This Banner raised with joyful pride,1
This hope of all posterity,
By those dread symbols sanctified; 2
Thus to become at once the scorn
Of babbling winds as they go by,
A spot of shame to the sun's bright eye,
To the light clouds a mockery! 3
-"Even these poor eight of mine would stem
Half to himself, and half to them
He spake" would stem, or quell, a force
Ten times their number, man and horse;
This by their own unaided might,
Without their father in their sight,
Without the Cause for which they fight;
A Cause, which on a needful day
Would breed us thousands brave as they."
-So speaking, he his reverend head
Raised towards that Imagery once more:
But the familiar prospect shed
Despondency unfelt before:
A shock of intimations vain,
Dismay, and superstitious pain,
Fell on him, with the sudden thought
Of her by whom the work was wrought-
Oh wherefore was her countenance bright
With love divine and gentle light?
She would not, could not, disobey,1
But her Faith leaned another way.
Ill tears she wept; I saw them fall,
I overheard her as she spake
Sad words to that mute Animal,
The White Doe, in the hawthorn brake;
She steeped, but not for Jesu's sake,
This Cross in tears; by her, and One
Unworthier far we are undone
Her recreant Brother-he prevailed
Over that tender Spirit-assailed
Too oft, alas! by her whose head
In the cold grave hath long been laid:
She first in reason's dawn beguiled
Her docile unsuspecting Child :3
Far back-far back my mind must go,
To reach the well-spring of this woe!
While thus he brooded, music sweet
Of border tunes was played to cheer
The footsteps of a quick retreat;
But Norton lingered in the rear,
Stung with sharp thoughts; and ere the last
From his distracted brain was cast,
Before his Father, Francis stood,
And spake in firm and earnest mood.1
Though here I bend a suppliant knee
In reverence, and unarmed, I bear
In your indignant thoughts my share;
Am grieved this backward march to see
So careless and disorderly.
I scorn your Chiefs-men who would lead,
And yet want courage at their need:
Then look at them with open eyes!
Deserve they further sacrifice ?—
If when they shrink, nor dare oppose
In open field their gathering foes,
(And fast, from this decisive day,
Yon multitude must melt away;)
If now I ask a grace not claimed
While ground was left for hope; unblamed
Be an endeavour that can do
No injury to them or you.2
While thus he brooded, music sweet
Was played to cheer them in retreat;
But Norton lingered in the rear:
Thought followed thought-and ere the last
Of that unhappy train was past,
Before him Francis did appear.
"Now when 'tis not your aim to oppose,"
Said he, "in open field your Foes;
Now that from this decisive day
Your multitude must melt away,
An unarmed Man may come unblamed;
To ask a grace, that was not claimed
Long as your hopes were high, he now
May hither bring a fearless brow;
When his discountenance can do
My Father! I would help to find
A place of shelter, till the rage
Of cruel men do like the wind
Exhaust itself and sink to rest :
Be Brother now to Brother joined !
Admit me in the equipage
Of your misfortunes, that at least,
Whatever fate remain behind,
I may bear witness in my breast
To your nobility of mind!"
"Thou enemy, my bane and blight!
Oh! bold to fight the Coward's fight
Against all good"—but why declare,
At length, the issue of a prayer
Which love had prompted, yielding scope.
Too free to one bright moment's hope ?1
Suffice it that the Son, who strove
With fruitless effort to allay
That passion, prudently gave way;2
Nor did he turn aside to prove
His Brothers' wisdom or their love-
But calmly from the spot withdrew;
His best endeavours to renew,
Should e'er a kindlier time ensue.
'Tis night in silence looking down,
The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees 2
A Camp, and a beleaguered Town,
And Castle, like a stately crown
On the steep rocks of winding Tees;-
And southward far, with moor between,
Hill-top, and flood, and forest green, 3
The bright Moon sees that valley small
Where Rylstone's old sequestered Hall
A venerable image yields
Of quiet to the neighbouring fields;
While from one pillared chimney breathes
The smoke, and mounts in silver wreaths,4
-The courts are hushed;-for timely sleep
The greyhounds to their kennel creep;
The peacock in the broad ash tree
|