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"From town to town, from tower to tower,
The two that were at strife are blended,
On this great throng, this bright array!
They came with banner, spear, and shield; And it was proved in Bosworth-field. Not long the Avenger was withstoodEarth helped him with the cry of blood: St. George was for us, and the might Of blessed Angels crowned the right. Loud voice the Land has uttered forth, We loudest in the faithful north: Our fields rejoice, our mountains ring, Our streams proclaim a welcoming; Our strong-abodes and castles see The glory of their loyalty.
How glad is Skipton at this hour-
Knight, squire, and yeoman, page and groom:
Oh! it was a time forlorn When the fatherless was bornGive her wings that she may fly, Or she sees her infant die! Swords that are with slaughter wild Hunt the Mother and the Child. Who will take them from the light? -Yonder is a man in sightYonder is a house-but where? No, they must not enter there. To the caves, and to the brooks, To the clouds of heaven she looks; She is speechless, but her eyes Pray in ghostly agonies. Blissful Mary, Mother mild, Maid and Mother undefiled, Save a Mother and her Child!
Now Who is he that bounds with joy On Carrock's side, a Shepherd-boy? No thoughts hath he but thoughts that pass Light as the wind along the grass.