were halbert, axe, or spear,

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