But within the Council Chamber All was silent as the grave, Whilst the tempest of their sorrow Shook the bosoms of the brave. Well indeed might they be shaken With the weight of such a blow: He was gone--their prince, their idol, Whom they loved and worshipped so! Like a knell of death and judgment Rung from heaven by angel hand, Fell the words of desolation On the elders of the land. Hoary heads were bowed and trembling, Withered hands were clasped and wrung: God had left the old and feeble, He had ta'en away the young. X. Then the Provost he uprose, And his lip was ashen white, But a flush was on his brow, And his eye was full of light. "Thou hast spoken, Randolph Murray, Like a soldier stout and true; Thou hast done a deed of daring Had been perilled but by few. For thou hast not shamed to face us, Nor to speak thy ghastly tale, Standing--thou, a knight and captain-- Here, alive within thy mail! Now, as my God shall judge me, I hold it braver done, Than hadst thou tarried in thy place, And died above my son! Thou needst not tell it: he is dead. God help us all this day! But speak--how fought the citizens Within the furious fray? For, by the might of Mary, 'T were something still to tell That no Scottish foot went backward When the Royal Lion fell!" XI. "No one failed him! He is keeping Royal state and semblance still; Knight and noble lie around him, Cold on Flodden's fatal hill. Of the brave and gallant-hearted, Whom ye sent with prayers away, Not a single man departed From his monarch yesterday. Had you seen them, O my masters! When the night began to fall, And the English spearmen gathered Round a grim and ghastly wall! As the wolves in winter circle Round the leaguer on the heath, So the greedy foe glared upward, Panting still for blood and death. But a rampart rose before them, Which the boldest dared not scale; Every stone a Scottish body, Every step a corpse in mail! And behind it lay our monarch Clenching still his shivered sword: By his side Montrose and Athole, At his feet a southern lord. All so thick they lay together, When the stars lit up the sky, That I knew not who were stricken, Or who yet remained to die, Few there were when Surrey halted, And his wearied host withdrew; None but dying men around me, When the English trumpet blew. Then I stooped, and took the banner, As ye see it, from his breast, And I closed our hero's eyelids, And I left him to his rest. In the mountains growled the thunder, As I leaped the woeful wall, And the heavy clouds were settling Over Flodden, like a pall." XII.