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For, like mad Tom's, * our chiefest care,
Was horse to ride, and weapon wear.
Such nights we've had ; and, though the game
Of manhood be more sober tame,
And though the field-day, or the drill,
Seem less important now-yet still
Such may we hope to share again.
The sprightly thought inspires my strain;
And mark, how like a horseman true,
Lord Marmion's march I thus renew.

• See King Lear.

MARMION.

CANTO FOURTH.

The Camp.

MARMION.

CANTO FOURTH.

The Camp.

I.

Eustace, I said, did blithely mark
The first notes of the merry lark.
The lark sung shrill, the cock he crew,
And loudly Marmion's bugles blew,
And, with their light and lively call,
Brought groom and yeoman to the stall.
Whistling they came, and free of heart;

But soon their mood was changed: .
Complaint was heard on every part,

Of something disarranged.

Some clamoured loud for armour lost; Some brawled and wrangled with the host; “ By Becket's bones,” cried one, “ I fear, . That some false Scot has stolen my spear !"Young Blount, Lord Marmion's second squire, Found his steed wet with sweat and mire ; Although the rated horse-boy sware, Last night he dressed him sleek and fair. While chafed the impatient squire like thunder, Old Hubert shouts, in fear and wonder,— “ Help, gentle Blount! help, comrades all! Bevis lies dying in his stall : To Marmion who the plight dare tell, Of the good steed he loves so well?”– Gaping for fear and ruth, they saw . The charger panting on his straw; Till one, who would seem wisest, cried, « What else but evil could betide, With that cursed Palmer for our guide ?

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