Walter Scott - The Complete Poems of Sir Walter Scott

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 planned,

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.

Table of Contents

The Court

I

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 shaft, such mighty bows,

So huge, that many simply thought,

But for a vaunt such weapons wrought;

And little deemed their force to feel,

Through links of mail, and plates of steel,

When rattling upon Flodden vale,

The clothyard arrows flew like hail.

II

Nor less did Marmion’s skilful view

Glance every line and squadron through;

And much he marvelled 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 battleaxe 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,

The high curvet, that not in vain

The sword sway might descend amain

On foeman’s casque below.

He saw the hardy burghers there

March armed, 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

On foot the yeomen too, but dressed

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 seemed, 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

Than 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

Not 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-armed 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,

To sleep the day, maraud the night

O’er mountain, moss, and moor;

Joyful to fight they took their way,

Scarce caring who might win the day,

Their booty was secure.

These, as Lord Marmion’s train passed by,

Looked on at first with careless eye,

Nor marvelled aught, well taught to know

The form and force of English bow;

But when they saw the lord arrayed

In splendid arms and rich brocade,

Each Borderer to his kinsman said:-

“Hist, Ringan! seest thou there!

Canst guess which road they’ll homeward ride?

Oh! could we but on Border side,

By Eusedale glen, or Liddell’s tide,

Beset a prize so fair!

That fangless Lion, too, their guide,

Might chance to lose his glistering hide;

Brown Maudlin, of that doublet pied

Could make a kirtle rare.”

V

Next, Marmion marked the Celtic race,

Of different language, form, and face -

Avarious race of man;

Just then the chiefs their tribes arrayed,

And wild and garish semblance made

The chequered trews and belted plaid,

And varying notes the war-pipes brayed

To every varying clan;

Wild through their red or sable hair

Looked out their eyes with savage stare

On Marmion as he passed;

Their legs above the knee were bare;

Their frame was sinewy, short, and spare,

And hardened to the blast;

Of taller race, the chiefs they own

Were by the eagle’s plumage known.

The hunted reddeer’s undressed hide

Their hairy buskins well supplied;

The graceful bonnet decked their head;

Back from their shoulders hung the plaid;

A broadsword of unwieldy length,

A dagger proved for edge and strength,

A studded targe they wore,

And quivers, bows, and shafts,—but, oh!

Short was the shaft and weak the bow

To that which England bore.

The Islesmen carried at their backs

The ancient Danish battleaxe.

They raised a wild and wondering cry

As with his guide rode Marmion by.

Loud were their clamouring tongues, as when

The clanging seafowl leave the fen,

And, with their cries discordant mixed,

Grumbled and yelled the pipes betwixt.

VI

Thus through the Scottish camp they passed,

And reached the city gate at last,

Where all around, a wakeful guard,

Armed burghers kept their watch and ward.

Well had they cause of jealous fear,

When lay encamped, in field so near,

The Borderer and the Mountaineer.

As through the bustling streets they go,

All was alive with martial show;

At every turn, with dinning clang,

The armourer’s anvil clashed and rang;

Or toiled the swarthy smith, to wheel

The bar that arms the charger’s heel;

Or axe or falchion to the side

Of jarring grindstone was applied.

Page, groom, and squire, with hurrying pace,

Through street and lane and marketplace

Bore lance, or casque, or sword;

While burghers, with important face,

Described each newcome lord,

Discussed his lineage, told his name,

His following and his warlike fame.

The Lion led to lodging meet,

Which high o’erlooked the crowded street;

There must the baron rest

Till past the hour of vesper tide,

And then to Holyrood must ride -

Such was the king’s behest.

Meanwhile the Lion’s care assigns

A banquet rich, and costly wines,

To Marmion and his train;

And when the appointed hour succeeds,

The baron dons his peaceful weeds,

And following Lindesay as he leads,