XXXV Day dawns upon the mountain's side. Look northward with upbraiding eye; Nor cherish hope in vain That, journeying far on foreign strand, The Royal Pilgrim to his land May yet return again. He saw the wreck his rashness wrought; And fell on Flodden plain: 1 And well in death his trusty brand, But oh! how changed since yon blithe night! Unto my tale again. 1 See Note 103. XXXVI Short is my tale:- Fitz-Eustace' care 'T was levelled when fanatic Brook The fair cathedral stormed and took,1 But, thanks to Heaven and good Saint Chad, A guerdon meet the spoiler had! There erst was martial Marmion found, And all around, on scutcheon rich, 1 See Note 104. Sore wounded, Sibyl's Cross he spied, The spoilers stripped and gashed the slain, The lowly woodsman took the room. XXXVII Less easy task it were to show Lord Marmion's nameless grave and low. They dug his grave e'en where he lay, But every mark is gone: Time's wasting hand has done away The simple Cross of Sibyl Grey, And broke her font of stone; But yet from out the little hill And shepherd boys repair To seek the water-flag and rush, And plait their garlands fair, Nor dream they sit upon the grave That holds the bones of Marmion brave. When thou shalt find the little hill, With thy heart commune and be stili. Thou left'st the right path for the wrong, Still led thee further from the road, Dread thou to speak presumptuous doom But say, 'He died a gallant knight, XXXVIII I do not rhyme to that dull elf That all through Flodden's dismal night Wilton was foremost in the fight, That when brave Surrey's steed was slain 'T was Wilton mounted him again; 'T was Wilton's brand that deepest hewed Amid the spearmen's stubborn wood: Unnamed by Holinshed or Hall, He was the living soul of all; That, after fight, his faith made plain, To whom it must in terms be said That king and kinsmen did agree Who cannot, unless I relate, Paint to her mind the bridal's state, That Wolsey's voice the blessing spoke,. In blessing to a wedded pair, 'Love they like Wilton and like Clare!' |