66
MARMION.
CANTO THIRD.
THE HOSTEL, OR INN.
I.
The livelong day Lord Marmion rode:
The mountain path the Palmer show'd
By glen and streamlet winded still,
Where stunted birches hid the rill.
5They might not choose the lowland road,
For the Merse forayers were abroad,
Who, fired with hate and thirst of prey,
Had scarcely fail'd to bar their way.
Oft on the trampling band, from crown
10Of some tall cliff, the deer look'd down;
On wing of jet, from his repose
In the deep heath, the black-cock rose;
Sprung from the gorse the timid roe,
Nor waited for the bending bow;
15And when the stony path began,
By which the naked peak they wan,
Up flew the snowy ptarmigan.
The noon had long been pass'd before
They gain'd the height of Lammermoor;
20Thence winding down the northern way,
Before them, at the close of day,
Old Gifford's towers and hamlet lay.
The livelong day Lord Marmion rode:
The mountain path the Palmer show'd
By glen and streamlet winded still,
Where stunted birches hid the rill.
5They might not choose the lowland road,
For the Merse forayers were abroad,
Who, fired with hate and thirst of prey,
Had scarcely fail'd to bar their way.
Oft on the trampling band, from crown
10Of some tall cliff, the deer look'd down;
On wing of jet, from his repose
In the deep heath, the black-cock rose;
Sprung from the gorse the timid roe,
Nor waited for the bending bow;
15And when the stony path began,
By which the naked peak they wan,
Up flew the snowy ptarmigan.
The noon had long been pass'd before
They gain'd the height of Lammermoor;
20Thence winding down the northern way,
Before them, at the close of day,
Old Gifford's towers and hamlet lay.
II.
No summons calls them to the tower,
To spend the hospitable hour.
25To Scotland's camp the Lord was gone;
His cautious dame, in bower alone,
No summons calls them to the tower,
To spend the hospitable hour.
25To Scotland's camp the Lord was gone;
His cautious dame, in bower alone,
