THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE.
The name of his only daughter dear;
And on the banner which stood near
He glanced a look of holy pride,
And his wet eyes were glorified;
Then seized the staff, and thus did say:
"Thou, Richard, bear'st thy father's name,
Keep thou this ensign till the day
When I of thee require the same;
Thy place be on my better hand;
And seven as true as thou, I see,
Will cleave to this good cause and me."
He spake, and eight brave sons straightway
All follow'd him, a gallant band!
Forth when sire and sons appear'd,
A gratulating shout was rear'd,
With din of arms and minstrelsy,
From all his warlike tenantry,
All horsed and harness'd with him to ride;
A shout to which the hills replied!
But Francis, in the vacant hall,
Stood silent-under dreary weight,-
A phantasm, in which roof and wall
Shook, totter'd, swam before his sight,
A phantasm like a dream of night.
Thus overwhelm'd, and desolate,
He found his way to a postern-gate;
And, when he waked at length, his eye
Was on the calm and silent sky,
With air about him breathing sweet,
And earth's green grass beneath his feet;
Nor did he fail ere long to hear
A sound of military cheer,
Faint, but it reach'd that shelter'd spot;
He heard, and it disturb'd him not.
There stood he, leaning on a lance
Which he had grasp'd unknowingly,-
Had blindly grasp'd, in that strong trance,
That dimness of heart agony;
There stood he, cleansed from the despair
And sorrow of his fruitless prayer.
The past he calmly hath review'd;
But where will be the fortitude
Of this brave man, when he shall see
That form beneath the spreading trec,
And know that it is Emily?
Oh! hide them from each other,―hide
Kind Heaven, this pair severely tried!
He saw her, where in open view
She sate, beneath the spreading yew,
Her head upon her lap, concealing
In solitude her bitter feeling:
WORDSWORTH'S POEMS.
He shrunk, and mutter'd inwardly,
Might ever son command a sire,
The act were justified to-day."
This to himself-and to the maid,
Whom now he had approach'd, he said.
"Gone are they,-they have their desire;
And I with thee one hour will stay,
To give thee comfort if I may."
He paused, her silence to partake,
And long it was before he spake :
Then, all at once, his thoughts turn'd round.
And fervent words a passage found.
"Gone are they, bravely, though misled, With a dear father at their head!
The sons obey a natural lord;
The father had given solemn word
To noble Percy, and a force
Still stronger bends him to his course.
This said, our tears to-day may fall
As at an innocent funeral.
In deep and awful channel runs
This sympathy of sire and sons;
Untried our brothers were beloved,
And now their faithfulness is proved;
For faithful we must call them, bearing
That soul of conscientious daring.
There were they all in circle-there
Stood Richard, Ambrose, Christopher,
John with a sword that will not fail,
And Marmaduke in fearless mail,
And those bright twins were side by side;
And there, by fresh hopes beautified,
Was he, whose arm yet lacks the power
Of man, our youngest, fairest flower!
I, in the right of eldest-born,
And in a second father's place,
Presumed to stand against their scorn,
And meet their pity face to face;
Yea, trusting in God's holy aid,
I to my father knelt and pray'd;
And one, the pensive Marmaduke,
Methought, was yielding inwardly,
And would have laid his purpose by,
But for a glance of his father's eye,
Which I myself could scarcely brook.
"Then be we, each, and all, forgiven!
Thee, chiefly thee, my sister dear,
Whose pangs are register'd in heaven,-
The stifled sigh, the hidden tear,
And smiles, that dared to take their place
Meek filial smiles, upon thy face,
As that unhallow'd banner grew
THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE.
Beneath a loving old man's view.
Thy part is done-thy painful part;
Be thou then satisfied in heart!
A further, though far easier task
Than thine hath been, my duties ask;
With theirs my efforts cannot blend,
I cannot for such cause contend;
Their aims I utterly forswear:
But I in body will be there.
Unarm'd and naked will I go,
Be at their side, come weal or woe:
On kind occasions I may wait,
See, hear, obstruct, or mitigate.
Bare breast I take and an empty hand."-
Therewith he threw away the lance
Which he had grasp'd in that strong trance,
Spurn'd it-like something that would stand
Between him and the pure intent
Of love on which his soul was bent.
"For thee, for thee, is left the senso
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.
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;
Hope nothing, I repeat; for we
Are doom'd to perish utterly:
"Tis meet that thou with me divide
The thought while I am by thy side,
Acknowledging a grace in this,
A comfort in the dark abyss:
But look not for me when I'm gone,
And be no further wrought upon.
Farewell all wishes, all debate,
All prayers for this cause, or for that!
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,
This mansion and these pleasant bowers,
Walks, pools, and arbours, homestead, hall,
Our fate is theirs, will reach them all;
The young horse must forsake his manger,
And learn to glory in a stranger;
The hawk forget his perch,-the hound
Be parted from his ancient ground:
One desolation, one decay!
And even this creature!"-which words saying
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.
And be in heart and soul the same
She was before she hither came,-
Ere she had learn'd to love us all,
Herself beloved in Rylstone Hall.
But thou, my sister, doom'd to be
The last leaf which by Heaven's decree
Must hang upon a blasted tree;
If not in vain we have breathed the breath
Together of a purer faith-
If hand in hand we have been led
And thou, (O happy thought this day!)
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 suffer'd from the shock of zeal,
fogether we have learn'd to prize
Forbearance and self-sacrifice-
If we like combatants have fared,
And for this issue been prepared-
if thou art beautiful, and youth
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
Of undisturb'd humanity!"
He ended, or she heard no mors
He led her from the yew-tree shade,
And at the mansion's silent door,
He kiss'd the consecrated maid;
And down the valley he pursued,
Alone, the armèd multitude.
Now joy for you and sudden cheer,
Ye watchmen upon Brancepeth Towers;
Looking forth in doubt and fear,
Telling melancholy hours!
Proclaim it! let your masters hear
That Norton with his band is near.
The watchmen from their station high
Pronounced the word,-and the earls descrs.
Forthwith, the armed company
Marching down the banks of Were.
Said fearless Norton to the pair
Gone forth to hail 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 help'd us: Ure we cross'd and Swale,
And horse and harness follow'd-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,
These will be faithful to the end;
They are my all "-voice fail'd him here,-
"My all save one, a daughter dear!
Whom I have left, the mildest birth,
The meekest child on this bless'd earth.
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
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 mix'd with these, to Brancepeth came
Grave gentry of estate and name,
And captains known for worth in arms;
And pray'd the earls in self-defence
To rise, and prove their innocence.-
Rise, noble earls-put forth your might For holy church, and the people's right!"
The Norton fix'd, at this demand,
His eye upon Northumberland,
And said, "The minds of men will own
No loyal rest while England's crown
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;
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,
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
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