Nor yet the restless crown had been
Disturbed upon her virgin head;
But now the inly-working North
Was ripe to send its thousands forth,
A potent vassalage, to fight

In Percy's and in Neville's right,
Two Earls fast leagued in discontent,
their wishes open vent;
And boldly urged a general plea,

Who

gave

The rites of ancient piety

To be triumphantly restored,

By the stern justice of the sword!

And that same Banner on whose breast
The blameless Lady had exprest
Memorials chosen to give life

And sunshine to a dangerous strife;
That Banner, waiting for the Call,
Stood quietly in Rylstone hall.

It came; and Francis Norton said, "O Father! rise not in this fray, The hairs are white upon your head; Dear Father, hear me when I say It is for you too late a day! Bethink you of your own good name : A just and gracious queen have we, A pure religion, and the claim

Of peace on our humanity.

'Tis meet that I endure your scorn; I am your son, your eldest born;

But not for lordship or for land,

My Father, do I clasp your knees;
The Banner touch not, stay your hand,
This multitude of men disband,

And live at home in blameless ease;
For these my brethren's sake, for me;
And, most of all, for Emily!"

Tumultuous noises filled the hall; And scarcely could the Father hear

That name,
pronounced with a dying fall, –
The name of his only Daughter dear,
As on the Banner which stood near
He glanced a look of holy pride,
And his moist eyes were glorified;
Then did he seize the staff, and 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 followed him, a gallant band!

Thus, with his sons, when forth he came, The sight was hailed with loud acclaim, And din of arms and minstrelsy,

From all his warlike tenantry,

All horsed and harnessed with him to ride, A voice to which the hills replied!

But Francis, in the vacant hall, Stood silent under dreary weight, – A phantasm, in which roof and wall Shook, tottered, swam before his sight; A phantasm like a dream of night! Thus overwhelmed, and desolate, He found his way to a postern-gate; And when he waked, his languid 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 erelong to hear

A sound of military cheer,

Faint

but it reached that sheltered spot;

He heard, and it disturbed him not.

There stood he, leaning on a lance

Which he had grasped unknowingly,
Had blindly grasped 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 reviewed:

But where will be the fortitude

Of this brave man, when he shall see
That Form beneath the spreading tree,
And know that it is Emily?

Her head upon her lap, concealing
In solitude her bitter feeling:
"Might ever son command a sire,
The act were justified to-day."

This to himself, — and to the Maid,

Whom now he had approached, he said:

"Gone are they, they have their desire; And I with thee one hour will stay, To give thee comfort if I may."

She heard, but looked not up, nor spake; And sorrow moved him to partake

Her silence; then his thoughts turned 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 have been loved
With heart by simple nature moved;
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, Stood He, whose arm yet lacks the power Of man, our youngest, fairest flower! I, by the right of eldest born, And in a second father's place, Presumed to grapple with their scorn, And meet their pity face to face; Yea, trusting in God's holy aid, I to my Father knelt and prayed; 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! Thou, chiefly thou, my Sister dear, Whose pangs are registered in heaven, The stifled sigh, the hidden tear,

And smiles, that dared to take their place,
Meek filial smiles, upon thy face,
As that unhallowed Banner grew
Beneath a loving old Man's view.
Thy part is done,- thy painful part;
Be thou then satisfied in heart!