e to one bright moment's hope?[98]
Suffice it that the Son, who strove
With fruitless effort to allay
That passion, prudently gave way;[99]
Nor did he turn aside to prove 340
His Brothers' wisdom or their love--
But calmly from the spot withdrew;
His best endeavours[100] to renew,
Should e'er a kindlier time ensue.

CANTO FOURTH

'Tis night: in silence looking down,
The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees[101]
A Camp, and a beleaguered Town,
And Castle like a stately crown
On the steep rocks of winding Tees;-- 5
And southward far, with moor between,
Hill-top, and flood, and forest green,[102]
The bright Moon sees that valley small
Where Rylstone's old sequestered Hall
A venerable image yields 10
Of quiet to the neighbouring fields;
While from one pillared chimney breathes
The smoke, and mounts in silver wreaths.[103]
--The courts are hushed;--for timely sleep
The grey-hounds to their kennel creep; 15
The peacock in the broad ash tree
Aloft is roosted for the night,
He who in proud prosperity
Of colours manifold and bright
Walked round, affronting the daylight; 20
And higher still, above the bower
Where he is perched, from yon lone Tower
The hall-clock in the clear moonshine
With glittering finger points at nine.

Ah! who could think that sadness here 25
Hath[104] any sway? or pain, or fear?
A soft and lulling sound is heard
Of streams inaudible by day;[JJ]
The garden pool's dark surface, stirred
By the night insects in their play, 30
Breaks into dimples small and bright;
A thousand, thousand rings of light
That shape themselves and disappear
Almost as soon as seen:--and lo!
Not distant far, the milk-white Doe-- 35
The same who quietly was feeding
On the green herb, and nothing heeding,
When Francis, uttering to the Maid[105]
His last words in the yew-tree shade,
Involved whate'er by love was brought 40
Out of his heart, or crossed his thought,
Or chance presented to his eye,
In one sad sweep of destiny--[106]
The same fair Creature, who hath found
Her way into forbidden groun