Marmion

Young Selby, at the fair hall-board, 
Carved to his uncle and that lord, 
And reverently took up the word.

‘Kind uncle, woe were we each one, 
If harm should hap to brother John. 
He is a man of mirthful speech, 
Can many a game and gambol teach;

Full well at tables can he play, 
And sweep at bowls the stake away. 

None can a lustier carol bawl, 
The needfullest among us all, 
When time hangs heavy in the hall,

And snow comes thick at Christmas tide, 
And we can neither hunt, nor ride 
A foray on the Scottish side.

The vow’d revenge of Bughtrig rude, 
May end in worse than loss of hood.

Let Friar John, in safety, still 
In chimney-corner snore his fill, 
Roast hissing crabs, or flagons swill:

Last night, to Norham there came one, 
Will better guide Lord Marmion.’-

‘Nephew,’ quoth Heron, ‘by my fay, 
Well hast thou spoke; say forth thy say,’-

XXIII

‘Here is a holy Palmer come, 
From Salem first, and last from Rome; 
One, that hath kiss’d the blessed tomb,

And visited each holy shrine, 
In Araby and Palestine; 
On hills of Armenie hath been, 
Where Noah’s ark may yet be seen;

By that Red Sea, too, hath he trod, 
Which parted at the Prophet’s rod; 
In Sinai’s wilderness he saw 
The Mount, where Israel heard the law,

‘Mid thunder-dint and flashing levin, 
And shadows, mists, and darkness, given. 
He shows Saint James’s cockle-shell, 
Of fair Montserrat, too, can tell;

  And of that Grot where Olives nod, 
Where, darling of each heart and eye, 
From all the youth of Sicily, 
  Saint Rosalie retired to God.

XXIV.

‘To stout Saint George of Norwich merry, 
Saint Thomas, too, of Canterbury, 
Cuthbert of Durham and Saint Bede, 
For his sins’ pardon hath he pray’d.

He knows the passes of the North, 
And seeks far shrines beyond the Forth; 
Little he eats, and long will wake, 
And drinks but of the stream or lake.

This were a guide o’er moor and dale; 
But, when our John hath quaff’d his ale,