Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/73

 The Standard giving to the care Of him who heretofore did bear That charge, impatient Norton sought The Chieftains to unfold his thought, And thus abruptly spake,—“We yield (And can it be ?) an unfought field! —How often hath the strength of heaven To few triumphantly been given ! Still do our very children boast Of mitred Thurston, what a Host He conquered !—Saw we not the Plain, (And flying shall behold again) Where faith was proved?-while to battle moved The Standard on the sacred wain, On which the grey-haired Barons stood, And the infant Heir of Mowbray’s blood, Beneath the saintly Ensigns three, Their confidence and victory!