PRESTON.
In the year 1715, the friends of the Pretender were defeated here by the forces of George the First, under the command of Generals Willis and Carpenter. Having been joined by disaffected people, great numbers of them were made prisoners, brought to trial, and found guilty of high treason. Richard Chorley, Esq., of Chorley, was one of the number. Fisher's Lancashire.
Lo! the banquet is over,—but one, only one,
Remains when the mirth of the revel is done;
His forehead is dark as he paces the hall,
He is bound by an oath which he cannot recall.
The youngest, though chief of his house and his line,
He has pledged the Stuart’s health in his own Spanish wine;
The sword on the wall must start forth from its sheath,
For Richard of Chorley is bound to the death.
He is brave as the bravest that ever wore brand,
Yet downcast his eye, and reluctant his hand.
He lingers enthralled by that tenderest tie,
For whose sake the bold are unwilling to die.
A step in the silence, a shade on the gloom,
And a lady thrice lovely hath entered the room;
He can see her lip quiver, can hear her heart beat,
She kneels on the floor, and she sinks at his feet.
He dares not look on her, he turns from her now,
For the moonlight falls clear on her beautiful brow:
One word from those lips, one glance from those eyes;
‘Tis for life, or for death—if he leave her, she dies.
‘Tis for love or for honour—a woman for love
Will yield every hope upon earth, or above;
But a soldier has honour—life’s first and best chord;
He may die for his love, but he lives for his word.
He belts on his sword, and he springs on his steed,
And the spur is dyed red as he urges its speed;
The road flies before him, he passes the wind,
But he leaves not the thoughts that oppress him behind.
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