THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Walter Scott

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      Ere yet the bands met Marmion’s eye,

       Fitz-Eustace shouted loud and high,

       “Hark! hark! my lord, an English drum!

       And see ascending squadrons come

       Between Tweed’s river and the hill,

       Foot, horse, and cannon: hap what hap,

       My basnet to a ‘prentice cap,

       Lord Surrey’s o’er the Till!

       Yet more! yet more!—how far arrayed

       They file from out the hawthorn shade,

       And sweep so gallant by!

       With all their banners bravely spread,

       And all their armour flashing high,

       Saint George might waken from the dead,

       To see fair England’s standards fly.”

       “Stint in thy prate,” quoth Blount, “thou’dst best,

       And listen to our lord’s behest.”

       With kindling brow Lord Marmion said -

       “This instant be our band arrayed;

       The river must be quickly crossed,

       That we may join Lord Surrey’s host.

       If fight King James—as well I trust

       That fight he will, and fight he must,

       The Lady Clare behind our lines

       Shall tarry, while the battle joins.”

       XXII

      Himself he swift on horseback threw,

       Scarce to the Abbot bade adieu;

       Far less would listen to his prayer,

       To leave behind the helpless Clare.

       Down to the Tweed his band he drew,

       And muttered, as the flood they view,

       “The pheasant in the falcon’s claw,

       He scarce will yield to please a daw:

       Lord Angus may the Abbot awe,

       So Clare shall bide with me.”

       Then on that dangerous ford, and deep,

       Where to the Tweed Leat’s eddies creep,

       He ventured desperately:

       And not a moment will he bide,

       Till squire, or groom, before him ride;

       Headmost of all he stems the tide,

       And stems it gallantly.

       Eustace held Clare upon her horse,

       Old Hubert led her rein,

       Stoutly they braved the current’s course,

       And though far downward driven per force,

       The southern bank they gain;

       Behind them straggling, came to shore,

       As best they might, the train;

       Each o’er his head his yew-bow bore,

       A caution not in vain;

       Deep need that day that every string,

       By wet unharmed, should sharply ring.

       A moment then Lord Marmion stayed,

       And breathed his steed, his men arrayed,

       Then forward moved his band,

       Until, Lord Surrey’s rearguard won,

       He halted by a cross of stone,

       That, on a hillock standing lone,

       Did all the field command.

       XXIII

      Hence might they see the full array

       Of either host, for deadly fray;

       Their marshalled lines stretched east and west,

       And fronted north and south,

       And distant salutation passed

       From the loud cannon mouth;

       Not in the close successive rattle,

       That breathes the voice of modern battle,

       But slow and far between.

       The hillock gained, Lord Marmion stayed:

       “Here, by this cross,” he gently said,

       “You well may view the scene.

       Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare:

       Oh! think of Marmion in thy prayer!

       Thou wilt not? well—no less my care

       Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare.

       You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard,

       With ten picked archers of my train;

       With England if the day go hard,

       To Berwick speed amain.

       But if we conquer, cruel maid,

       My spoils shall at your feet be laid,

       When here we meet again.”

       He waited not for answer there,

       And would not mark the maid’s despair,

       Nor heed the discontented look

       From either squire; but spurred amain,

       And, dashing through the battle plain,

       His way to Surrey took.

       XXIV

      “The good Lord Marmion, by my life!

       Welcome to danger’s hour!

       Short greeting serves in time of strife:

       Thus have I ranged my power:

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