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And onward still the Scottish Lion bore,

By glen and streamlet winded still, And still the scatter'd Southron fled before.?

Where stunted birches hid the rill.

They might not choose the lowland road," Still, with vain fondness, could I trace,

For the Merse forayers were abroad, Anew, each kind familiar face,

Who, fired with hate and thirst of prey, That brighten'd at our evening fire!

Had scarcely fail'd to bar their way. From the thatch'd mansion’s grey-hair'd Sire, Oft on the trampling band, from crown Wise without learning, plain and good,

Of some tall cliff, the deer look'd down; And sprung of Scotland's gentler blood;

On wing of jet, from his repose Whose eye, in age, quick, clear, and keen,

In the deep heath, the black-cock rose; Show'd what in youth its glance had been;

Sprung from the gorse the timid roe, Whose doom discording neighbours sought,

Nor waited for the bending bow; Content with equity unbought ;3

And when the stony path began, To him the venerable Priest,

By which the naked peak they wan, Our frequent and familiar guest,

Up flew the snowy ptarmigan. Whose life and manners well could paint

The noon had long been pass'd before Alike the student and the saint ;4

They gain’d the height of Lammermoor ;' Alas! whose speech too oft I broke

Thence winding down the northern way, With gambol rude and timeless joke :

Before them, at the close of day,
For I was wayward, bold, and wild,

Old Gifford's towers and bamlet lay.7
A self-will'd imp, a grandame's child;
But half a plague, and half a jest,

Was still endured, beloved, caress’d.

No summons calls them to the tower,

To spend the hospitable hour. For me, thus nurtured, dost thou ask

To Scotland's camp the Lord was gone; The classic poet's well-conn'd task?

His cautious dame, in bower alone, Nay, Erskine, nay-On the wild hill

Dreaded her castle to unclose, Let the wild heath-bell flourish still;

So late, to unknown friends or foes. Cherish the tulip, prune the vine,

On through the hamlet as they paced, But freely let the woodbine twine,

Before a porch, whose front was graced And leave, udtrimm'd the eglantine:

With bush and flagon trimly placed, Nay, my friend, nay–Since oft thy praise

Lord Marmion drew his rein: Hath given fresh vigour to my lays ;

The village inn seem'd large, though rude; Since oft thy judgment could refine

Its cheerful fire and hearty food My flattend thought, or cumbrous line;

Might well relieve his train. Still kind, as is thy wont, attend,

Down from their seats the horsemen sprung, And in the minstrel spare the friend.

With jingling spurs the court-yard rung; Though wild as cloud, as stream, as gale,

They bind their lorses to the stall,
Flow forth, flow unrestrain'd, my Tale!

For forage, food, and firing call,
And various clamour fills the hall:

Weighing the labour with the cost,
Sel armion.

Toils everywhere the bustling host.


The Hostel, or Inn.

Soon, by the chimney's merry blaze,
Through the rude hostel might you gaze;
Might see, where, in dark nook aloof,
The rafters of the sooty roof

Bore wealth of winter cheer;

Tue livelong day Lord Marmion rode:
The mountain path the Palmer show'd,

I See notes on The Eve of St. John.

minister of Mertoun, in which parish Smailholm Tower 18 2 Robert Scott of Sandyknows, the grandfather of the Poet. situated.

3 Upon revising the Poem, it seems proper to mention that 5 MS.—“They might not choose the easier road, the lines,

For many a forayer was abroad."

6 Sce Notes to “ The Bride of Lammermoor." Waverley “Whose doom discording neighbours sought,

Novels, vols. xiii. and xiv. Content with equity unbought :"

7 The village of Gifford lies about four miles from Haddinghave been unconsciously borrowed from a passage in Dryden's ton: closc to it is Yester House, the seat of the Marquis of beautiful epistle to John Driden of Chesterton.–1808. Note Tweeddale, and a little farther up the stream, which descends to Second Edit.

from the hills of Lammermoor, are the remains of the old 1 MS.—“The student, gentleman, and saint."

castle of the family. The reverend gentleman alluded to was Mr. John Martin. 8 See Appendix, Note 2 N.

How pale his cheek, his eye how brigk:,
Whene'er the firebrand's fickle light

Glances beneath his cowl !
Full on our Lord he sets his eye;
For his best palfrey, would not I

Endure that sullen scowl.”

