. Poetical works; with memoir of the author . der gathering-song. A distant trampling sound he hears ;He looks abroad, and soon appears,Oer Horncliff-hill, a plump* of spears, Beneath a pennon gay ;A horseman darting from the crowd,Like lightning from a summer cloud,Spurs on his mettled courser proud, Before the dark the sable palisade,That closed the castle barricade, His bugle-horn he blew ;The warder hasted from the wall,And warned the Captain in the hall, For well the blast he knew;And joyfully that Knight did call,To sewer, squire, and seneschal. Now broach ye a pipe of Malv
. Poetical works; with memoir of the author . der gathering-song. A distant trampling sound he hears ;He looks abroad, and soon appears,Oer Horncliff-hill, a plump* of spears, Beneath a pennon gay ;A horseman darting from the crowd,Like lightning from a summer cloud,Spurs on his mettled courser proud, Before the dark the sable palisade,That closed the castle barricade, His bugle-horn he blew ;The warder hasted from the wall,And warned the Captain in the hall, For well the blast he knew;And joyfully that Knight did call,To sewer, squire, and seneschal. Now broach ye a pipe of Malvoisie, Bring pasties of the doe,And quickly make the entrance free,And bid my heralds ready be,And every minstrel sound his glee, And all our trumpets blow;And, from the platform, spare ye notTo fire a noble salvo-shot: Lord Marmion waits below.— * This word properly applies to a flight of water-fowl; but is applied,by analogy, to a body of horse. There is a Knight of the North Country, Which leads a lusty plump of spears.—Flodden Field,. Canto /.] 3IAKMI0N. 81 Then to the Castles lower ward Sped forty yeomen tall,The iron-studded gates unbarred,Raised the portcullis ponderous guard,The lofty palisade unsparred, And let the draw-bridge fall. Along the bridge Lord Marmion rode, Proudly his red-roan charger trod. His helm hung at the saddle-bow; Well, by his visage, you might know He was a stalworth knight, and keen, ■ And had in many a battle been ; The scar on his brown cheek revealed A token true of Bosworth field ; His eye-brow dark, and eye of fire, Showed spirit proud, and prompt to ire ; Yet lines of thought upon his cheek, Did deep design and counsel forehead, by his casque worn bare,His thick moustache, and curly hair,Coal-black, and grizzled here and there, But more through toil than age;His square-turned joints, and strength of limb,Showed him no carpet-knight so trim,But, in close fight, a champion grim,In camps, a leader sage. Well armed was he from h
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1868
