"'But I have solemn vows to pay
And may not linger by the way;
Saint Mary grant that cave or spring
May back to peace my bosom bring,
Or bid it throb no more!'"

Then the page, on bended knee, presented to each guest in turn the
massive silver bowl of wassail, "the midnight draught of sleep," rich
with wine and spices. Lord Marmion drank, "Sound sleep to all"; the earl
pledged his noble guest; all drained it merrily except the Palmer. He
alone refused, although Selby urged him most courteously. The feast was
over, the sound of minstrel hushed. Nought was heard in the castle but
the slow footsteps of the guard.

At dawn the chapel doors unclosed, and after a hasty mass from Friar
John, a rich repast was served to knight and squire.

"Lord Marmion's bugles blew to horse:
Then came the stirrup-cup in course;
Between the Baron and his host
No point of courtesy was lost;
Till, filing from the gate, had passed
That noble train, their Lord the last.
Then loudly rang the trumpet call;
Thundered the cannon from the wall,
And shook the Scottish shore;
Around the castle eddied slow,
Volumes of smoke as white as snow,
And hid its turrets hoar;