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Canto I.
THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE.
5
A rural Chapel, neatly drest,
In covert like a little nest;
And thither young and old repair,
This Sabbath-day, for praise and prayer.
Fast the church-yard fills;—anon
Look again, and they all are gone ;
The cluster round the porch, and the folk
Who sate in the shade of the Prior’s Oak!
And scarcely have they disappeared
Ere the prelusive hymn is heard :—
With one consent the people rejoice,
Filling the church with a lofty voice!
They sing a service which they feel:
For ’tis the sun-rise now of zeal,
And faith and hope are in their prime,
In great Eliza’s golden time.
A moment ends the fervent din,
And all is hushed, without and within;
