Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/47
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CANTO I.
17
60His helm hung at the saddlebow;Well by his visage you might knowHe was a stalworth knight, and keen,And had in many a battle been;The scar on his brown cheek reveal'd65A token true of Bosworth field;His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire,Show'd spirit proud, and prompt to ire;Yet lines of thought upon his cheekDid deep design and counsel speak.70His forehead by his casque worn bare,His thick mustache, and curly hair,Coal-black, and grizzled here and there, But more through toil than age;His square-turn'd joints, and strength of limb,75Show'd him no carpet knight so trim,But in close fight a champion grim, In camps a leader sage.
VI.Well was he arm'd from head to heel,In mail and plate of Milan steel;80But his strong helm, of mighty cost,Was all with burnish'd gold emboss'd;Amid the plumage of the crest,A falcon hover'd on her nest,With wings outspread, and forward breast;85E'en such a falcon, on his shield,Soar'd sable in an azure field:The golden legend bore aright,Who checks at me, to death is dight.Blue was the charger's broider'd rein;90Blue ribbons deck'd his arching mane;The knightly housing's ample foldWas velvet blue, and trapp'd with gold.
VII.Behind him rode two gallant squires,Of noble name, and knightly sires;