O’ercame the ashen hue of age;
Fierce he broke forth: “And dar’st thou then
To beard the lion in his den,
The Douglas in his hall?
And hop’st thou hence unscathed to go?
No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no!
Up drawbridge, grooms—what, warder, ho!
Let the portcullis fall.”
Lord Marmion turned—well was his need,
And [dashed the rowels] in his steed;