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A tomb, with Gothic sculpture fair,
(Now vainly for its site you look ;
'Twas levelled, when fanatic Brook
The fair cathedral stormed and took ;
But, thanks to Heaven, and good Saint Chad,
His feet upon a couchant hound,
His hands to heaven upraised; And all around, on scutcheon rich, And tablet carved, and fretted niche,
His arms and feats were blazed. And yet, though all was carved so fair, And priests for Marmion breathed the prayer, The last Lord Marmion lay not there.
From Ettrick woods, a peasant swain
Followed his Lord to Flodden plain,
One of those flowers, whom plaintive lay
In Scotland mourns as
Sore wounded, Sybil's Cross he spied,
Close by the noble Marmion's side.
The spoilers stripped and gashed the slain,
Less easy task it were, to shew
Lord Marmion's nameless grave, and low.
But every mark is gone ;
And broke her font of stone:
But yet from out the little hill
Oft halts the stranger there,
For thence may best his curious eye
The memorable field descry;
And shepherd boys repair
And rest them by the hazel bush,
And plait their garlands fair;
That holds the bones of Marmion brave.
When thou shalt find the little hill,
With thy heart commune, and be still.
If ever, in temptation strong,
devious step, thus trode,
“ He died a gallant knight,
I do not rhyme to that dull elf,
That all through Flodden's dismal night,
'Twas Wilton mounted him again;
'Twas Wilton's brand that deepest hewed,
Amid the spearmen's stubborn wood:
Nor sing I to that simple maid,
Who cannot, unless I relate,
Paint to her mind the bridal's state;
That Wolsey's voice the blessing spoke, More, Sands, and Denny, passed the joke :
That bluff King Hal the curtain drew,
And afterwards, for many a day,
That it was held enough to say,
In blessing to a wedded pair,
TO THE READER.
Why then a final note prolong,
* Used generally for tale, or discourse