Of trial past without offence
To God or man; such innocence,
Such consolation, and the excess
Of an unmerited distress;
In that thy very strength must lie. 190
--O Sister, I could prophesy!
The time is come that rings the knell
Of all we loved, and loved so well:
Hope nothing, if I thus may speak
To thee, a woman, and thence weak: 195
Hope nothing, I repeat; for we
Are doomed to perish utterly:
'Tis meet that thou with me divide
The thought while I am by thy side,
Acknowledging a grace in this, 200
A comfort in the dark abyss.
But look not for me when I am gone,
And be no farther wrought upon:
Farewell all wishes, all debate,
All prayers for this cause, or for that! 205
Weep, if that aid thee; but depend
Upon no help of outward friend;
Espouse thy doom at once, and cleave
To fortitude without reprieve.
For we must fall, both we and ours-- 210
This Mansion and these pleasant bowers,
Walks, pools, and arbours, homestead, hall--
Our fate is theirs, will reach them all;[Z]
The young horse must forsake his manger,
And learn to glory in a Stranger; 215
The hawk forget his perch; the hound
Be parted from his ancient ground:
The blast will sweep us all away--
One desolation, one decay!
And even this Creature!" which words saying, 220
He pointed to a lovely Doe,
A few steps distant, feeding, straying;
Fair creature, and more white than snow!
"Even she will to her peaceful woods
Return, and to her murmuring floods, 225
And be in heart and soul the same
She was before she hither came;
Ere she had learned to love us all,
Herself beloved in Rylstone-hall.
--But thou, my Sister, doomed to be 230
The last leaf on a blasted tree;[55]
If not in vain we breathed[56] the breath
Together of a purer faith;
If hand in hand we have been led,
And thou, (O happy thought this day!) 235
Not seldom foremost in the way;
If on one thought our minds have fed,
And we have in one meaning read;
If, when at home our private weal
Hath suffered from the shock of zeal, 240
Together we have learned to prize
Forbearance and self-sacrifice;
If we like combatants have fared,
And for this issue been prepared;
If thou art beautiful, and youth 245
And thought endue thee with all truth--
Be strong;--be worthy of the grace
Of God, and fill thy destined place:
A Soul, by force of sorrows high,
Uplifted to the purest sky 250
Of undisturbed humanity!"
He ended,--or she heard no more;
He led her from the yew-tree shade,
And at the mansion's silent door,
He kissed the consecrated Maid; 255
And down the valley then pursued,[57]
Alone, the armed Multitude.
CANTO THIRD
Now joy for you who from the towers
Of Brancepeth look in doubt and fear,[AA][58]
Telling melancholy hours!
Proclaim it, let your Masters hear
That Norton with his band is near! 5
The watchmen from their station high
Pronounced the word,--and the Earls descry,
Well-pleased, the armed Company[59]
Marching down the banks of Were.
Said fearless Norton to the pair 10
Gone forth to greet[60] him on the plain
"This meeting, noble Lords! looks fair,
I bring with me a goodly train;
Their hearts are with you: hill and dale
Have helped us: Ure we crossed, and Swale, 15
And horse and harness followed--see
The best part of their Yeomanry!
--Stand forth, my Sons!--these eight are mine,
Whom to this service I commend;
Which way soe'er our fate incline, 20
These will be faithful to the end;
They are my all"--voice failed him here--
"My all save one, a Daughter dear!
Whom I have left, Love's mildest birth,[61]
The meekest Child on this blessed earth. 25
I had--but these are by my side,
These Eight, and this is a day of pride!
The time is ripe. With festive din
Lo! how the people are flocking in,--
Like hungry fowl to the feeder's hand 30
When snow lies heavy upon the land."
He spake bare truth; for far and near
From every side came noisy swarms
Of Peasants in their homely gear;
And, mixed with these, to Brancepeth came 35
Grave Gentry of estate and name,
And Captains known for worth in arms;
And prayed the Earls in self-defence
To rise, and prove their innocence.--
"Rise, noble Earls, put forth your might 40
For holy Church, and the People's right!"
The Norton fixed, at this demand,
His eye upon Northumberland,
And said; "The Minds of Men will own
No loyal rest while England's Crown 45
Remains without an Heir, the bait
Of strife and factions desperate;
Who, paying deadly hate in kind
Through all things else, in this can find
A mutual hope, a common mind; 50
And plot, and pant to overwhelm
All ancient honour in the realm.
--Brave Earls! to whose heroic veins
Our noblest blood is given in trust,
To you a suffering State complains, 55
And ye must raise her from the dust.
With wishes of still bolder scope
On you we look, with dearest hope;
Even for our Altars--for the prize
In Heaven, of life that never dies; 60
For the old and holy Church we mourn,
And must in joy to her return.
Behold!"--and from his Son whose stand
Was on his right, from that guardian hand
He took the Banner, and unfurled 65
The precious folds--"behold," said he,
"The ransom of a sinful world;
Let this your preservation be;
The wounds of hands and feet and side,
And the sacred Cross on which Jesus died! 70
--This bring I from an ancient hearth,
These Records wrought in pledge of love
By hands of no ignoble birth,
A Maid o'er whom the blessed Dove
Vouchsafed in gentleness to brood 75
While she the holy work pursued."
