Can such a mighty Host be raised
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 He bore a heart of timid frame;
And bold if both had been, yet they
Against so many may not stay."
Back therefore will they hie to seize
A strong Hold on the banks of Tees; There wait a favorable hour,
Until Lord Dacre with his power
From Naworth come; and Howard's aid
Be with them openly displayed.
While through the Host, from man to man,
A rumor of this purpose ran, The Standard trusting to the care Of him who heretofore did bear That charge, impatient Norton sought The Chieftains to unfold his thought, And thus abruptly spake ;-"We yield (And can it be?) an unfought field!—
How oft has strength, the strength of heaven,
To few triumphantly been given!
Still do our very children boast
Of mitred Thurston-what a Host
He conquered!-Saw we not the Plain
(And flying shall behold again)
Where faith was proved?—while to battle moved
The Standard, on the Sacred Wain
That bore it, compassed round by a bold
Fraternity of Barons old:
From the old Ballad.
And with those grey-haired champions stood, Under the saintly ensigns three,
The infant Heir of Mowbray's blood— All confident of victory!—
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? 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 To God descending in his power.
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: We, we, the sanctities of old; Would re-establish and uphold:
Be warned "His zeal the Chiefs confounded, But word was given, and the trumpet sounded: Back through the melancholy Host,
Went Norton, and resumed his post. Alas! thought he, and have I borne, This Banner raised with joyful pride, This hope of all posterity,
By those dread symbols sanctified; 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 clouds a mockery!
Even these poor eight of mine would stem-"
Half to himself, and half to them
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, 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: But the familiar prospect shed Despondency unfelt before:
A shock of intimations vain, Dismay, and superstitious pain,
Fell on him, with the sudden thought 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, But her Faith leaned another way. 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, 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 In the cold grave hath long been laid : She first, in reason's dawn beguiled Her 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 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 From his distracted brain was cast, Before his Father, Francis stood, And spake in firm and earnest mood.
"Though here I bend a suppliant knee In reverence, and unarmed, I bear 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: 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, Yon multitude must pass away); If now I ask a grace not claimed
While ground was left for hope; unblamed Be an endeavor that can do
No injury to them or you.
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 remain 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 a prayer Which love had prompted, yielding scope Too free to one bright moment's hope ? Suffice it that the Son, who strove With fruitless effort to allay That passion, prudently gave way; Nor did he turn aside to prove His Brothers' wisdom or their love-But calmly from the spot withdrew; His best endeavors to renew, Should e'er a kindlier time ensue.
CANTO FOURTH.
"T Is night: in silence looking down, The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees A Camp, and a beleaguered Town, And Castle like a stately crown
On the steep rocks of winding Tees ;- And southward far, with moor between, Hill-top, and flood, and forest green, The bright Moon sees that valley small Where Rylstone's old sequestered Hall A venerable image yields
Of quiet to the neighboring fields; While from one pillared chimney breathes The smoke, and mounts in silver wreaths.
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