So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, The monarch o'er the siren hung, "His giant form, like ruined tower, p. 257-261. Though fallen its muscles' brawny vaunt, Huge boned, and tall, and grim, and gaunt, His locks and beard in silver grew; His eyebrows kept their sable hue." p. 263, 264. Some giant Douglas may be found So pale his face, so huge his limb, So old his arms, his looks so grim." p. 333. But We shall begin our extracts from the Flodden scenes, with the following moving picture of the passage of the English host through the deep vale of the Till, and of the fatal inactivity of the Scottish army. "High sight it is, and haughty, while They dive into the deep defile ; By rock, by oak, by hawthorn tree, And bending o'er the Gothick arch, "And why stands Scotland idly now, What checks the fiery soul of James ?- And sees, between him and his land, What vails the vain knight-errant's brand!— O for one hour of Wallace wight, From fate's dark book a leaf been torn, And Flodden had been Bannock bourne !"- p. 345–7. The battle itself, as we have already intimated, is described as it appeared to the two squires of Lord Marmion, who were left on an eminence in the rear, as the guard of Lady Clare: and certainly, of all the poetical battles which have been fought, from the days of Homer to those of Mr. Southey, there is none, in our opinion, at all comparable, for interest and animation, for breadth of drawing, and magnificence of effect, with this of Mr. Scott's. The Scottish army set fire to its camp on the brow of the hill, and rushed down to the attack, under cover of the smoke of the conflagration. "Volumed and vast, and rolling far, The cloud enveloped Scotland's war, Told England, from his mountain throne They close in clouds of smoke and dust, Of sudden and portentous birth, Long looked the anxious squires; their eye At length the freshening western blast And plumed crests of chieftains brave, Floating like foam upon the wave; But nought distinct they see: Wide raged the battle on the plain; Spears shook, and falchions flashed amain; Fell England's arrow-flight like rain; Crests rose, and stooped, and rose again, Wild and disorderly. Amid the scene of tumult, high They saw Lord Marmion's falcon fly: And stainless Tunstall's banner white, And Edmond Howard's lion bright, And with both hands the broad-sword plied: Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew As bends the bark's mast in the gale, It wavered mid the foes." p. 354-357. The two squires now successively desert their fair charge to fly to the relief of their lord; and Clara is left alone on the hill a prey to terrour and anxiety. "With that, straight up the hill there rode And in their arms, a helpless load, A wounded knight they bore. His hand still strained the broken brand; And, gazing on his ghastly face, That spear-wound has our master sped; peace!" "When, doffed his casque, he felt free air, Around gan Marmion wildly stare :— Where's Harry Blount? Fitz-Eustace where ? Cry-" Marmion to the rescue!"-Vain! Last of my race, on battle-plain That shout shall ne'er be heard again! Tunstall lies dead upon the field; Let Stanley charge with spur of fire,- Must I bid twice?-hence, varlets! fly! Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring By the light quivering aspen made; Scarce were the piteous accents said, When, with the baron's casque, the maid Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears; She stooped her by the runnel's side, Where water clear, as diamond-spark, In a stone basin fell. Above, some half-worn letters say, "Drink. weary. pilgrim. drink. and. pray. For. the. kind. soul. of. Sybel. Grey. Who. built. this. cross. and. well.” She filled the helm, and back she hied, &c." p. 359-363. Is it the hand of Clare," he said, 'Or injured Constance, bathes my head?" Then, as remembrance rose,— Speak not to me of shrift or prayer! I must redress her woes. Short space, few words, are mine to spare; دو "Alas!" she said, "the while, O think of your immortal weal! Lord Marmion started from the ground, As light as if he felt no wound; Though in the action burst the tide, "Then it was truth!" he said: "I knew Clara and a charitable priest now try in vain to sooth his last remorseless agonies: he hears a lady's voice singing reproachful stanzas in his ear, and is deaf to the consolations or hopes of religion. All at once "The war, that for a space did fail, Now trebly thundering swelled the gale, A light on Marmion's visage spread, With dying hand, above his head And shouted " Victory! "Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!".. Were the last words of Marmion." p. 366. The lady is now hurried away by the priest; and the close of the day is thus described, with undiminished vigour and spirit. "But as they left the dark'ning heath, More desperate grew the strife of death. That fought around their king. But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, The stubborn spear-men still made good Each stepping where his comrade stood, No thought was there of dastard flight;- Till utter darkness closed her wing O'er their thin host and wounded king. Led back from strife his shattered bands; As mountain waves, from wasted lands, Then did their loss his foemen know; Their king, their lords, their mightiest low, They melted from the field; as snow, When streams are swoln, and south winds blow, Dissolves in silent dew. Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, While many a broken band, Disordered, through her currents dash, To gain the Scottish land; To town and tower, to down and dale To tell red Flodden's dismal tale, And raise the universal wail." p. 368-370. The powerful poetry of these passages can receive no illustration from any praises or observations of ours. It is superiour, in our apprehension, |