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The longer miss'd, bewail'd the more ;
And thou, and I, and dear-loved Rae,
And one whose name may not say,--
For not Mimosa's tender tree
Shrinks sooner from the touch than he,
In merry chorus well combined,
With laughter drown’d the whistling wind.
Mirth was within ; and care without
Might gnaw her nails to hear our shout.
Not but amid the buxom scene
Some grave discourse might intervene-
Of the good horse that bore him best,
His shoulder, hoof, and arching crest :
For, like mad Tom's,t our chiefest care,
Was horse to ride, and weapon wear.
Such nights we've had ; and, though the game
Of manhood be more sober tame,
And though the field-day, or the drill,
Seem less important now-yet still
Such may we hope to share again.
The sprightly thought inspires my strain !
And mark, how, like a horseman true,
Lord Marmion's march I thus renew.
USTACE, I said, did blithely mark
The first notes of the merry lark.
The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew,
And loudly Marmion's bugles blew,
-And with their light and lively call,
Brought groom and yeoman to the stall.
Whistling they came, and free of heart,
But soon their mood was changed ;
Complaint was heard on every part,
Of something disarranged.
Some clamour'd loud for armour lost ;
Some brawlid and wrangled with the host :
" By Becket's bones,” cried one, “ I fear,
That some false Scot has stolen my spear!”.
Young Blount, Lord Marmion's second squire,
Found his steed wet with sweat and mire ;
Although the rated horse-boy sware,
Last night he dress’d him sleek and fair.
While chafed the impatient squire like
Old Hubert shouts, in fear and wonder,-
“Help, gentle Blount ! help, comrades all !
Bevis lies dying in his stall :
To Marmion who the plight dare tell,
Of the good steed he loves so well ? ”-
Gaping for fear and ruth, they saw
The charger panting on his straw ;
Till one who would seem wisest, cried, -
“What else but evil could betide,
With that cursed Palmer for our guide ?
Better we had through mire and bush
Been lantern-led by Friar Rush." +
ITZ-EUSTACE, who the cause but
guess'd, Nor wholly understood, His comrades' clamorous plaints sup
He knew Lord Marmion's mood. Him, ere he issued forth, he sought, And found deep plunged in gloomy thought,
And did his tale display
Simply, as if he knew of nought
To cause such disarray.
Lord Marmion gave attention cold,
Nor marvell’d at the wonders told, -
Pass'd them as accidents of course,
And bade his clarions sound to horse.
OUNG Henry Blount, meanwhile, the cost
Had reckon'd with their Scottish host; And, as the charge he cast and paid, “ Ill thou deserv'st thy hire,” he said ; “ Dost see, thou knave, my horse's plight ? Fairies have ridden him all the night,
And left him in a foam !
I trust that soon a conjuring band,
With English cross, and blazing brand,
Shall drive the devils from this land,
To their infernal home
For in this haunted den, I trow,
All night they trampled to and fro.”-
The laughing host look'd on the hire,-
Gramercy, gentle southern squire,
And if thou comest among the rest,
With Scottish broadsword to be blest,
Sharp be the brand, and sure the blow,
And short the pang to undergo.”—
Here stay'd their talk,—for Marmion
Gave now the signal to set on.
The Palmer showing forth the way,
They journey'd all the morning day.
HE green-sward way was smooth and
good, Through Humbie's and through Saltoun's
A forest glade, which, varying still,
Here gave a view of dale and hill,
There narrower closed, till over head
A vaulted screen the branches made.
A pleasant path,” Fitz-Eustace said;
“Such as where errant-knights might see
Adventures of high chivalry ;