Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/138

But northward far, with purer blaze,
On Ochil mountains fell the rays,
620And as each heathy top they kiss'd,
It gleam'd a purple amethyst.
Yonder the shores of Fife you saw;
Here Preston-Bay, and Berwick-Law;
 And, broad between them roll'd,
625The gallant Frith the eye might note,
Whose islands on its bosom float,
 Like emeralds chased in gold.
Fitz-Eustace' heart felt closely pent;
As if to give his rapture vent,
630The spur he to his charger lent,
 And raised his bridle hand,
And, making demi-volte in air,
Cried, 'Where's the coward that would not dare
 To fight for such a land!'
635The Lindesay smiled his joy to see;
Nor Marmion's frown repress'd his glee.

XXXI.
Thus while they look'd, a flourish proud,
Where mingled trump, and clarion loud,
 And fife, and kettle-drum,
640And sackbut deep, and psaltery,
And war-pipe with discordant cry,
And cymbal clattering to the sky,
Making wild music bold and high,
 Did up the mountain come;
645The whilst the bells, with distant chime,
Merrily toll'd the hour of prime,
 And thus the Lindesay spoke:
'Thus clamour still the war-notes when
The King to mass his way has ta'en,
650Or to Saint Katharine's of Sienne,
 Or Chapel of Saint Rocque.
To you they speak of martial fame;
But me remind of peaceful game,