She did in passiveness obey,

But her Faith leaned another way.

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,

This Cross in tears: — by her, and One
Unworthier far, we are undone

Her Brother was it who assailed
Her tender spirit and prevailed.
Her other Parent, too, whose head
In the cold grave hath long been laid,
From reason's earliest dawn beguiled
The docile, unsuspecting Child:
Far back-far back my mind must go
To reach the well-spring of this woe!
While thus he brooded, music sweet
Was played to cheer them in retreat;
But Norton lingered in the rear :
Thought followed thought- and ere the last
Of that unhappy train was past,

"Now when 'tis not your aim to oppose," Said he, "in open field your Foes;

Now that from this decisive day

Your multitude must melt away,
An unarmed Man may come unblamed:
To ask a grace, that was not claimed
Long as your hopes were high, he now
May hither bring a fearless brow;
When his discountenance can do
No injury-may come to you.
Though in your cause no part I bear,
Your indignation I can share ;

Am grieved this backward march to see,
How careless and disorderly!

I scorn your Chieftains, Men who lead,
And yet want courage at their need;
Then look at them with open eyes!
Deserve they further sacrifice?
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 !
Admit me in the equipage

Of your misfortunes, that at least,

Whatever fate remains behind,

I

may

bear witness in my breast

To your nobility of mind!"

"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 this prayer? Or how, from his depression raised, The Father on his Son had gazed; Suffice it that the Son gave way, Nor strove that passion to allay, Nor did he turn aside to prove His Brothers' wisdom or their love

But calmly from the spot withdrew ;
The like endeavours to renew,
Should e'er a kindlier time ensue.

CANTO FOURTH.

FROM cloudless ether looking down,
The Moon, this tranquil evening, sees
A Camp, and a beleaguered Town,
And Castle like a stately crown

On the steep rocks of winding Tees; -
And southward far, with moors between,
Hill-tops, and floods, and forests green,
The bright Moon sees that valley small
Where Rylstone's old sequestered Hall
A venerable image yields

Of quiet to the neighbouring fields;

While from one pillared chimney breathes
The smoke, and mounts in silver wreaths.

The Grey-hounds to their kennel creep;

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;

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

Hath any sway? or pain, or fear?

A soft and lulling sound is heard
Of streams inaudible by day;

The garden pool's dark surface, stirred
By the night insects in their play,
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 :
The same fair Creature who was nigh

Feeding in tranquillity,

When Francis uttered to the Maid

His last words in the yew-tree shade ;

The same fair Creature, who hath found Her way into forbidden ground;

Where now, within this spacious plot