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The shock, AND FINALLY SECURE
O'ER PAIN AND GRIEF A TRIUMPH PURE.
- She feels it, and her pangs are checked.
But now, as silently she paced
The turf, and thought by thought was chased,
Came one who, with sedate respect,
Approached, and, greeting her, thus spake;
“ An old man's privilege I take:
Dark is the time, a woful day!
Dear daughter of affliction, say,
How can I serve you? point the way.”

“Rights have you,

and
may

well be bold :
You with my Father have grown old
In friendship, — strive, — for his sake go,-
Turn from us all the coming woe:
This would I beg; but on my

mind
A passive stillness is enjoined.
On
you,

if room for mortal aid
Be left, is no restriction laid ;
You not forbidden to recline
With hope upon the Will Divine."

“ Hope,” said the old Man, “ Must abide
With all of us, whate'er betide.
In Craven's Wilds is many a den,
To shelter persecuted men:
Far under ground is many a cave,
Where they might lie as in the grave,
Until this storm bath ceased to rave :

Or let them cross the River Tweed,
And be at once from peril freed !”

“Ah, tempt me not !” she faintly sighed; “I will not counsel nor exhort, With my condition satisfied ; But you, at least, may make report Of what befalls; be this your task, This

may be done; - 't is all I ask !”

She spake, and from the Lady's sight The Sire, unconscious of his age, Departed promptly as a Page Bound on some errand of delight. The noble Francis, wise as brave, Thought he, may want not skill to save. With hopes in tenderness concealed, Unarmed he followed to the field; Him will I seek: the insurgent Powers Are now besieging Barnard's Towers, “ Grant that the Moon which shines this night May guide them in a prudent flight!”

But quick the turns of chance and change, And knowledge has a narrow range ; Whence idle fears, and needless pain, And wishes blind, and efforts vain. The Moon may shine, but cannot be Their guide in flight, — already she Hath witnessed their captivity.

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She saw the desperate assault
Upon that hostile castle made;
But dark and dismal is the vault
Where Norton and his sons are laid !
Disastrous issue ! - he had said:
“ This night yon faithless Towers must yield,
Or we for ever quit the field.
- Neville is utterly dismayed,
For promise fails of Howard's aid;
And Dacre to our call replies
That he is unprepared to rise.
My heart is sick ;-

this weary pause
Must needs be fatal to our cause.
The breach is open,

on the wall, This night, the Banner shall be planted!” —'T was done : his Sons were with him,--all; They belt him round with hearts undaunted And others follow : Sire and Son Leap down into the court : “ 'Tis won, They shout aloud, — but Heaven decreed That with their joyful shout should close The triumph of a desperate deed Which struck with terror friends and foes ! The friend shrinks back, the foe recoils, From Norton and his filial band ; But they, now caught within the toils, Against a thousand cannot stand ; The foe from numbers courage drew, And overpowered that gallant few. * A rescue for the Standard !” cried

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The Father from within the walls ;
But, see, the sacred Standard falls ! -
Confusion through the Camp spread wide :
Some fled ; and some their fears detained :
But ere the Moon had sunk to rest
In her pale chambers of the west,
Of that rash levy naught remained.

CANTO FIFTH.

High on a point of rugged ground
Among the wastes of Rylstone Fell,
Above the loftiest ridge or mound
Where foresters or shepherds dwell,
An edifice of warlike frame
Stands single,

- Norton Tower its name;
It fronts all quarters, and looks round
O'er path and road, and plain and dell,
Dark moor, and gleam of pool and stream,
Upon a prospect without bound.

The summit of this bold ascent-
Though bleak and bare, and seldom free
As Pendle Hill or Pennygent
From wind, or frost, or vapors wet-
Had often heard the sound of glee
When there the youthful Nortons met,
To practise games and archery :
How proud and happy they! the crowd

Of Lookers-on how pleased and proud !
And from the scorching noontide sun,
From showers, or when the prize was won,
They to the Tower withdrew, and there
Would mirth run round, with generous fare ;
And the stern old Lord of Rylstone hall
Was happiest, proudest, of them all !

But now, his Child, with anguish pale, Upon the height walks to and fro; 'T is well that she hath heard the tale, Received the bitterness and woe: For she had hoped, had hoped and feared, Such right did feeble nature claim; And oft her steps had hither steered, Though not unconscious of self-blame; For she her Brother's charge revered, His farewell words; and by the same, Yea by her Brother's very name, Had, in her solitude, been cheered.

Beside the lonely watch-tower stood
That gray-haired man of gentle blood,
Who with her Father had

old
In friendship; rival hunters they,
And fellow-warriors in their day ;
To Rylstone he the tidings brought;
Then on this height the Maid had sought,
And, gently as he could, had told
The end of that dire Tragedy,
Which it had been his lot to see.

grown

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