I cannot tell-I like it not— Friar John hath told us it is wrote, Have marked ten aves, and two creeds." XXVIII. "-Let pass," quoth Marmion; "by my fay, In his black mantle was he clad, G The scallop shell his cap did deck; The crucifix around his neck Was from Loretto brought; His sandals were with travel tore, XXIX. Whenas the Palmer came in hall, Nor lord, nor knight, was there more tall, Or had a statelier step withal, Or looked more high and keen; For no saluting did he wait, But strode across the hall of state, And fronted Marmion where he sate, As he his peer had been. But his gaunt frame was worn with toil; His cheek was sunk, alas the while! And when he struggled at a smile, Poor wretch! the mother that him bare, Danger, long travel, want, or woe, And blaunch at once the hair ; Hard toil can roughen form and face, And want can quench the eye's bright grace, Nor does old age a wrinkle trace, More deeply than despair. Happy whom none of these befall, But this poor Palmer knew them all. XXX. Lord Marmion then his boon did ask; The Palmer took on him the task, So he would march with morning tide, To fair Saint Andrew's bound, Within the ocean-cave to pray, Thence to Saint Fillan's blessed well, Or bid it throb no more!" XXXI. And now the midnight draught of sleep, Where wine and spices richly steep, In massive bowl of silver deep, Alone the Palmer passed it bye, Though Selby pressed him courteously. XXXII. With early dawn Lord Marmion rose : And first the chapel doors unclose ; |