Craven Blossoms or, Poems chiefly connected with the district of Craven. By Robert Storey |
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| XII. | XII. |
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| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
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| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
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 | Craven Blossoms |  |
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XII.
“Sooth hast thou spoke,” the Lady said,As moved the Northern cavalcade
Some high upon the valley's side,
And some along the brooklet's tide,—
“Sooth hast thou spoke, Sir Guide; for there
Seem met the stern, the wild, the fair!
See, Fenwick, Swinburne, Ridley, all;
Behold that rock like castle-wall—
But never castle reared such front
To meet and scorn the battle's brunt.
Yet well it suits that fancy. Look,
May not the arch that gives the brook
Mark its sole portal, dark and stern?
And yon long trails of briar and fern,
Waved from its clefty summit high,
The place of martial flag supply?
While yonder deer with antlers tall
Might seem the warders on the wall.
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The water from its summit thrown,
And, rushing from its base, this stream
May well dissolve my castle-dream.
Yet, viewed as Nature meant, it stands
A wonder worthy of her hands!”
| Craven Blossoms | |