Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/134

Lord Marmion turn'd him half aside,
And twice to clear his voice he tried,
 Then press'd Sir David's hand,—
But nought, at length, in answer said;
485And here their farther converse staid,
 Each ordering that his band
Should bowne them with the rising day,
To Scotland's camp to take their way,
 Such was the King's command.

XXIII.
490Early they took Dun-Edin's road,
And I could trace each step they trode:
Hill, brook, nor dell, nor rock, nor stone,
Lies on the path to me unknown.
Much might if boast of storied lore;
495But, passing such digression o'er,
Suffice it that their route was laid
Across the furzy hills of Braid.
They pass'd the glen and scanty rill,
And climb'd the opposing bank, until
500They gain'd the top of Blackford Hill.

XXIV.
 Blackford! on whose uncultured breast,
  Among the broom, and thorn, and whin,
 A truant-boy, I sought the nest,
 Or listed, as I lay at rest,
505  While rose, on breezes thin,
 The murmur of the city crowd,
 And, from his steeple jangling loud,
  Saint Giles's mingling din.
 Now, from the summit to the plain,
510 Waves all the hill with yellow grain;
  And o'er the landscape as I look,
 Nought do I see unchanged remain,
  Save the rude cliffs and chiming brook.
 To me they make a heavy moan,
515 Of early friendships past and gone.