Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/98

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MARMION.
IV.Theirs was the glee of martial breast,65And laughter theirs at little jest;And oft Lord Marmion deign'd to aid,And mingle in the mirth they made;For though, with men of high degree,The proudest of the proud was he,70Yet, train'd in camps, he knew the artTo win the soldier's hardy heart.They love a captain to obey,Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May;With open hand, and brow as free,75Lover of wine and minstrelsy;Ever the first to scale a tower,As venturous in a lady's bower:—Such buxom chief shall lead his hostFrom India's fires to Zembla's frost.
V.80Resting upon his pilgrim staff, Right opposite the Palmer stood;His thin dark visage seen but half, Half hidden by his hood.Still fix'd on Marmion was his look,85Which he, who ill such gaze could brook, Strove by a frown to quell;But not for that, though more than onceFull met their stern encountering glance, The Palmer's visage fell.
VI.90By fits less frequent from the crowdWas heard the burst of laughter loud;For still, as squire and archer staredOn that dark face and matted beard, Their glee and game declined.95All gazed at length in silence drear,Unbroke, save when in comrade's earSome yeoman, wondering in his fear,
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