Their marshall'd lines stretch'd east and west,

And fronted north and south,

And distant salutation past

From the loud cannon mouth ;

Not in the close successive rattle,

That breathes the voice of modern battle,
But slow and far between.—

The hillock gain'd, Lord Marmion staid :
"Here, by this Cross," he gently said,
"You well may view the scene.
Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare:
O! think of Marmion in thy prayer !-
Thou wilt not?-well,-no less my care
Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare.—
You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard,

With ten pick'd archers of my train ;

With England if the day go hard,
To Berwick speed amain.

But, if we conquer, cruel maid!

My spoils shall at your feet be laid,

When here we meet again.”

He waited not for answer there,

And would not mark the maid's despair,

Nor heed the discontented look

From either squire; but spurr'd amain,
And, dashing through the battle-plain,

His way to Surrey took. `

XXIV.

-The good Lord Marmion,

by my

life!

Welcome to danger's hour!—

Short greeting serves in time of strife :—

Thus have I ranged my power:

Myself will rule this central host,

Stout Stanley fronts their right,

My sons command the vaward post,
With Brian Tunstall, stainless knight;
Lord Dacre, with his horsemen light,
Shall be in rear-ward of the fight,
And succour those that need it most.
Now, gallant Marmion, well I know,
Would gladly to the vanguard go;

Edmund, the Admiral, Tunstall there,

With thee their charge will blithely share;
There fight thine own retainers too.
Beneath De Burg, thy steward true.”-
"Thanks, noble Surrey!" Marmion said,
Nor further greeting there he paid ;
But, parting like a thunder-bolt,

First in the vanguard made a halt,
Where such a shout there rose
Of" Marmion! Marmion !" that the cry
Up Flodden mountain shrilling high,

Startled the Scottish foes.

XXV.

Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still
With Lady Clare upon the hill;

On which, (for far the day was spent,)
The western sun-beams now were bent.
The cry they heard, its meaning knew,
Could plain their distant comrades view;

Sadly to Blount did Eustace say,
"Unworthy office here to stay!

No hope of gilded spurs to-day.
But, see! look up-on Flodden bent
The Scottish foe has fired his tent.".

And sudden, as he spoke,

From the sharp ridges of the hill,
All downward to the banks of Till,
Was wreath'd in sable smoke;
Volumed and vast, and rolling far,
The cloud enveloped Scotland's war,

As down the hill they broke ;

Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone,

Announced their march; their tread alone,

At times one warning trumpet blown,

At times a stifled hum,

Told England, from his mountain-throne King James did rushing come.—

Scarce could they hear, or see their foes,

Until at weapon-point they close.

They close, in clouds of smoke and dust,

With sword-sway, and with lances thrust ; And such a yell was there,

Of sudden and portentous birth,

As if men fought upon the earth,
And fiends in upper air;

O life and death were in the shout,

Recoil and rally, charge and rout,
And triumph and despair.

Long look'd the anxious squires; their eye
Could in the darkness nought descry.

XXVI.

At length the freshening western blast
Aside the shroud of battle cast;

And, first, the ridge of mingled spears
Above the brightening cloud appears;
And in the smoke the pennons flew,
As in the storm the white sea-mew.