XXXVII. Less easy task it were, to show Lord Marmion's nameless grave, and low Time's wasting hand has done away That holds the bones of Marmion brave.— With thy heart commune, and be still. Thou left'st the right path for the wrong; If every devious step, thus trod, Still led thee further from the road; Dread thou to speak presumptuous doom But say, "He died a gallant knight, XXXVIII. I do not rhyme to that dull elf, Who cannot image to himself, That all through Flodden's dismal night, Wilton was foremost in the fight; That, when brave Surrey's steed was slain, "Twas Wilton mounted him again; "Twas Wilton's brand that deepest hew'd, Amid the spearman's stubborn wood: Paint to her mind the bridal's state; And afterwards, for many a day, That it was held enough to say, In blessing to a wedded pair, "Love they like Wilton and like Clare!" L'Envoy. TO THE READER. WHY then a final note prolong, A garland for the hero's crest, And twined by her he loves the best; What can wish but faithful knight? To thee, dear school-boy, whom my lay |