The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . d cannon mouth ;Not in the close successive rattleThat breathes the voice of modern battle. But slow and far hillock gained. Lord Marmion stayed : Here, by this cross, he gently said, You well may view the shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare:Oh ! think of Marmion in thy prayer! —Thou wilt not ? — well, no less my careShall, watchful, for thy weal prepare. —You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard. With ten picked archers of my train ;With England if the day go hard. To Berwick speed amain.
The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . d cannon mouth ;Not in the close successive rattleThat breathes the voice of modern battle. But slow and far hillock gained. Lord Marmion stayed : Here, by this cross, he gently said, You well may view the shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare:Oh ! think of Marmion in thy prayer! —Thou wilt not ? — well, no less my careShall, watchful, for thy weal prepare. —You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard. With ten picked archers of my train ;With England if the day go hard. To Berwick speed amain. —But if we conquer, cruel spoils shall at your feet be laid. When here we meet waited not for answer would not mark the maids despair, Nor heed the discontent-ed lookFrom either squire, but spurred , dashing through thebattle-plain,^ , His way to Surrey took. good Lord Marmion,by my life !Welcome to dangershour!—Short greeting serves intime of strife. —Thus have I ranged mypower:Myself will rule this cen-tral host. MARMION. 141. Stout Stanley fronts their right,My sons command the vaward post, With Brian Tunstall, stainless knight; Lord Dacre, with his horsemen light, Shall be in rearward of the fight,And succor those that need it most. Now, gallant Marmion, well I know, Would gladly to the vanguard go;Edmund, the Admiral, Tunstall thee their charge will blithely shareThere fight thine own retainers tooBeneath De Burg, thy steward true. Thanks, noble Surrey ! Marmion said,Nor further greeting there he paid,But, parting like a thunderbolt,First in the vanguard made a halt, Where such a shout there roseOf Marmion ! Marmion ! that the cry,Up Flodden mountain shrilling high, Startled the Scottish fo€s. Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested stillWith Lady Clare upon the hill,On which —for far the day was spent —The western sunbeams now were bent;The cry they heard, its meaning knew,Could plain their distant comrades
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrolfewjw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1888
