Till, broad and fierce, the star came forth on Ely’s stately fane,
And tower and hamlet rose in arms, o’er all the boundless plain;
Till Belvoir’s lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln sent,
And Lincoln sped the message on, o’er the wild vale of Trent;
Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned on Gaunt’s embattled pile,
And the red glare on Skiddaw roused the burghers of Carlisle;
(End of Lord Macaulay.)
Till, from the peaks of Cheviot, the wonder-telling flames
Passed on the news from Berwick bounds to subjects of King James.
O well it was for Englishmen that, as the tidings spread,