Thy burghers rose to man thy wall For fosse and turret proud to stand, Renowned for hospitable deed, That virtue much with Heaven may plead, That claim may wrestle blessings down Refuge of injured royalty; Since first, when conquering York arose, Till late, with wonder, grief, and awe, Great Bourbon's relics sad she saw. Truce to these thoughts! - for, as they rise, How gladly I avert mine eyes, 1 See Note 66. Bodings, or true or false, to change That hovers 'twixt the day and night: Her wavering lamp I'd rather trim, Knights, squires, and lovely dames to see, Creation of my fantasy, Than gaze abroad on reeky fen, And make of mists invading men. Who loves not more the night of June Than dull December's gloomy noon? The moonlight than the fog of frost? And can we say which cheats the most? But who shall teach my harp to gain Famed Beauclerk called, for that he loved The minstrel and his lay approved? Decaying on Oblivion's stream; Such notes as from the Breton tongue Marie translated, Blondel sung? — 1 See Note 67. And make the dying Muse thy care; The weapon from his hand could ring, And bid, reviving in his strain, The gentle poet live again; Thou, who canst give to lightest lay An unpedantic moral gay, Nor less the dullest theme bid flit On wings of unexpected wit; In letters as in life approved, To win at once the head and heart, Such minstrel lesson to bestow - Be long thy pleasing task, but, oh! No more by thy example teach What few can practise, all can preach, With even patience to endure Lingering disease and painful cure, Enough, the lesson has been given: Come listen, then! for thou hast known And loved the Minstrel's varying tone, Who, like his Border sires of old, Waked a wild measure rude and bold, Till Windsor's oaks and Ascot plain CANTO FIFTH THE COURT I THE train has left the hills of Braid; The barrier guard have open made So Lindesay bade the palisade -- That closed the tented ground; Their men the warders backward drew, Fast ran the Scottish warriors there, Such length of shafts, such mighty bows, And little deemed their force to feel When, rattling upon Flodden vale, The cloth-yard arrows flew like hail.1 1 See Note 68. |