POET BR Y. 1037 
And lifted his barred aventayle,* 
To hail the monk of St Mary’s <‘sle. 
IV. 
«6 The ladye of Branksome greets thee by me ; 
Says, that the fated hour is come, 
And that to-night I shall watch with thee, 
To win the treasure of the tomb.”— 
From sackcloth couch the monk arose, 
With toil his stiffened limbs he reared ; 
A hundred years had flung their snows 
On his thin lock and floatingbeard. 
V. 
And strangely on the knight looked he, 
And his blue eyes gleamed wild and wide ; 
‘¢ And, dar’st thou, warrior! seek to see 
What heaven and hell alike would hide ? 
My breast, in belt of iron pent, 
With shirt of hair and scourge of thorn ; 
For threescore years, in penance spent, 
My knees those flinty stones have worn ; 
Yet all too little to atone 
For knowing what should ne’er be known : 
Would’st thou thy every future year 
In ceaseless prayer and penance drie, 
Yet wait thy latter end with fear— 
Then, daring warrior, follow me !”— 
VI. 
‘¢ Penance, father, will I none ; 
Prayer know I hardly one ; 
For mass or prayer can ] rarely tarry, 
Save to patter an Ave Mary, 
When I ride on a Border foray ; 
Other prayer can I none ; 
So speed me my errand, and let me-begone.”-— 
Vil. y 
Again on the knight looked the churchman old, 
And again he sighed heavily ; 
For he had himself been a warrior bold, 
And fought in Spain and Italy, 
And he thought on the days that were long since by, 
When hislimbs were strong,and his courage was high: — 
* Aventayle, visor of the helmet. 
, N 
ow, 