Of sea-fowl dried, and solands store,
And gammons of the tusky boar,

And savoury haunch of deer.
The chimney arch projected wide;
Above, around it, and beside,

Were tools for housewives' hand; Nor wanted, in that martial day, The implements of Scottish fray,

The buckler, lance, and brand. Beneath its shade, the place of state, On oaken settle Marmion sate, And view'd around the blazing hearth, His followers mix in noisy mirth; Whom with brown ale, in jolly tide, From ancient vessels ranged aside, Full actively their host supplied.

VII. But Marmion, as to chase the awe Which thus had quell’d their hearts, who


The ever-varying fire-light show
That figure stern and face of woe,

Now call’d upon a squire : “ Fitz-Eustace, know'st thou not some lay, To speed the lingering night away?

We slumber by the fire.”

IV. Theirs was the glee of martial breast, And laughter theirs at little jest; And oft Lord Marmion deign'd to aid, And mingle in the mirth they made; For though, with men of high degree, The proudest of the proud was he, Yet, train’d in camps, he knew the art To win the soldier's hardy heart. They love a captain to obey, Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May; With open hand, and brow as free, Lover of wine and minstrelsy; Ever the first to scale a tower, As venturous in a lady's bower :Such buxom chief shall lead his host From India's fires to Zembla's frost.

VIII. “ So please you,” thus the youth rejoin'd, « Our choicest minstrel's left behind. Ill may we hope to please your ear, Accustom'd Constant's strains to hear. The harp full deftly can he strike, And wake the lover's lute alike; To dear Saint Valentine, no thrush Sings livelier from a spring-tide bush, No nightingale her love-lorn tune More sweetly warbles to the moon. Woe to the cause, whate'er it be, Detains from us his melody, Lavish'd on rocks, and billows stern, Or duller monks of Lindisfarne. Now must I venture, as I may, To sing his favourite roundelay.”

V. Resting upon his pilgrim staff,

Right opposite the Palmer stood; His thin dark visage seen but half,

Half hidden by his hood. Still fix'd on Marmion was his look, Which he, who ill such gaze could brook,

Strove hy a frown to quell; But not for that, though more than once Full met their stern encountering glance,

The Palmer's visage fell.

IX. A mellow voice Fitz-Eustace had, The air he chose was wild and sad; Such have I heard, in Scottish land, Rise from the busy harvest band, When falls before the mountaineer, On Lowland plains, the ripen'd ear. Now one shrill voice the notes prolong, Now a wild chorus swells the song: Oft have I listen'd, and stood still, As it came soften'd up the hill, And deem'd it the lament of men Who languish’d for their native glen; And thought how sad would be such sound On Susquehana's swampy ground, Kentucky's wood-encumber'd brake, Or wild Ontario's boundless lake, Where heart-sick exiles, in the strain, Recall'd fair Scotland's hills again!

By fits less frequent from the crowd
Was heard the burst of laughter loud;
For still, as squire and archer stared
On that dark face and matted beard,

Their glee and game declined.
All gazed at length in silence drear,
Unbroko, save when in comrade's ear
Some yeoman, wondering in his fear,

Thus whisper'd forth his mind: “ Saint Mary! saw'st thou e'er such sight?


Song. Where shali the lover rest,

Whom the fates sever

MS.-“ Full met their cyes' encountering glance."

And rested with his head a space,

Reclining on his hand. His thoughts I scan not; but I ween, That, could their import have been seen, The meanest groom in all the hall, That e'er tied courser to a stall, Would scarce have wish'd to be their proy, For Lutterward and Fontenaye.

XIII. High minds, of native pride and force, Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse! Fear, for their scourge, mean villains have, Thou art the torturer of the brave! Yet fatal strength they boast to steel Their minds to bear the wounds they feel, Even while they writhe beneath the smart Of civil conflict in the heart. For soon Lord Marmion raised his head, And, smiling, to Fitz-Eustace said, “ Is it not strange, that, as ye sung, Seem'd in mine ear a death-peal rung, Such as in nunderies they toll For some departing sister's soul ?

Say, what may this portend ?”— Then first the Palmer silence broke, (The livelong day he had not spoke,)

“ The death of a dear friend.”

Marmion, whose steady heart and eye
Ne'er changed in worst extremity;
Marmion, whose soul could scantly brook,
Even from his King, a haughty look ;3
Whose accent of command controllid,
In camps, the boldest of the bold
Thought, look, and utteranco fail'd him now,
Fall’n was his glance, and flush'd his brow.

For either in the tone,
Or something in the Palmer's look,
So full upon his conscience strook,

That answer he found none.
Thus oft it haps, that when within
They shrink at sense of secret sin,

A feather daunts the brave;
A fool's wild speech confounds the wise,
And proudest princes vail their eyes

Before their meanest slave.

