Perused, with him, the starry sky; And peace is none, for living or dead! Ah, pensive scholar, think not so, But look again at the radiant doe! What quiet watch she seems to keep, Alone, beside that grassy heap! Why mention other thoughts unmeet For vision so composed and sweet? While stand the people in a ring, Gazing, doubting, questioning; Yea, many overcome in spite Of recollections clear and bright; Which yet do unto some impart An undisturbed repose of heart, And all the assembly own a law Of orderly respect and awe; But see-they vanish, one by one. And last, the doe herself is gone. Harp! we have been full long beguiled By busy dreams, and fancies wild; To which, with no reluctant strings, Thou hast attuned thy murmurings; And now before this pile we stand In solitude, and utter peace; But, harp! thy murmurs may not ceaseThou hast breeze-like visitings; For a spirit with angel's wings Hath touched thee, and a spirit's hand: To chant, in strains of heavenly glory, CANTO II. THE harp in lowliness obeyed; And first we sang of the greenwood shade, Beginning, where the song must end, For she it was-this maid, who wrought In vermeil colours and in gold An unblest work; which, standing by, A banner, one that did fulfil And float in rueful company! It was the time when England's queen Twelve years had reigned, a sovereign dread; 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, By the dread justice of the sword! And sunshine to a dangerous strife; It came, and Francis Norton said, 'Tis meet that I endure your scorn,- The banner touch not, stay your hand,- Loud noise was in the crowded hall, And scarcely could the father hear That name-which had a dying fall, The name of his only daughter dear,And on the banner which stood near He glanced a look of holy pride, And his moist eyes were glorified; Then seized the staff, and thus did 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! Forth when sire and sons appeared All horsed and harnessed with him to ride; But Francis, in the vacant hall, And earth's green grass beneath his feet; Nor did he fail ere long 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 Of this brave man, when he shall see Oh! hide them from each other, hide, He saw her where in open view How could he choose but shrink or sigh? He paused, her silence to partake, And long it was before he spake: |