With Thee he will not dread a toilsome day, His powerful Servant, his inspiring Mate! And, when thou art past service, worn away, Thee a surviving soul shall consecrate. His thrift thy uselessness will never scorn; An _Heir-loom_ in his cottage wilt thou be:-- 30 High will he hang thee up, and will adorn His rustic chimney with the last of Thee! _SONG_, AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE, Upon the RESTORATION OF LORD CLIFFORD, the SHEPHERD, to the Estates and Honours of his Ancestors. High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate. And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.-- The words of ancient time I thus translate, A festal Strain that hath been silent long. From Town to Town, from Tower to Tower, The Red Rose is a gladsome Flower. Her thirty years of Winter past; The Red Rose is revived at last; She lifts her head for endless spring, For everlasting blossoming! 10 Both Roses flourish, Red and White. In love and sisterly delight The two that were at strife are blended, And all old sorrows now are ended.-- Joy! joy to both! but most to her Who is the Flower of Lancaster! Behold her how She smiles to day On this great throng, this bright array! Fair greeting doth she send to all From every corner of the Hall; 20 But, chiefly, from above the Board Where sits in state our rightful Lord, A Clifford to his own restored. They came with banner, spear, and shield; And it was proved in Bosworth-field. Not long the Avenger was withstood, Earth help'd him with the cry of blood: St. George was for us, and the might Of blessed Angels crown'd the right. Loud voice the Land hath utter'd forth, 30 We loudest in the faithful North: Our Fields rejoice, our Mountains ring, Our Streams proclaim a welcoming; Our Strong-abodes and Castles see The glory of their loyalty. How glad is Skipton at this hour Though she is but a lonely Tower! Silent, deserted of her best, Without an Inmate or a Guest, Knight, Squire, or Yeoman, Page, or Groom; 40 We have them at the Feast of Brough'm. How glad Pendragon though the sleep Of years be on her!--She shall reap A taste of this great pleasure, viewing As in a dream her own renewing. Rejoiced is Brough, right glad I deem Beside her little humble Stream; And she that keepeth watch and ward Her statelier Eden's course to guard; They both are happy at this hour, 50 Though each is but a lonely Tower:-- But here is perfect joy and pride For one fair House by Emont's side, This day distinguished without peer To see her Master and to cheer; Him, and his Lady Mother dear.