Yet secure from harm you shall be,
None need fear before I die.

That my sufferings may be shortened,
Ask of Him who rules on high."

Then unto his forge he straightway
Walked erect, with rapid step,
While the people followed after,

Some with shouts, while others wept;

And with nerve as steady as when

He had plied his trade for gain,

He selected, without faltering,

From his store, the heaviest chain.

To his anvil first he bound it,

Next his limb he shackled fast,
Then he said unto his townsfolk,
"All your danger now is past.
Place within my reach, I pray you,
Food and water for a time,
Until God shall ease my sufferings
By his gracious will divine."

Long he suffered, but at last

Came a summons from on high, Then his soul, with angel escort, Sought its home beyond the sky; And the people of that village,

Those whom he had died to save, Still with grateful hearts assemble,

And with flowers bedeck his grave.

MARMION AND DOUGLAS.

OT far advanced was morning day,
When Marmion did his troop array
To Surrey's camp to ride.
He had safe-conduct for his band,
Beneath the royal seal and hand,
And Douglas gave a guide.
The ancient earl, with stately grace,

Would Clara on her palfrey place,

And whispered in an undertone,

"Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown."

The train from out the castle drew,

But Marmion stopped to bid adieu:

"Though something I might 'plain," he said,

"Of cold respect to stranger guest,

Sent hither by your king's behest,

While in Tantallon's towers I stayed,
Part we in friendship from your land,
And, noble earl, receive my hand."
But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:
"My manors, halls, and bowers shall still

Be open, at my sovereign's will,

To each one whom he lists, howe'er

Unmeet to be the owner's peer;

My castles are my king's alone,
From turret to foundation-stone,
The hand of Douglas is his own,
And never shall in friendly grasp

The hand of such as Marmion clasp."

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frame for ire,

And-"This to me!" he said;
"An'twere not for thy hoary beard,
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared
To cleave the Douglas' head!
And first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
He who does England's message here,
Although the meanest in her state,
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate!
And Douglas, more, I tell thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride,
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near,
(Nay, never look upon your lord,

And lay your hands upon your sword,)

I tell thee, thou'rt defied!

And if thou saidst I am not peer

To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,

Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"

On the earl's cheek the flush of rage

O'ercame the ashen hue of age:

Fierce he broke forth, "And dar'st thou then

To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?