Marmion

Sadly to Blount did Eustace say, 
‘Unworthy office here to stay! 
No hope of gilded spurs to-day.- 
But see! look up-on Flodden bent 
The Scottish foe has fired his tent.’ 
  And sudden, as he spoke, 
From the sharp ridges of the hill, 
All downward to the banks of Till, 
  Was wreathed in sable smoke. 
Volumed and fast, and rolling far, 
The cloud enveloped Scotland’s war, 
  As down the hill they broke; 

Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, 
Announced their march; their tread alone, 
At times one warning trumpet blown,        
  At times a stifled hum, 
Told England, from his mountain-throne 
  King James did rushing come.-

Scarce could they hear, or see their foes, 
  Until at weapon-point they close.-          
They close, in clouds of smoke and dust, 
With sword-sway, and with lance’s thrust;

  And such a yell was there, 
Of sudden and portentous birth, 
As if men fought upon the earth, 
  And fiends in upper air; 
Oh, life and death were in the shout, 
Recoil and rally, charge and rout, 
  And triumph and despair.

Long look’d the anxious squires; their eye 
Could in the darkness nought descry.

XXVI.

At length the freshening western blast 
Aside the shroud of battle cast; 
And, first, the ridge of mingled spears 
Above the brightening cloud appears;  

And in the smoke the pennons flew, 
As in the storm the white sea-mew. 

Then mark’d they, dashing broad and far, 
The broken billows of the war, 
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 flash’d amain; 
Fell England’s arrow-flight like rain;          
Crests rose, and stoop’d, 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 Edmund Howard’s lion bright, 
Still bear them bravely in the fight; 
  Although against them come, 
Of gallant Gordons many a one, 
And many a stubborn Badenoch-man, 
And many a rugged Border clan, 
  With Huntly, and with Home.

XXVII.

Far on the left, unseen the while, 
Stanley broke Lennox and Argyle;

Though there the western mountaineer 
Rush’d with bare bosom on the spear, 
And flung the feeble targe aside, 
And with both hands the broadsword plied.