Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/99

 Thus whispered forth his mind:—
'Saint Mary! saw'st thou e'er such sight?
100How pale his cheek, his eye how bright,
Whene'er the firebrand's fickle light
 Glances beneath his cowl!
Full on our Lord he sets his eye;
For his best palfrey, would not I
105 Endure that sullen scowl.'

VII.
But Marmion, as to chase the awe
Which thus had quell'd their hearts, who saw
The ever-varying fire-light show
That figure stern and face of woe,
110 Now call'd upon a squire:—
'Fitz-Eustace, know'st thou not some lay,
To speed the lingering night away?
 We slumber by the fire.'—

VIII.
'So please you,' thus the youth rejoin'd,
115'Our choicest minstrel's left behind.
Ill may we hope to please your ear,
Accustom'd Constant's strains to hear.
The harp full deftly can he strike,
And wake the lover's lute alike;
120To dear Saint Valentine, no thrush
Sings livelier from a spring-tide bush,
No nightingale her love-lorn tune
More sweetly warbles to the moon.
Woe to the cause, whate'er it be,
125Detains from us his melody,
Lavish'd on rocks, and billows stern,
Or duller monks of Lindisfarne.
Now must I venture as I may,
To sing his favourite roundelay.'

IX.
130A mellow voice Fitz-Eustace had,
The air he chose was wild and sad;