Once, too, it held Northumbria’s king
In days of former fame:
But now no courteous tenants boasts—
And Sewen Shields[54] its name.
And there, too, superstition’s spell
Had cast its gloom around:
And none for years had ever been
Within its precincts found—
Till Dixon,[55] young advent’rous swain,
Who fear’d no mortal arm,