blithe

But, O! how changed since yon

night!

Gladly I turn me from the sight,

Unto my tale again.

XXXVI.

Short is my tale :-Fitz-Eustace' care
A pierced and mangled body bare
To moated Lichfield's lofty pile;
And there, beneath the southern aisle,
A tomb, with Gothic sculpture fair,
Did long Lord Marmion's image bear,
(Now vainly for its site you look ;
'Twas levell'd, when fanatic Brook
The fair cathedral storm'd and took;1

and even the circumstance of his returning unhurt, and loaded with spoil, from so fatal a conflict, rendered the propagation of any calumny against him easy and acceptable. Other reports gave a still more romantic turn to the King's fate, and averred that James, weary of greatness after the carnage among his nobles, had gone on a pilgrimage, to merit absolution for the death of his father, and the breach of his oath of amity to Henry. In particular, it was objected to the English, that they could never show the token of the iron belt; which, however, he was likely enough to have laid aside on the day of battle, as encumbering his personal exertions. They produce a better evidence, the monarch's sword and dagger, which are still preserved in the Herald's College in London. Stowe has recorded a degrading story of the disgrace with which the remains of the unfortunate monarch was treated in his time. An unhewn column marks the spot where James fell, still called the King's Stone.

1 This storm of Lichfield cathedral, which had been gar

But, thanks to Heaven, and good Saint

Chad,

A guerdon meet the spoiler had!)

There erst was martial Marmion found,
His feet upon a couchant hound,

His hands to Heaven upraised;
And all around, on scutcheon rich,
And tablet carved, and fretted niche,
His arms and feats were blazed.
And yet, though all was carved so fair,
And priest for Marmion breathed the prayer,
The last Lord Marmion lay not there.
From Ettrick woods, a peasant swain
Follow'd his lord to Flodden plain,—
One of those flowers, whom plaintive lay
In Scotland mourns as
"wede away:
Sore wounded, Sybil's Cross he spied,
And dragg'd him to its foot, and died,
Close by the noble Marmion's side.
The spoilers stripp'd and gash'd the slain,
And thus their corpses were mista’en;

risoned on the part of the King, took place in the Great Civil War. Lord Brook, who, with Sir John Gill, commanded the assailants, was shot with a musket-ball through the vizor of his helmet. The royalists remarked, that he was killed by a shot fired from St. Chad's Cathedral, and upon St. Chad's day, and received his death-wound in the very eye with which, he had said, he hoped to see the ruin of all the cathedrals in England. The magnificent church in question suffered cruelly upon this and other occasions, the principal spire being ruined by the fire of the besiegers.

And thus, in the proud Baron's tomb,

The lowly woodsman took the room.

XXXVII.

Less easy task it were, to show

Lord Marmion's nameless grave, and low.1
They dug his grave e'en where he lay,"

But every mark is gone;

Time's wasting hand has done away

The simple Cross of Sybil Grey,

And broke her font of stone:

But yet from out the little hill

Oozes the slender springlet still.
Oft halts the stranger there,
For thence may best his curious eye
The memorable field descry;

And shepherd boys repair

To seek the water-flag and rush,
And rest them by the hazel bush,

And plait their garlands fair;
Nor dream they sit upon the grave,

1 ["A corpse is afterwards conveyed, as that of Marmion, to the Cathedral of Lichfield, where a magnificent tomb is erected to his memory, and masses are instituted for the repose of his soul; but by an admirably imagined act of poetical justice, we are informed that a peasant's body was placed beneath that costly monument, while the haughty Baron himself was buried like a vulgar corpse, on the spot on which he died.-Monthly Review.]

2 [MS. "They dug his bed e'en where he lay."] 8 [MS." But yet where swells the little hill."]

That holds the bones of Marmion brave.—
When thou shalt find the little hill,1

With thy heart commune, and be still.
If ever, in temptation strong,

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
On noble Marmion's lowly tomb;
But say, "He died a gallant knight,
With sword in hand, for England's right."

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,2
Amid the spearmen's stubborn wood:
Unnamed by Hollinshed or Hall,

He was the living soul of all;
That, after fight, his faith made plain,
He won his rank and lands again;
And charged his old paternal shield

1 [MS" If thou should'st find this little tomb, Beware to speak a hasty doom."]

2 [MS." He hardest press'd the Scottish ring;

'Twas thought that he struck down the King."]

With bearings won on Flodden Field.
Nor sing I to that simple maid,

To whom it must in terms be said,
That King and kinsmen did agree,
To bless fair Clara's constancy;
Who cannot, unless I relate,

Paint to her mind the bridal's state;
That Wolsey's voice the blessing spoke,
More, Sands, and Denny, pass'd the joke:
That bluff King Hal the curtain drew,
And Catherine's hand the stocking threw :
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,
Or lengthen out a closing song,
Unless to bid the gentles speed,
Who long have listed to my rede? 1
To Statesmen grave, if such may deign

1 Used generally for tale, or discourse.