VIL

Old Holy-Rood rung merrily,
That night, with wassell, mirth, and glee: 
King James within her princely bower
Feasted the Chiefs of Scotland’s power,
Summon’d to spend the parting hour; 175
For he had charged, that his array
Should southward march by break of day. 
Well loved that splendid monarch aye
  The banquet and the song,
By day the tourney, and by night 180
The merry dance, traced fast and light,
The maskers quaint, the pageant bright,
  The revel loud and long. 
This feast outshone his banquets past;
It was his blithest,—­and his last. 185
The dazzling lamps, from gallery gay,
Cast on the Court a dancing ray;
Here to the harp did minstrels sing;
There ladies touched a softer string;
With long-ear’d cap, and motley vest, 190
The licensed fool retail’d his jest;
His magic tricks the juggler plied;
At dice and draughts the gallants vied;
While some, in close recess apart,
Courted the ladies of their heart, 195
  Nor courted them in vain;
For often, in the parting hour,
Victorious Love asserts his power
  O’er coldness and disdain;
And flinty is her heart, can view 200
To battle march a lover true—­
Can hear, perchance, his last adieu,
  Nor own her share of pain.

VIII.

Through this mix’d crowd of glee and game,
The King to greet Lord Marmion came, 205
  While, reverent, all made room. 
An easy task it was, I trow,
King James’s manly form to know,
Although, his courtesy to show,
He doff’d, to Marmion bending low, 210
  His broider’d cap and plume. 
For royal was his garb and mien,
  His cloak, of crimson velvet piled,
  Trimm’d with the fur of marten wild;
His vest of changeful satin sheen, 215
  The dazzled eye beguiled;
His gorgeous collar hung adown,
Wrought with the badge of Scotland’s crown,
The thistle brave, of old renown: 
His trusty blade, Toledo right, 220
Descended from a baldric bright;
White were his buskins, on the heel
His spurs inlaid of gold and steel;
His bonnet, all of crimson fair,
Was button’d with a ruby rare:  225
And Marmion deem’d he ne’er had seen
A prince of such a noble mien.

IX.

The Monarch’s form was middle size;
For feat of strength, or exercise,
  Shaped in proportion fair; 230
And hazel was his eagle eye,
And auburn of the darkest dye,
  His short curl’d beard and hair. 
Light was his footstep in the dance,