Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/116

 For him, the sweet half-opened Flower! For all—all dying in one hour! —Why comes not Francis? Thoughts of love Should bear him to his Sister dear With motion fleet as winged Dove ; Yea, like a heavenly Messenger, An Angel-guest, should he appear. Why comes he not?—for westward fast Along the plain of York he past; The Banner-staff was in his hand, The Imagery concealed from sight, And cross the expanse, in open flight, Reckless of what impels or leads, Unchecked he hurries on ;—nor heeds The sorrow of the Villages; From the triumphant cruelties Of vengeful military force, And punishment without remorse, Unchecked he journies—under law Of inward occupation strong;