To London were the Chieftains bent; 190
But what avails the bold intent?
A Royal army is gone forth
To quell the Rising of the North;
They march with Dudley at their head,
And, in seven days' space, will to York be led!—
Can such a mighty Host be raised 196
Thus suddenly, and brought so near?
The Earls upon each other gazed,
And Neville's cheek grew pale with fear;
For, with a high and valiant name, 200
He bore a heart of timid frame;[79]
And bold if both had been, yet they
"Against so many may not stay."[FF]
Back therefore will they hie to seize[80]
A strong Hold on the banks of Tees; 205
There wait a favourable hour,
Until Lord Dacre with his power
From Naworth come;[81][GG] and Howard's aid
Be with them openly displayed.
While through the Host, from man to man, 210
A rumour of this purpose ran,
The Standard trusting[82] to the care
Of him who heretofore did bear
That charge, impatient Norton sought
The Chieftains to unfold his thought, 215
And thus abruptly spake;—"We yield
(And can it be?) an unfought field!—
How oft has strength, the strength of heaven,[83]
To few triumphantly been given!
Still do our very children boast 220
Of mitred Thurston—what a Host
He conquered![HH]—Saw we not the Plain
(And flying shall behold again)
Where faith was proved?—while to battle moved
The Standard, on the Sacred Wain 225
That bore it, compassed round by a bold
Fraternity of Barons old;
And with those grey-haired champions stood,
Under the saintly ensigns three,
The infant Heir of Mowbray's blood— 230
All confident of victory!—[84]
Shall Percy blush, then, for his name?
Must Westmoreland be asked with shame
Whose were the numbers, where the loss,
In that other day of Neville's Cross?[II] 235
When the Prior of Durham with holy hand
Raised, as the Vision gave command,
Saint Cuthbert's Relic—far and near
Kenned on the point of a lofty spear;
While the Monks prayed in Maiden's Bower 240
To God descending in his power.[85]
Less would not at our need be due
To us, who war against the Untrue;—
The delegates of Heaven we rise,
Convoked the impious to chastise: 245
We, we, the sanctities of old
Would re-establish and uphold:
Be warned"—His zeal the Chiefs confounded,[86]
But word was given, and the trumpet sounded:
Back through the melancholy Host 250
Went Norton, and resumed his post.
Alas! thought he, and have I borne
This Banner raised with joyful pride,[87]
This hope of all posterity,
By those dread symbols sanctified;[88] 255
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[89] clouds a mockery!
—"Even these poor eight of mine would stem"—
Half to himself, and half to them 261
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, 265
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:[90] 270
But the familiar prospect shed
Despondency unfelt before:
A shock of intimations vain,
Dismay,[91] and superstitious pain,
Fell on him, with the sudden thought 275
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,[92]
But her Faith leaned another way. 280
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, 285
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[93] 290
In the cold grave hath long been laid:
She first, in reason's dawn beguiled
Her docile, unsuspecting Child:[94]
Far back—far back my mind must go
To reach the well-spring of this woe! 295
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 300
From his distracted brain was cast,
Before his Father, Francis stood,
And spake in firm and earnest mood.[95]
"Though here I bend a suppliant knee
In reverence, and unarmed, I bear 305
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: 310
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, 315
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.[96] 320
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! 325
Admit me in the equipage
Of your misfortunes, that at least,
Whatever fate remain[97] behind,
I may bear witness in my breast
To your nobility of mind!" 330
"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 335
Too free to one bright moment's hope?[98]
Suffice it that the Son, who strove
With fruitless effort to allay
That passion, prudently gave way;[99]
Nor did he turn aside to prove 340
His Brothers' wisdom or their love—
But calmly from the spot withdrew;
His best endeavours[100] to renew,
Should e'er a kindlier time ensue.
CANTO FOURTH
'Tis night: in silence looking down,
The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees[101]
A Camp, and a beleaguered Town,
And Castle like a stately crown
On the steep rocks of winding Tees;— 5
And southward far, with moor between,
Hill-top, and flood, and forest green,[102]
The bright Moon sees that valley small
Where Rylstone's old sequestered Hall
A venerable image yields 10
Of quiet to the neighbouring fields;
While from one pillared chimney breathes
The smoke, and mounts in silver wreaths.[103]
—The courts are hushed;—for timely sleep
The grey-hounds to their kennel creep; 15
The peacock in the broad ash tree
Aloft is roosted for the night,
He who in proud prosperity
Of colours manifold and bright
Walked round, affronting the daylight; 20
And higher still, above the bower
Where he is perched, from yon lone Tower
The hall-clock in the clear moonshine
With glittering finger points at nine.
Ah! who could think that sadness here 25
Hath[104] any sway? or pain, or fear?
A soft and lulling sound is heard
Of streams inaudible by day;[JJ]
The garden pool's dark surface, stirred
By the night insects in their play, 30
Breaks into dimples small and bright;
A thousand, thousand rings of light
That shape themselves and disappear
Almost as soon as seen:—and lo!
Not distant far, the milk-white Doe— 35
The same who quietly was feeding
On the green herb, and nothing heeding,
When Francis, uttering to the Maid[105]
His last words in the yew-tree shade,
Involved whate'er by love was brought 40
Out of his heart, or crossed his thought,
Or chance presented to his eye,
In one sad sweep of destiny—[106]
The same fair Creature, who hath found
Her way into forbidden ground; 45
Where now—within this spacious plot
For pleasure made, a goodly spot,
With lawns and beds of flowers, and shades
Of trellis-work in long arcades,
And cirque and crescent framed by wall 50
Of close-clipt foliage green and tall,
Converging walks, and fountains gay,
And terraces in trim array—
Beneath yon cypress spiring high,
With pine and cedar spreading wide 55
Their darksome boughs on either side,
In open moonlight doth she lie;
Happy as others of her kind,
That, far from human neighbourhood,
Range unrestricted as the wind, 60
Through park, or chase, or savage wood.
But see the consecrated Maid
Emerging from a cedar shade[107]
To open moonshine, where the Doe
Beneath the cypress-spire is laid; 65
Like a patch of April snow—
Upon a bed of herbage green,
Lingering in a woody glade
Or behind a rocky screen—
Lonely relic! which, if seen 70
By the shepherd, is passed by
With an inattentive eye.
Nor more regard doth She bestow
Upon the uncomplaining Doe[108]
Now couched at ease, though oft this day 75
Not unperplexed nor free from pain,
When she had tried, and tried in vain,
Approaching in her gentle way,
To win some look of love, or gain
Encouragement to sport or play; 80
Attempts which still the heart-sick Maid
Rejected, or with slight repaid.[109]