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When for the lists they sought the plain,
Did noble Howard hold;
Of feats of arms of old.
With satin slashed, and lined;
Behind Lord Howard and the Dame,
Whose foot-cloth swept the ground White was her wimple, and her veil, And her loose locks a chaplet pale
Of whitest roses bound; The lordly Angus, by her side, In courtesy to cheer her tried; Without his aid, her hand in vain Had strove to guide her broidered rein. He deemed, she shuddered at the sight Of warriors met for mortal fight; But cause of terror, all unguessed, Was fluttering in her gentle breast, When, in their chairs of crimson placed, The Dame and she the barriers graced.
Prize of the field, the young Buccleuch, An English knight led forth to view; Scarce rued the boy his present plight, So much he longed to see the fight.
Within the lists, in knightly pride,
That none, while lasts the strife,
On peril of his life; And not a breath the silence broke, Till thus the alternate Heralds spoke :—
Here standeth Richard of Musgrave,
Amends from Deloraine to crave,
He sayeth, that William of Deloraine
This with his sword he will maintain,
Here standeth William of Deloraine,
Forward, brave champions, to the fight! Sound trumpets!
« God defend the right I"
Then, Teviot! how thine echoes rang,
Let loose the martial foes,
The combatants did close.
LI would it suit your gentle ear,
Ye lovely listeners, to hear
How to the axe the helms did sound,
And blood poured down from many a wound;
For desperate was the strife and long,
And either warrior fierce and strong.
But, were each dame a listening knight,
I well could tell how warriors fight;
For I have seen war's lightning flashing,
Seen the claymore with bayonet clashing,
Seen through red blood the war-horse dashing,
And scorned, amid the reeling strife,
To yield a step for death or life.