Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/77

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CANTO II.
47
XIII.Then Whitby's nuns exulting told,How to their house three Barons bold Must menial service do;235While horns blow out a note of shame,And monks cry 'Fye upon your name!In wrath, for loss of silvan game, Saint Hilda's priest ye slew.'—'This, on Ascension-day, each year,240While labouring on our harbour-pier,Must Herbert, Bruce, and Percy hear.'—They told how in their convent-cellA Saxon princess once did dwell, The lovely Edelfled;245And how, of thousand snakes, each oneWas changed into a coil of stone, When holy Hilda pray'd;Themselves, within their holy bound,Their stony folds had often found.250They told, how sea-fowls' pinions fail,As over Whitby's towers they sail,And, sinking down, with flutterings faint,They do their homage to the saint.
XIV.Nor did Saint Cuthbert's daughters fail,255To vie with these in holy tale;His body's resting-place, of old,How oft their patron changed, they told;How, when the rude Dane burn'd their pile,The monks fled forth from Holy Isle;260O'er northern mountain, marsh, and moor,From sea to sea, from shore to shore,Seven years Saint Cuthbert's corpse they bore. They rested them in fair Melrose;  But though, alive, he loved it well,265 Not there his relics might repose;  For, wondrous tale to tell!
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