MARMION. CANTO SECOND. The Convent. I. THE breeze, which swept away the smoke, Round Norham Castle roll'd, When all the loud artillery spoke, With lightning-flash, and thunder-stroke, As Marmion left the Hold. It curl'd not Tweed alone, that breeze, For, far upon Northumbrian seas, It freshly blew, and strong, Where, from high Whitby's cloister'd pile, Bound to Saint Cuthbert's Holy Isle, It bore a bark along. Upon the gale she stoop'd her side, And bounded o'er the swelling tide, As she were dancing home; The merry seamen laugh'd, to see Their gallant ship so lustily Much joy'd they in their honour'd freight; For, on the deck, in chair of state, The Abbess of Saint Hilda placed, With five fair nuns, the galley graced. II. 'Twas sweet to see these holy maids, Like birds escaped to green-wood shades, Their first flight from the cage, How timid and how curious too, For all to them was strange and new, And all the common sights they view, Their wonderment engage. One eyed the shrouds and swelling sail, With many a benedicite; One at the rippling surge grew pale, And would for terror pray; Then shriek'd, because the sea-dog, nigh, His round black head, and sparkling eye, Rear'd o'er the foaming spray ; And one would still adjust her veil, Disorder'd by the summer gale, Perchance lest some more worldly eye Save two, who ill might pleasure share,— The Abbess, and the Novice Clare. |