Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/39

 But see-they vanish, one by one, And last, the Doe herself is gone.

Harp! we have been full long beguiled By busy dreams, and fancies wild; To which, with no reluctant strings, Thou hast attuned thy murmurings; And now before this Pile we stand In solitude, and utter peace : But, harp! thy murmurs may not cease,— Thou hast breeze-like visitings; For a Spirit with angel wings Hath touched thee, and a Spirit's hand: A voice is with us—a command To chaunt, in strains of heavenly glory, A tale of tears, a mortal story!

END OF CANTO FIRST.