Of facts divulged, wherein appear Substantial motive, reason clear, Why thus the milk-white Doe is found And superstitious fancies strong, That bearded, staff-supported Sire, (Who in his youth hath often fed Full cheerily on convent-bread, And heard old tales by the convent-fire, And lately hath brought home the scars Gathered in long and distant wars) That Old Man The spectacle studious to expound hath mounted high To days of dim antiquity; When Lady Aäliza mourned Her Son, and felt in her despair, From which affliction, when God's grace Rose up this stately Priory! The Lady's work, - but now laid low; To the grief of her soul that doth come and go, In the beautiful form of this innocent Doe: Which, though seemingly doomed in its breast to sustain Is spotless, and holy, and gentle, and bright; Pass, pass who will, yon chantry door; A vault where the bodies are buried upright! There, face by face, and hand by hand, In the ruthless wars of the White and Red; Who dragged Earl Pembroke from Banbury church, Nor can it be with good intent: Earl Pembroke, slain so impiously! That slender Youth, a scholar pale, It is, thinks he, the gracious Fairy, Wild notes she in his hearing sang, That whistled like the wind, and rang 'Twas said that she all shapes could wear; And oftentimes before him stood, Amid the trees of some thick wood, In semblance of a lady fair; And taught him signs, and showed him sights, In Craven's dens, on Cumbrian heights; When under cloud of fear he lay, A Shepherd clad in homely grey, Nor left him at his later day. And hence, when he, with spear and shield, The fatal end of Scotland's King, But not in wars did he delight, This Clifford wished for worthier might; Him his own thoughts did elevate, Most happy in the shy recess Of Barden's humble quietness. And choice of studious friends had he Of Bolton's dear fraternity; Who, standing on this old church tower, But they and their good works are fled - Ah, pensive Scholar, think not so, But look again at the radiant Doe! What quiet watch she seems to keep, Alone, beside that grassy heap! Why mention other thoughts unmeet |