Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/100

 The summit of this bold ascent, Though bleak and bare, and as seldom free As Pendle-hill or Pennygent From wind, or frost, or vapours 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 heat of the noon-tide sun, From showers, or when the prize was won, They to the Watch-tower did repair, Commodious Pleasure-house! and there Would mirth run round, with generous fare: And the stern old Lord of Rylstone-hall, He was the proudest of them all!

But now, his Child, with anguish pale, Upon the height walks to and fro;