"
(_FRAGMENTS OF A MODERN "MARMION."_)
"But DOUGLAS round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:--
* * * * *
'The hand of DOUGLAS is his own,
And never shall in friendly grasp
The hand of such as MARMION clasp.'"
* * * * *
"The hand of such as MARMION!" Ay!
Great Singer of the knightly lay,
Thy tale of Flodden field
Is darkened by unknightly stain.
That slackened arm and burdened brain
Of him found low among the slain,
Constrained at last to yield
To a mere "base marauder's lance;"
He, firm of front and cold of glance,
The dark, the dauntless MARMION.--
The days of chivalry are gone,
Dispraisers of the present say,
Yet men arm still for party fray
As fierce as foray old;
And mail is donned, and steel is drawn,
And champions challenging at dawn
Ere night lie still and cold.
Two champions here 'midst loud applause,
Have led the lists in a joint cause
On many a tourney morn,
Have fought to vanward in the field
Full many an hour, and, sternly steeled,
One banner forward borne.
And now--ah, well, as DOUGLAS old
On MARMION looked sternly cold,
So looks this Chieftain grey
On his old comrade, though the fight
Is forward now, and many a knight
Is arming for the fray.
As "the demeanour changed and cold
Of DOUGLAS fretted MARMION bold,"
Has this old greyhaired Chieftain's chill
Fretted that man of icy will?
Who knows--or cares to know?
At least he "has to learn ere long
That constant mind, and hate of wrong"
Than steely pride are yet more strong;
That shame can strike a blow
At comradeship more fatal far
Than any chance of fateful war
When faction howled with Cerberus throat,
When falsehood struck a felon stroke,
When forgery did its worst
To pull its hated quarry down,
To dim, disarm, degrade, discrown.
Pages:
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33