Craven Blossoms or, Poems chiefly connected with the district of Craven. By Robert Storey |
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| XX. |
| XXI. | XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
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| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
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 | Craven Blossoms |  |
XXI.
“Lady, away!” with voice that farWas heard amid the tempest's jar,
Exclaimed the Guide, with outstretched arm;
And pale and breathless with alarm,
The Lady Margaret almost sunk
On the firm bosom of the Monk,
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As father would sustain a child.
So deemed Lord Fenwick.— [OMITTED]
“Now shalt thou see my place of rest,”
(The Monk his beauteous charge addressed,)
“Now shalt thou know how fares the Youth
Who loves thee with eternal truth;
How mean his cave and couch, fair girl,
Who loves the Daughter of an Earl;
And—uncompelled—shalt soon decide
If thou canst be an Outlaw's bride!
Nay, Lady, blench not thus—nor dream
Of use were struggle, tear, or scream.
I have thee! but my cave shall be
As safe as Warkworth Towers to thee;
And youths that boast their noble line,
Could never love with love like mine.”
| Craven Blossoms | |