Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/94

 ”This night yon haughty Towers must yield, Or we for ever quit the field. —Neville is utterly dismayed, For promise fails of Howard’s aid; And Dacre to our call replies That he is unprepared to rise. My heart is sick;—this weary pause Must needs be fatal to the cause. The breach is open—on the Wall, This night, the Banner shall be planted!” —’Twas done :—his Sons were with him—all;— They belt him round with hearts undaunted: And others follow—Sire and Son Leap down into the court—“’Tis won”— They shout aloud—but Heaven decreed Another close To that brave deed Which struck with terror friends and foes! The friend shrinks back—the foe recoils From Norton and his filial band;