So shall he strive, in changeful hue,
Field, feast, and combat, to renew,

And loves, and arms, and harpers' glee,
And all the pomp of chivalry.

Canto Fifth.

The Court.

I.

HE 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,
And carried pikes as they rode through,
Into its ample bound.

Fast ran the Scottish warriors there,
Upon the Southern band to stare ;
And envy with their wonder rose,
To see such well-appointed foes;
Such length of shafts, such mighty bows,
So huge, that many simply thought,
But for a vaunt such weapons wrought;
And little deem'd their force to feel,

Through links of mail, and plates of steel,
When rattling upon Flodden vale,
The cloth-yard arrows flew like hail.t

II.

OR less did Marmion's skilful view

Glance every line and squadron through;

And much he marvell'd one small land
Could marshal forth such various band;
For men-at-arms were here,

Heavily sheathed in mail and plate,
Like iron towers for strength and weight,
On Flemish steeds of bone and height,
With battle-axe and spear.

Young knights and squires, a lighter train,

Practised their chargers on the plain,
By aid of leg, of hand, and rein,
Each warlike feat to show,

To pass, to wheel, the croupe to gain,
And high curvett, that not in vain
The sword-sway might descend amain
On foeman's casque below.

He saw the hardy burghers there

March arm'd, on foot, with faces bare,+
For vizor they wore none,

Nor waving plume, nor crest of knight;
But burnished were their corslets bright,
Their brigantines, and gorgets light,
Like very silver shone.

Long pikes they had for standing fight,
Two-handed swords they wore,

And many wielded mace of weight,
And bucklers bright they bore.

III.

IN foot the yeoman too,† but dress'd
In his steel-jack, a swarthy vest,
With iron quilted well;

Each at his back (a slender store)
His forty days' provision bore,

As feudal statutes tell.

His arms were halbert, axe, or spear,
A cross-bow there, a hagbut here,
A dagger-knife, and brand.
Sober he seem'd, and sad of cheer,
As loth to leave his cottage dear,

And march to foreign strand ;

Or musing, who would guide his steer,
To till the fallow land.

Yet deem not, in his thoughtful eye
Did aught of dastard terror lie ;
More dreadful far his ire,

Then theirs, who, scorning danger's name,
In eager mood to battle came,

Their valour like light straw on flame,

A fierce but fading fire.

IV.

OT so the Borderer :-bred to war,
He knew the battle's din afar,

And joyed to hear it swell.

His peaceful day was slothful ease;

Nor harp, nor pipe, his ear could please,

Like the loud slogan yell.

On active steed, with lance and blade, The light-arm'd pricker plied his trade,Let nobles fight for fame;

Let vassals follow where they lead,

Burghers to guard their townships bleed, But war's the Borderer's game.

Their gain, their glory, their delight,