Unaltered and collected stood,

And thus replied, in dauntless mood:

XXVI.

"Say to your Lords of high emprize,

Who war on women and on boys,

That either William of Deloraine

Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain,

Or else he will the combat take

'Gainst Musgrave, for his honour's sake.

No knight in Cumberland so good,

But William may count with him kin and blood. Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword,

When English blood swelled Ancram ford;

And but that Lord Dacre's steed was wight,

And bare him ably in the flight,

Himself had seen him dubbed a knight.
For the young heir of Branksome's line,

God be his aid, and God be mine;

Through me no friend shall meet his doom;

Here, while I live, no foe finds room.

Then, if thy Lords their purpose urge,

Take our defiance loud and high:

Our slogan is their lyke-wake* dirge,

Our moat, the grave where they shall lie."

XXVII.

Proud she looked round, applause to claim

Then lightened Thirlestane's eye of flame,
His bugle Watt of Harden blew;
Pensils and pennons wide were flung,
To heaven the Border slogan rung,

"St Mary for the young Buccleuch !"

The English war-cry answered wide,

*

And forward bent each southern spear; Each Kendal archer made a stride,

Lyke-wake, the watching a corpse previous to interment.,

And drew the bow-string to his ear;

Each minstrel's war-note loud was blown;—

But, ere a grey-goose shaft had flown,

A horseman galloped from the rear.

XXVIII.

"Ah! noble Lords !" he, breathless, said, "What treason has your march betrayed?

What make you here, from aid so far,
Before you walls, around you war?

Your foemen triumph in the thought,

That in the toils the lion's caught.
Already on dark Ruberslaw

The Douglas holds his weapon-schaw ;*

The lances, waving in his train,

Clothe the dun heath like autumn grain;

And on the Liddle's northern strand,

To bar retreat to Cumberland,

Weapon-schaw, the military array of a county.

Lord Maxwell ranks his merry-men good,

Beneath the eagle and the rood;

And Jedwood, Eske, and Teviotdale,

Have to proud Angus come;

And all the Merse and Lauderdale

Have risen with haughty Home.

An exile from Northumberland,

In Liddesdale I've wandered long; But still my heart was with merry England,

And cannot brook my country's wrong;

And hard I've spurred all night, to shew
The mustering of the coming foe."-

XXIX.

"And let them come!" fierce Dacre cried ;.

"For soon yon crest, my father's pride,

That swept the shores of Judah's sea,

And waved in gales of Galilee,

From Branksome's highest towers displayed,

Shall mock the rescue's lingering aid!

Level each harquebuss on row;

Draw, merry archers, draw the bow;

Up, bill-men, to the walls, and cry,

Dacre for England, win or die !”

XXX.

"Yet hear," quoth Howard, " calmly hear,

Nor deem my words the words of fear:

For who, in field or foray slack,

Saw the blanche lion e'er fall back?

But thus to risque our Border flower

In strife against a kingdom's power,

Ten thousand Scots 'gainst thousands three,

Certes, were desperate policy.

Nay, take the terms the Ladye made,

Ere conscious of the advancing aid :

Let Musgrave meet fierce Deloraine

In single fight, and if he gain,

He gains for us; but if he's crossed,

'Tis but a single warrior lost :