Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, The stubborn spearmen still made good 10 Each stepping where his comrade stood, 15 No thought was there of dastard flight; Linked in the serried phalanx tight, Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, Till utter darkness closed her wing 20 O'er their thin host and wounded King. Led back from strife his shattered bands; As mountain-waves, from wasted lands, 25 Then did their loss his foemen know; Their King, their lords, their mightiest, low, They melted from the field as snow, When streams are swoll'n and south winds blow, 30 Dissolves in silent dew. Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, While many a broken band, Disordered, through her currents dash, To gain the Scottish land; 35 To town and tower, to down and dale, Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear, DAY dawns upon the mountain's side:- Look northward with upbraiding eye; XXXV 5 That, journeying far on foreign strand, 10 The Royal Pilgrim to his land May yet return again. He saw the wreck his rashness wrought; And fell on Flodden plain: 15 And well in death his trusty brand, Firm clenched within his manly hand, Beseemed the monarch slain. But, oh! how changed since yon blithe night!— Gladly I turn me from the sight 20 xxxvi Unto my tale again. SHORT is my tale :-Fitz-Eustace' care A pierced and mangled body bare 5 But, thanks to heaven, and good Saint Chad, 10 His-arms and feats were blazed. And yet, though all was carved so fair, And priests for Marmion breathed the prayer, The spoilers stripped and gashed the slain, LESS easy task it were, to shew Lord Marmion's nameless grave, and low. They dug his grave e'en where he lay, But every mark is gone; Time's wasting hand has done away And broke her font of stone: But yet from out the little hill xxxvii 5 With thy heart commune, and be still. 20 Thou left'st the right path for the wrong, That, when brave Surrey's steed was slain, 'Twas Wilton's brand that deepest hewed. That, after fight, his faith made plain, Paint to her mind the bridal's state; That Wolsey's voice the blessing spoke, 20 More, Sands, and Denny passed the joke: "Love they like Wilton and like Clare!" 25 L'ENVOY. ΤΟ THE READER. Why then a final note prolong, Sound head, clean hand, and piercing wit, A garland for the hero's crest, And twined by her he loves the best; To every lovely lady bright, What can I wish but faithful knight ? What can I wish but lady true? And knowledge to the studious sage, And pillow soft to head of age? To thee, dear schoolboy, whom my lay And pleasing dreams and slumbers light. END OF MARMION. |