nd stooped, and rose again.

"Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew
With wavering flight, while fiercer grew
Around the battle-yell.
The Border slogan rent the sky!
A Home! a Gordon! was the cry:
Loud were the clanging blows;
Advanced--forced back--now low, now high,
The pennon sunk and rose;
As bends the barque's mast in the gale,
When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail,
It waver'd 'mid the foes.
No longer Blount the view could bear:
'By heaven and all its saints! I swear,
I will not see it lost;
Fitz-Eustace, you with Lady Clare
May bid your beads, and patter prayer,--
I gallop to the host.'"

To the fray he rode, followed by the archers. At the next moment, fleet
as the wind, Marmion's steed riderless flew by, the housings and saddle
dyed crimson. Eustace mounted and plunged into the fight, resolved to
rescue the body of his fallen lord.

Alone, in that dreadful hour, a courage not her own armed the gentle
girl with strength to play a noble part. She was thinking only of De
Wilton, when two horsemen drenched with human gore, rode up, bearing a
wounded knight, his shield bent, his helmet gone. He yet bore in his
hand a broken brand. Could this be Marmion? Blount unlaced the armor;
Eustace removed the casque; revived by the free air, Marmion cried:

"Fitz-Eustace, Blount,

"'Redeem my pennon,--charge again!
Cry,--"Marmion to the rescue!"
'Must I bid twice?--hence, varlets! fly!
Leave Marmion here alone,--to die.'
They parted, and alone he lay;
Clare drew her from the sight away,
Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan,
And half he murmur'd--'Is there none,
Of all my halls have nursed,
Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring
Of blessed water from the spring,
To slake my dying thirst!'"

"O Woman! in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!
Scarce were the piteous accents said,
When, with the baron's casque, the maid
To the nigh streamlet ran:
Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears;
The plaintive voice alone she hears,
Sees but the dying man."

She stooped by the side of the rill, but drew back in horror,--it ran
red with t