Hope nothing, I repeat; for we
Are doomed to perish utterly:
'Tis meet that thou with me divide
The thought while I am by thy side,
Acknowledging a grace in this,
A comfort in the dark abyss.

But look not for me when I am gone,
And be no further wrought upon:
Farewell all wishes, all debate,

All prayers for this cause, or for that!
Weep, if that aid thee; but depend
Upon no help of outward friend;
Espouse thy doom at once, and cleave
To fortitude without reprieve.

For we must fall, both we and ours,

This mansion and these pleasant bowers,
Walks, pools, and arbors, homestead, hall,—
Our fate is theirs, will reach them all;
The young horse must forsake his manger,
And learn to glory in a Stranger;
The hawk forget his perch; the hound

Be parted from his ancient ground :

The blast will sweep us all away,

One desolation, one decay!

And even this Creature!" which words saying,

He pointed to a lovely Doe,

A few steps distant, feeding, straying;

Fair creature, and more white than snow!

"Even she will to her peaceful woods

Return, and to her murmuring floods,

He kissed the consecrated Maid;
And down the valley then pursued,
Alone, the armèd Multitude.

CANTO THIRD.

Now joy for you who from the towers
Of Brancepeth look in doubt and fear,
Telling melancholy hours!

Proclaim it, let your Masters hear
That Norton with his band is near!

The watchmen from their station high
Pronounced the word,—and the Earls descry,
Well pleased, the armèd Company
Marching down the banks of Were.

Said fearless Norton to the pair
Gone forth to greet him on the plain:
"This meeting, noble Lords! looks fair,
I bring with me a goodly train;

Their hearts are with you: hill and dale

Have helped us: Ure we crossed, and Swale, And horse and harness followed,

The best part of their Yeomanry!

see

Stand forth, my Sons!-these eight are mine,

Whom to this service I commend ;
Which way soe'er our fate incline,

These will be faithful to the end;