Marmion . V. 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! 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 drawbrido-e fall. V. Along the bridge Lord Marmion rode,Proudly his red-roan charger helm hung at the saddle bow ;Well by his visage you
Marmion . V. 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! 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 drawbrido-e fall. V. Along the bridge Lord Marmion rode,Proudly his red-roan charger helm hung at the saddle bow ;Well by his visage you might knowHe was a stalworth knight and keen,And had in many a battle been ;The scar on his brown cheek revealedA token true of Bos worth field;His eyebrow dark and eye of fireShowed spirit proud and prompt to ire,Yet lines of thought upon his cheekDid deep design and counsel forehead, by his casque worn thick moustache and curly hair,Coal-black, and grizzled here and there. 36 But more through toil than age ;His square-turned joints, and strength of limb,Showed liim no carpet knight so in close light a champion grim, In camps a leader sage. Well was he armed from head to heel, In mail and plate of Milan steel ; But his strong helm, of mighty cost, Was all Avith burnished gold embossed. Amid the jilumage of the crest, A falcon hovered on her nest. With wings outs]iread, and forward breast; Een such a falcon, on his shield, Soared sable in an azure field : The golden legend bore aright, Who chfcks at one, to death is diqht. CANTO I. THE CASTLE. 37 Blue was the chargers broidered rehi;Blue ribbons decked his arching mane;The knightly housings ample foldWas velvet blue, and trapped with gold. Behind him rode two gallant squires,Of noble name and knightly sires;They burned i\\e gilded spurs to claim,For well could each a war-horse tame,Could draw tlie bow, the sword could swayAnd lightly bear the ring away ;Nor less witli courteous precepts st
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookidmarmion00sco, bookyear1885
