the rude barriers of the lake,
Away its hurrying waters break, 245
Faster and whiter dash and curl,
Till down yon dark abyss they hurl.
Rises the fog-smoke white as snow,
Thunders the viewless stream below,
Diving, as if condemn’d to lave 250
Some demon’s subterranean cave,
Who, prison’d by enchanter’s spell,
Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell.
And well that Palmer’s form and mien
Had suited with the stormy scene, 255
Just on the edge, straining his ken
To view the bottom of the den,
Where, deep deep down, and far within,
Toils with the rocks the roaring linn;
Then, issuing forth one foamy wave, 260
And wheeling round the Giant’s Grave,
White as the snowy charger’s tail,
Drives down the pass of Moffatdale.

Marriott, thy harp, on Isis strung,
To many a Border theme has rung: 265
Then list to me, and thou shalt know
Of this mysterious Man of Woe.


CANTO SECOND.

THE CONVENT.

1.

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,- 5
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, 10
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 15
Their gallant ship so lustily
Furrow the green sea-foam.
Much joy’d they in their honour’d freight;
For, on the deck