A phantasm like a dream of night!
Thus overwhelmed, and desolate,
He found his way to a postern-gate ;
And, when he waked at length, his 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 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
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?

Oh! hide them from each other, hide,

Kind Heaven, this pair severely tried!

He saw her where in open view

She sate beneath the spreading yew,
Her head upon her lap, concealing
In solitude her bitter feeling;

How could he choose but shrink or sigh?

He shrunk, and muttered inwardly,

66

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."

He paused, her silence to partake,

And long it was before he spake :

Then, all at once, 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 were beloved,
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!
Thee, chiefly thee, 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!
A further, though far easier, task
Than thine hath been, my duties ask;
With theirs my efforts cannot blend,
I cannot for such cause contend;
Their aims I utterly forswear;

But I in body will be there.
Unarmed and naked will I go,
Be at their side, come weal or woe:
On kind occasions I may wait,

See, hear, obstruct, or mitigate.

Bare breast I take and an empty hand."*
Therewith he threw away the lance,

-

Which he had grasped in that strong trance,

Spurned it like something that would stand

Between him and the pure intent

Of love on which his soul was bent.

"For thee, for thee, is left the sense Of trial past without offence

To God or Man ;- such innocence,
Such consolation, and the excess
Of an unmerited distress;

In that thy very strength must lie.
-O Sister, I could prophesy!
The time is come that rings the knell
Of all we loved, and loved so well;
Hope nothing, if I thus may speak

To thee a woman,

and thence weak;

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,

* See the Old Ballad, "The Rising of the North."