"Uplift the Standard!" was the cry
From all the listeners that stood round,
"Plant it,--by this we live or die."
The Norton ceased not for that sound, 80
But said; "The prayer which ye have heard,
Much injured Earls! by these preferred,
Is offered to the Saints, the sigh
Of tens of thousands, secretly."
"Uplift it!" cried once more the Band, 85
And then a thoughtful pause ensued:
"Uplift it!" said Northumberland--
Whereat, from all the multitude
Who saw the Banner reared on high
In all its dread emblazonry, 90
[62]A voice of uttermost joy brake out:
The transport was rolled down the river of Were,
And Durham, the time-honoured Durham, did hear,
And the towers of Saint Cuthbert were stirred by the shout![BB]
Now was the North in arms:--they shine 95
In warlike trim from Tweed to Tyne,
At Percy's voice: and Neville sees
His Followers gathering in from Tees,
From Were, and all the little rills
Concealed among the forked hills-- 100
Seven hundred Knights, Retainers all
Of Neville, at their Master's call
Had sate together in Raby Hall![CC]
Such strength that Earldom held of yore;
Nor wanted at this time rich store 105
Of well-appointed chivalry.
--Not both the sleepy lance to wield,
And greet the old paternal shield,
They heard the summons;--and, furthermore,
Horsemen and Foot of each degree,[63] 110
Unbound by pledge of fealty,
Appeared, with free and open hate
Of novelties in Church and State;
night, burgher, yeoman, and esquire;
And Romish priest,[64] in priest's attire. 115
And thus, in arms, a zealous Band
Proceeding under joint command,
To Durham first their course they bear;
And in Saint Cuthbert's ancient seat
Sang mass,--and tore the book of prayer,-- 120
And trod the bible beneath their feet.
Thence marching southward smooth and free
"They mustered their host at Wetherby,
Full sixteen thousand fair to see;"[DD]
The Choicest Warriors of the North! 125
But none for beauty and for worth[65]
Like those eight Sons--who, in a ring,[66]
(Ripe men, or blooming in life's spring)[67]
Each with a lance, erect and tall,
A falchion, and a buckler small, 130
Stood by their Sire, on Clifford-moor,[EE]
[68]To guard the Standard which he bore.
On foot they girt their Father round;
And so will keep the appointed ground
Where'er their march: no steed will he[69] 135
Henceforth bestride;--triumphantly,
He stands upon the grassy sod,[70]
Trusting himself to the earth, and God.
Rare sight to embolden and inspire!
Proud was the field of Sons and Sire; 140
Of him the most; and, sooth to say,
No shape of man in all the array
So graced the sunshine of that day.
The monumental pomp of age
Was with this goodly Personage; 145
A stature undepressed in size,
Unbent, which rather seemed to rise,
In open victory o'er the weight
Of seventy years, to loftier[71] height;
Magnific limbs of withered state; 150
A face to fear and venerate;
Eyes dark and strong; and on his head
Bright[72] locks of silver hair, thick spread,
Which a brown morion half-concealed,
Light as a hunter's of the field; 155
And thus, with girdle round his waist,
Whereon the Banner-staff might rest
At need, he stood, advancing high
The glittering, floating Pageantry.
Who sees him?--thousands see,[73] and One 160
With unparticipated gaze;
Who, 'mong those[74] thousands, friend hath none,
And treads in solitary ways.
He, following wheresoe'er he might,
Hath watched the Banner from afar, 165
As shepherds watch a lonely star,
Or mariners the distant light
That guides them through[75] a stormy night.
And now, upon a chosen plot
Of rising ground, yon heathy spot! 170
He takes alone[76] his far-off stand,
With breast unmailed, unweaponed hand.
Bold is his aspect; but his eye
Is pregnant with anxiety,
While, like a tutelary Power, 175
He there stands fixed from hour to hour:
Yet sometimes in more humble guise,
Upon the turf-clad height he lies
Stretched, herdsman-like, as if to bask
In sunshine were his only task,[77] 180
Or by his mantle's help to find
A shelter from the nipping wind:
And thus, with short oblivion blest,
His weary spirits gather rest.
Again he lifts his eyes; and lo! 185
The pageant glancing to and fro;
And hope is wakened by the sight,
He[78] thence may learn, ere fall of night,
Which way the tide is doomed to flow.
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]
Yet Emily is soothed;--the breeze
Came fraught with kindly sympathies.
As she approached yon rustic Shed[110] 85
Hung with late-flowering woodbine, spread
Along the walls and overhead,
The fragrance of the breathing flowers
Revived[111] a memory of those hours
When here, in this remote alcove, 90
(While from the pendent woodbine came
Like odours, sweet as if the same)
A fondly-anxious Mother strove
To teach her salutary fears
And mysteries above her years. 95
Yes, she is soothed: an Image faint,
And yet not faint--a presence bright
Returns to her--that blessed Saint[112]
Who with mild looks and language mild
Instructed here her darling Child, 100
While yet a prattler on the knee,
To worship in simplicity
The invisible God, and take for guide
The faith reformed and purified.
