And, noble earl, receive my hand." "My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still To each one whom he lists, howe'er "An 't were not for thy hoary beard, To cleave the Douglas' head! Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near And if thou said'st I am not a peer Lord Angus, thou hast lied!" On the earl's cheek the flush of rage O'ercame the ashen hue of age: Fierce he broke forth: “And darest thou, then, To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall? Up drawbridge, grooms! what, warder, ho! Lord Marmion turned, - well was his need, - The steed along the drawbridge flies, And when Lord Marmion reached his band, And shakes his gauntlet at the towers! Sir W. Scott. CLXV. HIGHLAND WAR-SONG. DIBROCH of Donuil Dhu, pibroch of Donuil, PIBROC Wake thy wild voice anew, summon Clan Conuil. Come away, come away, hark to the summons ! Come in your war-array, gentles and commons. Come from deep glen, and from mountain so rocky; Leave untended the herd, the flock without shelter; Leave the corpse uninterred, the bride at the altar; Leave the deer, leave the steer, leave nets and barges : Come with your fighting gear, broadswords and targes. Come as the winds come, when forests are rended, Faster come, faster come, faster and faster, Chief, vassal, page and groom, tenant and master. Fast they come, fast they come; see how they gather! Ο CLXVI. THE BATTLE OF NASEBY. H, wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North, With your hands, and your feet, and your raiment all red? And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous shout? And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye tread? Oh, evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit, And crimson was the juice, of the vintage that we trod! For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the strong, Who sat in high places, and slew the saints of God. It was about the noon of a glorious day of June, That we saw their banners dance, and their cuirasses shine; And the Man of Blood was there, with his long essencéd hair, And Astley, and Sir Marmaduke, and Rupert of the Rhine. Like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword, And hark! like the roar of the billows on the shore, "For God! for the Cause! for the Church! for the Laws! For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. They are here! They rush on! We are broken! We are gone! Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. O Lord, put forth thy might! O Lord, defend the right! Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last. Stout Skippon hath a wound; the centre hath given ground; Hark! hark! what means this trampling of horsemen in our rear? Whose banner do I see, boys? 'Tis he, thank God! 't is he, boys! Bear up another minute; brave Oliver is here. Their heads all stooping low, their points all in a row, Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the dikes; Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the Accurst, And at a shock have scattered the forest of his pikes. Fast, fast, the gallants ride, in some safe nook to hide CLXVII. L "LOOK NOT UPON THE WINE.” OOK not upon the wine when it Is red within the cup! Stay not for pleasure when she fills Her tempting beaker up! Though clear its depths, and rich its glow, A spell of madness lurks below. They say 't is pleasant on the lip, And merry on the brain; They say it stirs the sluggish blood, And dulls the tooth of pain. Macaulay. CLXVIII. THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW. THAT last day in Lucknow fort; That the enemy's mines had crept surely in, And the end was coming fast. To yield to that foe meant worse than death, There was one of us, a corporal's wife, And her mind was wandering. |