Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/164

620Did to Saint Hilda's shrine repair,
To give our house her livings fair,
And die a vestal vot'ress there.
The impulse from the earth was given,
But bent her to the paths of heaven.
625A purer heart, a lovelier maid,
Ne'er shelter'd her in Whitby's shade,
No, not since Saxon Edelfled;
 Only one trace of earthly strain,
  That for her lover's loss
630 She cherishes a sorrow vain,
  And murmurs at the cross.—
 And then her heritage;—it goes
  Along the banks of Tame;
 Deep fields of grain the reaper mows,
635 In meadows rich the heifer lows,
 The falconer and huntsman knows
  Its woodlands for the game.
Shame were it to Saint Hilda dear,
And I, her humble vot'ress here,
640 Should do a deadly sin,
Her temple spoil'd before mine eyes,
If this false Marmion such a prize
 By my consent should win;
Yet hath our boisterous monarch sworn,
645That Clare shall from our house be torn;
And grievous cause have I to fear,
Such mandate doth Lord Marmion bear.

XXIII.
'Now, prisoner, helpless, and betray'd
To evil power, I claim thine aid,
650 By every step that thou hast trod
To holy shrine and grotto dim,
By every martyr's tortured limb,
By angel, saint, and seraphim,
And by the Church of God!