XV. Well might he falter !—By his aid Was Constance Beverley betray'). Not that he augur’d of the doom, Which on the living closed the tomb: But, tired to hear the desperate maids Threaten by turns, beseech, upbraid;

Even from his King, a scornful look.' a Ms.-" But tired to hear the furious maid

From his truo maiden's breast,

Parted for ever?
Where, through groves deep and high,

Sounds the far billow,
Where early violets die,

Under the willow.

Eleu loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow.

There, through the summer day,

Cool streams are laving; There, while the tempests sway,

Scarce are boughs waving; There, thy rest shalt thou take,

Parted for ever, Never again to wake,

Never, O never!

Eleu loro, &c. Never, O never!

Where shall the traitor rest,

He, the deceiver,
Who could win maiden's breast,

Ruin, and leave her?
In the lost battle,

Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle

With groans of the dying.

Eleu loro, &c. There shall he be lying.

Her wing shall the eagle flap

O'er the false-hearted;
His warnı blood the wolf shall lap,

Ere life be parted.
Shame and dishonour sit

By his grave ever; Blessing shall hallow it,

Never, O never!

Eleu loro, &c. Never, O never !

It ceased, the melancholy sound;
And silence sunk on all around.
The air was sad; but sadder still

It fell on Marmion's ear,
And plain'd as if disgrace and ill,

And shameful death, were near.
He drew his mantle past his face,

Between it and the band,

1 Seo Appendix, Note 2 0.
3 MS.—" Marmion, whose pride

Whoso haughty soul}could never brook.

And wroth, because in wild despair,

| And, pent within the narrow cell, She practised on the life of Clare;

How will her spirit chafe and swell! Its fugitive the Church he gave,

How brook the stern monastic laws! Though not a victim, but a slave;

The penance how—and I the cause ! And deem'd restraint in convent strange

Vigil and scourge-perchance even worse!" Would hide her wrongs, and her revenge.

And twice be rose to cry, “ To horse!”. Himself, proud Henry's favourite peer,

And twice his Sovereign's mandate came, Held Ronish thunders idle fear,

Like damp upon a kindling flame; Secure his pardon he might hold,

And twice he thought, “ Gave I not charge For some slight mulct of penance-gold.

She should be safe, though not at large? Thus judging, he gave secret way,

They durst not, for their island, shred
When the stern priests surprised their prey.

One golden ringlet from her head.”
His train but deem'd the favourite page
Was left behind, to spare his age;

Or other if they deem'd, none darod

While thus in Marmion's bosom strove To mutter what he thought and heard :

Repentance and reviving love, Woe to the vassal, who durst pry

Like whirlwinds, whose contending sway Into Lord Marmion's privacy!

I've seen Loch Vennachar obey,

Their Host the Palmer's speech had XVI.

heard, His conscience slept—he deem'd her well,

And, talkative, took up the word: And safe secured in distant cell;

“ Ay, reverend Pilgrim, you, who stray But, waken’d by her favourite lay,

From Scotland's simple land away, And that strange Palmer's boding say,

To visit realms afar, That fell so ominous and drear,

Full often learn the art to know Full on the object of his fear,

Of future weal, or future woe, To aid remorse's venom'd throes,

By word, or sign, or star; Dark tales of convent-vengeance rose ;

Yet might a knight his fortune hear, And Constance, late betray'd and scorn’d,

If, knight-like, he despises fear, All lovely on his soul return’d;

Not far from hence;—if fathers old Lovely as when, at treacherous call,

Aright our hamlet legend told.”She left her convent's peaceful wall,

These broken words the menials move, Crimson'd with shame, with terror mute,

(For marvels still the vulgar love,) Dreading alike escape, pursuit,

And, Marmion giving license cold, Till love, victorious o'er alarms,

His tale the host thus gladly told :-
Hid fears and blushes in his arms.


The Hast's Tale. Alas!” he thought,“ how changed that mien ! “ A Clerk could tell what years have flown How changed these timid looks have been,"

Since Alexander fillid our throne, Since years of guilt, and of disguise,

(Third monarch of that warlike name,) Have steeld her brow, and arm’d her eyes !

And eke the time when here he came No more of virgin terror speaks

To seek Sir Hugo, then our lord : The blood that mantles in her cheeks ;

A braver never drew a sword; Fierce, and unfeminine, are there,

A wiser never, at the hour Frenzy for joy, for grief despair ;

Of midnight, spoke the word of

power: And I the cause—for whom were given

The same, whom ancient records call Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven!

The founder of the Goblin-Hall.4 Would,” thought he, as the picture grows,

I would, Sir Knight, your longer stay “ I on its stalk had left the rose !

