The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . ms from rust. May breathe your war-horse well ;Seldom hath passed a week but joust Or feat of arms Scots can rein a mettled steed. And love to couch a spear ; —Saint George ! a stirring life they lead That have such neighbors near!Then stay with us a little space,Our Northern wars to learn ;I pray you for your ladys grace !Lord Marmions brow grew stern. XV. The captain marked his altered look. And gave the squire the sign;A mighty wassail-bowl he took, •And crowned it high with wine. Now pledge
The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . ms from rust. May breathe your war-horse well ;Seldom hath passed a week but joust Or feat of arms Scots can rein a mettled steed. And love to couch a spear ; —Saint George ! a stirring life they lead That have such neighbors near!Then stay with us a little space,Our Northern wars to learn ;I pray you for your ladys grace !Lord Marmions brow grew stern. XV. The captain marked his altered look. And gave the squire the sign;A mighty wassail-bowl he took, •And crowned it high with wine. Now pledge me here. Lord Marmion ; But first I pray thee hast thou left that page of thineThat used to serve thy cup of wine, Whose beauty was so rare ?When last in Raby-towers we met. The boy I closely often marked his cheeks were wet With tears he fain would was no rugged horse-boys hand,To burnish shield or sharpen brand, Or saddle meeter seemed for lady fan her cheek, or curl her through cmbroiderv, rich and rare. MARMION. 69. The slender silk to lead :His skin was fair, his ringlets gold, His bosom — when he russet doublets rugged fold Could scarce repel its pride !Say, hast thou given that lovely youth To serve in ladys bower ? Or was the gentle page, in sooth,A gentle paramour ? XVI. Lord Marmion ill could brook such jest: He rolled his kindling pain his rising wratlisuppressed, 70 SCOTTS POETICAL WORKS. Yet made a calm reply :That boy thou thou<;ht so goodly misjht not hro(tk the Northern of his fate if thou wouldst learn,I left him sick in ;ih of him. — Hut, Heron, say,Wiiy does thy lovely lady gayDisdain to grace the hall to-day ?Or has that dame, so fair and sage,Gone on some pious pilgrimage ? —He spoke in covert scorn, for fameWhispered light tales of Herons dame. I have not ridden in Scotland sinceJames backed the cause of that mock princeWarbec
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrolfewjw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1888
