Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/130

 Within the wilderness her seat? Some island which the wild waves beat, Is that the Sufferer’s last retreat ? Or some aspiring rock, that shrouds Its perilous front in mists and clouds? High-climbing rock—deep sunless dale— Sea—desart [sic]—what do these avail? Oh take her anguish and her fears Into a calm recess of years!

’Tis done ;—despoil and desolation O’er Rylstone’s fair domain have blown; The walks and pools neglect hath sown With weeds, the bowers are overthrown, Or have given way to slow mutation, While, in their ancient habitation The Norton name hath been unknown: The lordly Mansion of its pride Is stripped; the ravage hath spread wide