But either I have loft the place,
Or the hath gone astray:

And much I fear this fatal ftream
Hath fnatch'd her hence away.

Praise heaven, my fon, the Hermit faid;
The lady's fafe and well:

And foon he join'd the wandering youth,
And brought him to his cell.

Then well was feen, these gentle friends
They lov'd each other dear:

The youth he prefs'd her to his heart;
The maid let fall a tear.

Ah! feldom had their hoft, I ween,
Beheld fo fweet a pair:

The youth was tall with manly bloom,
She flender, foft, and fair.

The youth was clad in foreft green,
With bugle-horn so bright:
She in a filken robe and scarf
Snatch'd up in hafty flight.

Sit down my children, fays the Sage;
Sweet reft your limbs require:
Then heaps fresh fewel on the hearth,
And mends his little fire.

Partake, he said, my fimple ftore,
Dried fruits, and milk, and curds;
And spreading.all upon the board,
Invites with kindly words
B

Thanks,

Thanks, father, for thy bounteous fare;
The youthful couple fay:

Then freely ate, and made good chear,
And talk'd their cares away.

Now fay, my children, (for perchance
My counsel may avail)

What strange adventure brought you here
Within this lonely dale?

Firft tell me, father, faid the youth,
(Nor blame mine eager tongue)

What town is here? What lands are thefe ?
And to what lord belong?

Alas! my fon, the Hermit faid,

Why do I live to say,

The rightful lord of thefe domains

Is banifh'd far away?

Ten winters now have fhed their fnows

On this my lowly hall,

Since valiant HOTSPUR (fo the North
Our youthful lord did call)

Against Fourth HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Led up his northern powers,
And ftoutly fighting loft his life

Near proud Salopia's towers.

One fon he left, a lovely boy,
His country's hope and heir;

And, oh! to fave him from his foes
It was his grandfire's care.

In

In Scotland fafe he plac'd the child
Beyond the reach of ftrife,
Nor long before the brave old Earl
At Bramham loft his life.

And now the PERCY name, fo long
Our northern pride and boaft,
Lies hid, alas! beneath a cloud;
Their honors reft and loft.

No chieftain of that noble houfe
Now leads our youth to arms;
The bordering Scots difpoil our fields,
And ravage all our farms.

Their halls and caftles, once fo fair,
Now moulder in decay;
Proud ftrangers now ufurp their lands,
And bear their wealth away.

Nor far from hence, where yon full ftream
Runs winding down the lea,

Fair WARKWORTH lifts her lofty towers,
And overlooks the fea.

Thofe towers, alas! now ftand forlorn,
With noisome weeds o'erspread,
Where feafted lords and courtly dames,
And where the poor were fed.

Meantime far off, mid Scottish hills
The PERCY lives unknown:

On ftranger's bounty he depends,
And may not claim his own.

B 2

O might

O might I with these aged eyes

But live to fee him here,

Then should my foul depart in blifs!
He said, and dropt a tear.

And is the PERCY ftill fo lov'd

Of all his friends and thee?
Then, blefs me, father, faid the youth,
For I thy guest am Hɛ.

Silent he gaz'd, then turn'd afide

To wipe the tears he shed;
And lifting up his hands and eyes,
Pour'd bleffings on his head :

Welcome, our dear and much-lov'd lord,
Thy country's hope and care :
But who may this young lady be,
That is fo wonderous fair.

Now, father, liften to my tale,

And thou shalt know the truth:

And let thy fage advice direct
My unexperienc'd youth.

In Scotland I've been nobly bred
Beneath the Regent's hand,*

In feats of arms, and every lore
To fit me for command.

With

ROBERT STUART, duke of Albany. See the continuator of FORDUN's Scoti-Chronicon, cap. 18. cap, 23, &c.

With fond impatience long I burn'd
My native land to fee:

At length I won my guardian friend,
To yield that boon to me.

Then up and down in hunter's garb
I wandered as in chace,

Till in the noble NEVILLE's houfe *.
I gain'd a hunter's place.

Sometime with him I liv'd unknown,
Till I'd the hap so rare,

To please this young and gentle dame,
That baron's daughter fair.

Now, PERCY, faid the blushing maid,
The truth I must reveal;
Souls great and generous, like to thine,
Their noble deeds conceal.

It happened on a fummer's day,
Led by the fragrant breeze,
I wandered forth to take the air
Among the green-wood trees.

Sudden a band of rugged Scots,
That near in ambush lay,
Mofs-troopers from the border-fide,

There feiz'd me for their prey.

My

RALPH NEVILLE, first Earl of Westmoreland, who

chiefly refided at his two Caftles of BRANCEPETH, and

RABY, both in the bishoprick of Durham.