From the body pass away;-
Hark! the mass is singing.
From thee doff thy mortal weed,
Mary Mother be thy speed,
Saints to help thee at thy need;-
Hark! the knell is ringing.
Fear not snow-drift driving fast,
Sleet, or hail, or levin blast;
Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast,
And the sleep be on thee cast
That shall ne’er know waking.
Haste thee, haste thee, to be gone,
Earth flits fast, and time draws on,-
Gasp thy gasp, and groan thy groan,
Day is near the breaking.
But ne’er shall you find, should you search till you tire,So happy a man as the Barefooted Friar.Your knight for his lady pricks forth in career,And is brought home at even-song bunny’d through with a spear;I confess him in haste – for his lady desiresNo comfort on earth save the Barefooted Friar’s.Your monarch? – Pshaw!…
The northern realms of ancient Caledon,Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placed,By lake and cataract, her lonely throne;Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known,Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high,Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrownMingle their echoes with the eagle’s cry,And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky.Yes! ’twas…
The first notes of the merry lark.The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew,And loudly Marmion’s bugles blew,And with their light and lively call,Brought groom and yeoman to the stall.Whistling they came, and free of heart,But soon their mood was changed;Complaint was heard on every part,Of something disarranged.Some clamoured loud for armour lost;Some brawled and…
Old men’s love the longest will last,And the throstle-cock’s head is under his wing.The young man’s wrath is like light straw on fire;Heard ye so merry the little bird sing?But like red-hot steel is the old man’s ire,And the throstle-cock’s head is under his wing.The young man will brawl at the evening board;Heard ye so…
Without stop or stay, down the rocky way,That leads to Brotherstone.He went not with the bold Buccleuch,His banner broad to rear;He went not ‘gainst the English yew,To lift the Scottish spear.Yet his plate-jack was braced, and his helmet was laced,And his vaunt-brace of proof he wore;At his saddle-gerthe was a good steel sperthe,Full ten pound…
Full proudly may thy branches wave,Where loyalty lies low in death,And valour fills a timeless grave.And thou, brave tenant of the tomb!Repine not if our clime deny,Above thine honoured sod to bloom,The flowerets of a milder sky.These owe their birth to genial May;Beneath a fiercer sun they pine,Before the winter storm decay-And can their worth…
