Marmion

Sober he seem’d, and sad of cheer,
As loath to leave his cottage dear,
  And march to foreign strand;
Or musing, who would guide his steer,
  To till the fallow land.         

Yet deem not in his thoughtful eye
Did aught of dastard terror lie;
More dreadful far his ire,
Than theirs, who, scorning danger’s name,
In eager mood to battle came,                 
Their valour like light straw on name,
A fierce but fading fire.

IV.

Not so the Borderer:-bred to war, 
He knew the battle’s din afar, 
  And joy’d to hear it swell.    
His peaceful day was slothful ease; 
Nor harp, nor pipe, his ear could please, 
  Like the loud slogan yell.

On active steed, with lance and blade, 
The light-arm’d pricker plied his trade,-  
  Let nobles fight for fame; 
Let vassals follow where they lead, 
Burghers, to guard their townships, bleed, 
  But war’s the Borderer’s game.

Their gain, their glory, their delight,         
To sleep the day, maraud the night, 
  O’er mountain, moss, and moor; 
Joyful to fight they took their way, 
Scarce caring who might win the day, 
  Their booty was secure.                  

These, as Lord Marmion’s train pass’d by, 
Look’d on at first with careless eye, 
Nor marvell’d aught, well taught to know 
The form and force of English bow.

But when they saw the Lord array’d         
In splendid arms, and rich brocade, 
Each Borderer to his kinsman said,- 
  ‘Hist, Ringan! seest thou there! 
Canst guess which road they’ll homeward ride?- 
O! could we but on Border side,                        
By Eusedale glen, or Liddell’s tide, 
  Beset a prize so fair! 
That fangless Lion, too, their guide, 
Might chance to lose his glistering hide; 
Brown Maudlin, of that doublet pied,     
Could make a kirtle rare.’

V.

Next, Marmion marked the Celtic race, 
Of different language, form, and face, 
  A various race of man; 
Just then the Chiefs their tribes array’d, 
And wild and garish semblance made, 
The chequer’d trews, and belted plaid, 
And varying notes the war-pipes bray’d, 
  To every varying clan,

Wild through their red or sable hair       
Look’d out their eyes with savage stare, 
  On Marmion as he pass’d; 
Their legs above the knee were bare; 
Their frame was sinewy, short, and spare, 
  And harden’d to the blast;                     

Of taller race, the chiefs they own 
Were by the eagle’s plumage known. 
The hunted red-deer’s undress’d hide 
Their hairy buskins well supplied;

The graceful bonnet deck’d their head: