Walter Scott - Marmion

So thou, fair City! disarray’d
Of battled wall, and rampart’s aid,
As stately seem’st, but lovelier far
Than in that panoply of war.

Nor deem that from thy fenceless throne
Strength and security are flown;
Still as of yore, Queen of the North!
Still canst thou send thy children forth.

Ne’er readier at alarm-bell’s call
Thy burghers rose to man thy wall,
Than now, in danger, shall be thine,
Thy dauntless voluntary line;

For fosse and turret proud to stand,
Their breasts the bulwarks of the land.

Thy thousands, train’d to martial toil,
Full red would stain their native soil,
Ere from thy mural crown there fell
The slightest knosp, or pinnacle.

And if it come,-as come it may,
Dun-Edin! that eventful day,-
Renown’d for hospitable deed,
That virtue much with Heaven may plead,
In patriarchal times whose care
Descending angels deign’d to share;

That claim may wrestle blessings down
On those who fight for The Good Town,
Destined in every age to be
Refuge of injured royalty;

Since first, when conquering York arose,
To Henry meek she gave repose,
Till late, with wonder, grief, and awe,
Great Bourbon’s relics, sad she saw.

Truce to these thoughts!-for, as they rise,
How gladly I avert mine eyes,
Bodings, or true or false, to change,
For Fiction’s fair romantic range,
Or for Tradition’s dubious light,
That hovers ‘twixt the day and night:

Dazzling alternately and dim
Her wavering lamp I’d rather trim,
Knights, squires, and lovely dames, to see,
Creation of my fantasy,

Than gaze abroad on reeky fen,
And make of mists invading men.-
Who loves not more the night of June
Than dull December’s gloomy noon?

The moonlight than the fog of frost?
But can we say, which cheats the most?

But who shall teach my harp to gain
A sound of the romantic strain,
Whose Anglo-Norman tones whilere
Could win the royal Henry’s ear,
Famed Beauclerk call’d, for that he loved
The minstrel, and his lay approved?

Who shall these lingering notes redeem,
Decaying on Oblivion’s stream;

Such notes as from the Breton tongue
Marie translated, Blondel sung?-

O! born, Time’s ravage to repair,
And make the dying Muse thy care;

Who, when his scythe her hoary foe
Was poising for the final blow,
The weapon from his hand could wring,
And break his glass, and shear his wing,
And bid, reviving in his strain,
The gentle poet live again;

Thou, who canst give to lightest lay
An unpedantic moral gay,
Nor less the dullest theme bid flit
On wings of unexpected wit;

In letters as in life approved,
Example honour’d, and beloved,-
Dear ELLIS! to the bard impart
A lesson of thy magic art,
To win at once the head and heart,-

At once to charm, instruct, and mend,
My guide, my pattern, and my friend!

Such minstrel lesson to bestow
Be long thy pleasing task,-but, O!

No more by thy example teach,-
What few can practise, all can preach,-
With even patience to endure
Lingering disease, and painful cure,
And boast affliction’s pangs subdued
By mild and manly fortitude.

Enough, the lesson has been given:
Forbid the repetition, Heaven!

Come listen, then! for thou hast known,
And loved the Minstrel’s varying tone,
Who, like his Border sires of old,
Waked a wild measure rude and bold,
Till Windsor’s oaks, and Ascot plain,
With wonder heard the northern strain.

Come listen! bold in thy applause,
The Bard shall scorn pedantic laws;

And, as the ancient art could stain
Achievements on the storied pane,
Irregularly traced and plann’d,
But yet so glowing and so grand,-

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.

The 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.

Nor 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 burnish’d 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.

On 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 crossbow there, a hagbut here,
A dagger-knife, and brand.
Sober he seem’d, and sad of cheer,
As loath 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,
Than theirs, who, scorning danger’s name,
In eager mood to battle came,
Their valour like light straw on name,
A fierce but fading fire.

Not so the Borderer:-bred to war,
He knew the battle’s din afar,
And joy’d to hear it swell.
His peaceful day was slothful ease;
Nor harp, nor pipe, his ear could please,
Like the loud slogan yell.