'Tis flown--the Vision, and the sense 105
Of that beguiling influence;
"But oh! thou Angel from above,
Mute Spirit[113] of maternal love,
That stood'st before my eyes, more clear
Than ghosts are fabled to appear 110
Sent upon embassies of fear;
As thou thy presence hast to me
Vouchsafed, in radiant ministry
Descend on Francis; nor forbear
To greet him with a voice, and say;-- 115
'If hope be a rejected stay,
Do thou, my Christian Son, beware
Of that most lamentable snare,
The self-reliance of despair!'"[114]
Then from within the embowered retreat 120
Where she had found a grateful seat
Perturbed she issues. She will go!
Herself will follow to the war,
And clasp her Father's knees;--ah, no!
She meets the insuperable bar, 125
The injunction by her Brother laid;
His parting charge--but ill obeyed--
That interdicted all debate,
All prayer for this cause or for that;
All efforts that would turn aside 130
The headstrong current of their fate:
_Her duty is to stand and wait_;[115][KK]
In resignation to abide
The shock, AND FINALLY SECURE
O'ER PAIN AND GRIEF A TRIUMPH PURE.[115] 135
--She feels it, and her pangs are checked.[116]
But now, as silently she paced
The turf, and thought by thought was chased,
Came One who, with sedate respect,
Approached, and, greeting her, thus spake;[117] 140
"An old man's privilege I take:
Dark is the time--a woeful day!
Dear daughter of affliction, say
How can I serve you? point the way."
"Rights have you, and may well be bold: 145
You with my Father have grown old
In friendship--strive--for his sake go--
Turn from us all the coming woe:[118]
This would I beg; but on my mind
A passive stillness is enjoined. 150
On you, if room for mortal aid
Be left, is no restriction laid;[119]
You not forbidden to recline
With hope upon the Will divine."
"Hope," said the old Man, "must abide 155
With all of us, whate'er betide.[120]
In Craven's Wilds is many a den,
To shelter persecuted men:[LL]
Far under ground is many a cave,
Where they might lie as in the grave, 160
Until this storm hath ceased to rave:
Or let them cross the River Tweed,
And be at once from peril freed!"
"Ah tempt me not!" she faintly sighed;
"I will not counsel nor exhort, 165
With my condition satisfied;
But you, at least, may make report
Of what befals;--be this your task--
This may be done;--'tis all I ask!"
She spake--and from the Lady's sight 170
The Sire, unconscious of his age,
Departed promptly as a Page
Bound on some errand of delight.
--The noble Francis--wise as brave,
Thought he, may want not skill[121] to save. 175
With hopes in tenderness concealed,
Unarmed he followed to the field;
Him will I seek: the insurgent Powers
Are now besieging Barnard's Towers,--[MM]
"Grant that the Moon which shines this night 180
May guide them in a prudent flight!"
But quick the turns of chance and change,
And knowledge has a narrow range;
Whence idle fears, and needless pain,
And wishes blind, and efforts vain.-- 185
The Moon may shine, but cannot be
Their guide in flight--already she[122]
Hath witnessed their captivity.
She saw the desperate assault
Upon that hostile castle made;-- 190
But dark and dismal is the vault
Where Norton and his sons are laid!
Disastrous issue!--he had said
"This night yon faithless[123] Towers must yield,
Or we for ever quit the field. 195
--Neville is utterly dismayed,
For promise fails of Howard's aid;
And Dacre to our call replies
That _he_[124] is unprepared to rise.
My heart is sick;--this weary pause 200
Must needs be fatal to our cause.[125]
The breach is open--on the wall,
This night,--the Banner shall be planted!"
--'Twas done: his Sons were with him--all;
They belt him round with hearts undaunted 205
And others follow;--Sire and Son
Leap down into the court;--"'Tis won"--
They shout aloud--but Heaven decreed
That with their joyful shout should close
The triumph of a desperate deed[126] 210
Which struck with terror friends and foes!
The friend shrinks back--the foe recoils
From Norton and his filial band;
But they, now caught within the toils,
Against a thousand cannot stand;-- 215
The foe from numbers courage drew,
And overpowered that gallant few.
"A rescue for the Standard!" cried
The Father from within the walls;
But, see, the sacred Standard falls!-- 220
Confusion through the Camp spread[127] wide:
Some fled; and some their fears detained:
But ere the Moon had sunk to rest
In her pale chambers of the west,
Of that rash levy nought remained. 225
CANTO FIFTH
High on a point of rugged ground
Among the wastes of Rylstone Fell
Above the loftiest ridge or mound
Where foresters or shepherds dwell,
An edifice of warlike frame 5
Stands single--Norton Tower its name--[NN]
It fronts all quarters, and looks round
O'er path and road, and plain and dell,
Dark moor, and gleam of pool and stream
Upon a prospect without bound. 10