Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/148

 Paces softly, or makes halt, By fractured cell, or tomb, or vault, By plate of monumental brass Dim-gleaming among weeds and grass, And sculptured Forms of Warriors brave; But chiefly by that single grave, That one sequestered hillock green, The pensive Visitant is seen. There doth the gentle Creature lie With those adversities unmoved; Calm Spectacle, by earth and sky In their benignity approved! And aye, methinks, this hoary Pile, Subdued by outrage and decay, Looks down upon her with a smile, A gracious smile, that seems to say, “Thou, thou art not a Child of Time, But Daughter of the Eternal Prime!”

END OF THE WHITE DOE.