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And poured its silver light, and pure,
Upon Tantallon tower and hall;
The sober glances fall. Much was there need; though, seamed with scars, Two veterans of the Douglas' wars,
Though two grey priests were there,
The chapel's carving fair.
A Bishop by the altar stood,
A noble lord of Douglas blood,
Yet shewed his meek and thoughtful eye
Than that beneath his rule he held
Rising at judgment-day,
In all his old array ;
Then at the altar Wilton kneels,
And judge how Clara changed her hue,
While fastening to her lover's side
A friend, which, though in danger tried,
He once had found untrue ! Then Douglas struck him with his blade: “ Saint Michael and Saint Andrew aid,
I dub thee knight.
See that thou fight.”— ..
Disgrace, and trouble ;
May give thee double."-
That Douglas is my brother !"
“ Nay, nay,” old Angus said, “ not so; To Surrey's camp thou now must go,
Thy wrongs no longer smother. I have two sons in yonder field; And, if thou meet'st them under shield, Upon them bravely-do thy worst; And foul fall him that blenches first!"
To Surrey's camp to ride ;
And Douglas gave a guide :
“ Though something I might plain," he said,
“Of cold respect to stranger guest,
Sent hither by your king's behest, While in Tantallon's towers I staid ;. Part we in friendship from your land,
And, noble Earl, receive my hand.”— But Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: – “ My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still Be open, at my sovereign's will, To each one whom he lists, howe'er Uomeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation-stoneThe hand of Douglas is his own; And never shall in friendly grasp The hand of such as Marmion clasp.”—