Gave you that cavern to survey. Oh, why should man's success remove

Of lofty roof, and ample size, The very charms that wake his love !

Beneath the castle deep it lies: Her convent's peaceful solitude

To hew the living rock profound, Is now a prison harsh and rude ;

The floor to pave, the arch to round,

1 MS.—“ Incensed, because in wild despair."
9 The MS reads

“ Since fiercer passions wild and high,
Have fush'd her cheek with deeper dye,
And years of guilt, and of disguise,
Have steel'd her brow, and arm'd her eyes,

And I the cause—for whom were given
Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven !--
How will her ardent spirit swell,

And chafe within the narrow cell!"
3 MS.—“ From this plain simple land away."
- See Appendix, Note 2 P.

* I know the cause, although untold, Why the King seeks his vassal's hold : Vainly from me my liege would know His kingdom's future weal or woe; But yet, if strong his arm and heart, His courage may do more than art.

“ Of middle air the demons proud,
Who ride upon the racking cloud,
Can read, in fix'd or wandering star,
The issue of events afar;
But still their sullen aid withhold,
Save when by mightier force controllid.
Such late I summond to my hall;
And though so potent was the call,
That scarce the deepest nook of hell
I deem'd a refuge from the spell,
Yet, obstinate in silence still,
The haughty demon mocks my skill.
But thou—who little know'st thy might,
As born upon that blessed night 6
When yawning graves, and dying groan,
Proclaim'd hell's empire overthrown,-
With untaught valour shalt compel
Response denied to magic spell.”—7
Gramercy,' quoth our Monarch free,

Place him but front to front with me,
And, by this good and honour'd brand,
The gift of Ceur-de-Lion's hand,
Soothly I swear, that, tide what tide,
The demon shall a buffet bide.'__8
His bearing bold the wizard view'd,
And thus, well pleased, his speech renew'd :-
• There spoke the blood of Malcolm !--mark :
Forth pacing hence, at midnight dark,
The rampart seek, whose circling crown
Crests the ascent of yonder down:
A southern entrance shalt thou find;
There halt, and there thy buglo wind,
And trust thine elfin foe to see,
In guise of thy worst enemy:
Couch then thy lance, and spur thy steed-
Upon him! and Saint George to speed !
If he go down, thou soon shalt know
Whate'er those airy sprites can show;
If thy heart fail thee in the strife,
I am no warrant for thy life.'


XXIII. “ Soon as the midnight bell did ring, Alone, and arm’d, forth rode the King

There never toil'd a mortal arm,
It all was wrought by word and charm;
And I have heard my grandsire say,
That the wild clamour and affray
Of those dread artisans of hell,
Who labour'd under Hugo's spell,
Sounded as loud as ocean's war,
Among the caverns of Dunbar.

“ The King Lord Gifford's castle sought,
Deep labouring with uncertain thought;
Even then he muster'd all his host,
To meet upon the western coast :
For Norge and Danish galleys plied
Their oars within the frith of Clyde.
There floated Haco's banner trim,
Above Norweyan warriors grim,
Savage of heart, and large of limb;
Threatening both continent and isle,
Bute, Arran, Cunninghame, and Kyle.
Lord Gifford, deep beneath the ground,
Heard Alexander's bugle sound,
And tarried not his garb to change,
But, in his wizard habit strange,
Came forth,—a quaint and fearful sight;
His mantle lined with fox-skins white;
His high and wrinkled forehead bore
A pointed cap, such as of yore
Clerks say that Pharaoh's Magi wore:
His shoes were mark'd with cross and spell,
Upon his breast a pentacle ;4
His zone, of virgin parchment thin,
Or, as some tell, of dead man's skin,
Bore many a planetary sign,
Combust, ard retrograde, and trinc ;5
And in his hand he held prepared,
A naked sword without a guard.

“ Dire dealings with the fiendish race
Had mark'd strange lines upon his face;
Vigil and fast bad worn him grim,
His eyesight dazzled seem’d and dim,
As one unused to upper day;
Even his own menials with dismay
Beheld, Sir Knight, the grisly Sire,
In his unwonted wild attire;
Unwonted, for traditions run,
He seldom thus beheld the sun.-
"I know,' he said-his voice was hoarse,
And broken seem'd its hollow forco,

See Appendix, Note 2 Q.
2 MS.-" There floated Haco's banner grim

O'er fierce of heart and large of limb." 3 Sco Appendix, Note 2 R. 4 Ibid. Note 2 S. 6 MS.—" Bare many a character and sign,

0. planets retrograde and trine."

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