So he would march with morning tide, To Scottish court to be his guide. "But I have solemn vows to pay, And may not linger by the way, To fair Saint Andrew's bound, Within the ocean-cave to pray, From midnight to the dawn of day, Sung to the billows' sound; Thence to Saint Fillan's blessed well, Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel, Saint Mary grant, that cave or spring Or bid it throb no more!" XXX. And now the midnight draught of sleep, Where wine and spices richly steep, In massive bowl of silver deep, The page presents on knee. Lord Marmion drank a fair good rest, The Captain pledged his noble guest, The cup went through among the rest, Alone the Palmer passed it by, Though Selby pressed him courteously. This was the sign the feast was o'er; It hushed the merry wassel roar, The minstrels ceased to sound. Pacing his sober round. XXXI. With early dawn Lord Marmion rose : And first the chapel doors unclose; Then, after morning rites were done, (A hasty mass from Friar John,) And knight and squire had broke their fast, On rich substantial repast, Lord Marmion's bugles blew to horse. Then came the stirrup-cup in course; Between the Baron and his host, No point of courtesy was lost: High thanks were by Lord Marmion paid, Solemn excuse the Captain made, Till, filing from the gate, had past That noble train, their Lord the last. And shook the Scottish shore; Around the castle eddied, slow, Volumes of smoke as white as snow, And hid its turrets hoar; Till they rolled forth upon the air, And met the river breezes there, Which gave again the prospect fair. END OF CANTO FIRST. |