While through the Host, from man to man, 210 A rumour of this purpose ran, The Standard trusting[82] to the care Of him who heretofore did bear That charge, impatient Norton sought The Chieftains to unfold his thought, 215 And thus abruptly spake;--"We yield (And can it be?) an unfought field!-- How oft has strength, the strength of heaven,[83] To few triumphantly been given! Still do our very children boast 220 Of mitred Thurston--what a Host He conquered![HH]--Saw we not the Plain (And flying shall behold again) Where faith was proved?--while to battle moved The Standard, on the Sacred Wain 225 That bore it, compassed round by a bold Fraternity of Barons old; And with those grey-haired champions stood, Under the saintly ensigns three, The infant Heir of Mowbray's blood-- 230 All confident of victory!--[84] Shall Percy blush, then, for his name? Must Westmoreland be asked with shame Whose were the numbers, where the loss, In that other day of Neville's Cross?[II] 235 When the Prior of Durham with holy hand Raised, as the Vision gave command, Saint Cuthbert's Relic--far and near Kenned on the point of a lofty spear; While the Monks prayed in Maiden's Bower 240 To God descending in his power.[85] Less would not at our need be due To us, who war against the Untrue;-- The delegates of Heaven we rise, Convoked the impious to chastise: 245 We, we, the sanctities of old Would re-establish and uphold: Be warned"--His zeal the Chiefs confounded,[86] But word was given, and the trumpet sounded: Back through the melancholy Host 250 Went Norton, and resumed his post. Alas! thought he, and have I borne This Banner raised with joyful pride,[87] This hope of all posterity, By those dread symbols sanctified;[88] 255 Thus to become at once the scorn Of babbling winds as they go by, A spot of shame to the sun's bright eye, To the light[89] clouds a mockery! --"Even these poor eight of mine would stem"-- Half to himself, and half to them 261 He spake--"would stem, or quell, a force Ten times their number, man and horse; This by their own unaided might, Without their father in their sight, 265 Without the Cause for which they fight; A Cause, which on a needful day Would breed us thousands brave as they." --So speaking, he his reverend head Raised towards that Imagery once more:[90] 270 But the familiar prospect shed Despondency unfelt before: A shock of intimations vain, Dismay,[91] and superstitious pain,