Ballads of Bravery 6
MARMION AND DOUGLAS.
Not far advanced was morning day,
When Marmion did his troop array
To Surrey’s camp to ride.
He had safe-conduct for his band,
Beneath the royal seal and hand,
And Douglas gave a guide.
The ancient earl, with stately grace,
Would Clara on her palfrey place,
And whispered in an undertone,
“Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown.”
The train from out the castle drew,
But Marmion stopped to bid adieu:
“Though something I might ’plain,” he said,
“Of cold respect to stranger guest,
Sent hither by your king’s behest,
While in Tantallon’s towers I stayed,
Part we in friendship from your land,
And, noble earl, receive my hand.”
But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:
“My manors, halls, and bowers shall still
Be open, at my sovereign’s will,
To each one whom he lists, howe’er
Unmeet to be the owner’s peer;
My castles are my king’s alone,
From turret to foundation-stone,--
The hand of Douglas is his own,
And never shall in friendly grasp
The hand of such as Marmion clasp.”
Burned Marmion’s swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frame for ire,
And--“This to me!” he said;--
“An ’twere not for thy hoary beard,
Such hand as Marmion’s had not spared
To cleave the Douglas’ head!
And first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
He who does England’s message here,
Although the meanest in her state,
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate!
And Douglas, more, I tell thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride,
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near,
(Nay, never look upon your lord,
And lay your hands upon your sword,)
I tell thee, thou ’rt defied!
And if thou saidst I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied!”
On the earl’s cheek the flush of rage
O’ercame the ashen hue of age:
Fierce he broke forth, “And dar’st thou then
To beard the lion in his den,
The Douglas in his hall?
And hop’st thou hence unscathed to go?
No, by St. Bride of Bothwell, no!
Up drawbridge, grooms! What, warder, ho!
Let the portcullis fall.”
Lord Marmion turned,--well was his need!--
And dashed the rowels in his steed,
Like arrow through the archway sprung;
The ponderous grate behind him rung:
To pass there was such scanty room,
The bars, descending, razed his plume.
[Illustration]
The steed along the drawbridge flies,
Just as it trembled on the rise;
Not lighter does the swallow skim
Along the smooth lake’s level brim;
And when Lord Marmion reached his band,
He halts, and turns with clinched hand,
And shout of loud defiance pours,
And shook his gauntlet at the towers.
“Horse! horse!” the Douglas cried, “and chase!”
But soon he reigned his fury’s pace:
“A royal messenger he came,
Though most unworthy of the name.
* * * * *
St. Mary mend my fiery mood!
Old age ne’er cools the Douglas blood,
I thought to slay him where he stood.
’Tis pity of him, too,” he cried;
“Bold can he speak and fairly ride,
I warrant him a warrior tried.”
With this his mandate he recalls,
And slowly seeks his castle walls.
THE LOSS OF THE HORNET.
Call the watch! call the watch!
“Ho! the starboard watch, ahoy!” Have you heard
How a noble ship so trim, like our own, my hearties, here,
All scudding ’fore the gale, disappeared,
Where yon southern billows roll o’er their bed so green and clear?
Hold the reel! keep her full! hold the reel!
How she flew athwart the spray, as, shipmates, we do now,
Till her twice a hundred fearless hearts of steel
Felt the whirlwind lift its waters aft, and plunge her
downward bow!
Bear a hand!
Strike top-gallants! mind your helm! jump aloft!
’Twas such a night as this, my lads, a rakish bark was drowned,
When demons foul, that whisper seamen oft,
Scooped a tomb amid the flashing surge that never shall be found.
Square the yards! a double reef! Hark the blast!
O, fiercely has it fallen on the war-ship of the brave,
When its tempest fury stretched the stately mast
All along her foamy sides, as they shouted on the wave,
“Bear a hand!”
Call the watch! call the watch!
“Ho! the larboard watch, ahoy!” Have you heard
How a vessel, gay and taut, on the mountains of the sea,
Went below, with all her warlike crew on board,
They who battled for the happy, boys, and perished for the free?
Clew, clew up, fore and aft! keep away!
How the vulture bird of death, in its black and viewless form,
Hovered sure o’er the clamors of his prey,
While through all their dripping shrouds yelled the spirit of
the storm!
Bear a hand!
[Illustration]
Now out reefs! brace the yards! lively there!
O, no more to homeward breeze shall her swelling bosom spread,
But love’s expectant eye bid despair
Set her raven watch eternal o’er the wreck in ocean’s bed.
Board your tacks! cheerly, boys! But for them,
Their last evening gun is fired, their gales are overblown;
O’er their smoking deck no starry flag shall stream;
They’ll sail no more, they’ll fight no more, for their gallant
ship’s gone down.
Bear a hand!
[Illustration]
MAN THE LIFE-BOAT.
Man the life-boat! Man the life-boat!
Help, or yon ship is lost!
Man the life-boat! Man the life-boat!
See how she’s tempest-tossed.
No human power in such an hour
The gallant bark can save;
Her mainmast gone, and running on,
She seeks her watery grave.
Man the life-boat! Man the life-boat!
See, the dreaded signal flies!
Ha! she’s struck, and from the wreck
Despairing shouts arise.
O, speed the life-boat! Speed the life-boat!
O God, their efforts crown!
She dashes on; the ship is gone,
Full forty fathoms down.
And see, the crew are struggling now
Amidst the tempest roar.
They’re in the boat, they’re all afloat,--
Hurrah! they’ve gained the shore.
Bless the life-boat! Bless the life-boat!
O God, thou’lt hear our prayer!
Bless the life-boat! Bless the life-boat!
No longer we’ll despair.
[Illustration]
SIR GALAHAD.
My good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure,
My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure.
The shattering trumpet shrilleth high,
The hard brands shiver on the steel,
The splintered spear-shafts crack and fly,
The horse and rider reel:
They reel, they roll in clanging lists,
And when the tide of combat stands,
Perfume and flowers fall in showers,
That lightly rain from ladies’ hands.
How sweet are looks that ladies bend
On whom their favors fall!
For them I battle till the end,
To save from shame and thrall:
But all my heart is drawn above,
My knees are bowed in crypt and shrine:
I never felt the kiss of love,
Nor maiden’s hand in mine.
More bounteous aspects on me beam,
Me mightier transports move and thrill;
So keep I fair through faith and prayer
A virgin heart in work and will.
When down the stormy crescent goes,
A light before me swims,
Between dark stems the forest glows,
I hear a noise of hymns:
Then by some secret shrine I ride;
I hear a voice, but none are there;
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