At length the freshening western blast And pluméd crests of chieftains brave, Wide raged the battle on the plain ; Far on the left, unseen the while, And with both hands the broadsword plied, With fickle smile, cheered Scotland's fight. Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew 30 The Border slogan rent the sky. The pennon sunk and rose; 35 As bends the bark's mast in the gale, When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail, It wavered 'mid the foes. No longer Blount the view could bear: Fitz Eustace, you, with Lady Clare, And to the fray he rode amain, The fiery youth, with desperate charge, 10 Made. for a space, an opening large, The rescued banner rose, But darkly closed the war around, 15 Then Eustace mounted too; · - yet staid, As loath to leave the helpless maid, When, fast as shaft can fly, Blood-shot his eyes, his nostrils spread, The loose rein dangling from his head, 20 Housing and saddle bloody red, 25 30 Lord Marmion's steed rushed by ; The tumult roar'd, "Is Wilton there?" Fight but to die. -66 Is Wilton there ?" XXI.--SAME SUBJECT, CONCLUDED. WITH that, straight up the hill there rode And in their arms, a helpless load, A wounded knight they bore. 5 His hand still strain'd the broken brand; With dinted shield, and helmet beat, The falcon-crest and plumage gone, 10 Can that be haughty Marmion!... When, doff'd his casque, he felt free air, 66 Where's Harry Blount? Fitz Eustace where? Linger ye here, ye hearts of hare! 15 Redeem my pennon, — charge again! Cry- Marmicn to the rescue!'. - vain! Last of my race, on battle-plain 20 That shout shall ne'er be heard again! Tell him his squadrons up to bring.- Tunstall lies dead upon the field, Let Stanley charge with spur of fire, - - to die!" They parted, and alone he lay: Clare dre her from the sight away, Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan, And half he murmured, 166 Is there none Of all my halls have nurst, Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring 5 Of blessed water from the spring, To slake my dying thirst!" O, woman! in our hours of ease, 10 By the light quivering aspen made; 15 Scarce were the piteous accents said, Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears; She fill'd the helm, and back she hied, 20 And with surprise and joy espied A monk supporting Marmion's head; 30 With dying hand, above his head, He shook the fragment of his blade, Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on !" 85 By this, though deep the evening fell, Still rose the battle's deadly swell, For still the Scots, around their king, That fought around their king. But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, Though charging knights like whirlwinds go 10 Though billmen ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring; 15 The stubborn spearmen still made good Each stepping where his comrade stood, No thought was there of dastard flight; 20 Till utter darkness closed her wing Then did their loss his foeman know; 30 When streams are swoln, and south winds blow Dissolves in silent dew. Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, Disorder'd, through her currents dash, |