Page:Hermit of Warkworth.pdf/5

 Alas! my son, the hermit said,

Why do I live to say,

The rightful lord of these domains

Is banish'd far away!

Ten winters now have shed their snows

On this my lowly hall,

Since valiant Hotspur (so the North

Our youthful lord did eallcall [sic])

Against fourth Henry Bolingbroke

Led up his northern powers,

And stoutly fighting lost his life

Near proud Salopia’s towers.

One son he left, a lovely boy,

His country’s hope and heir;

And oh! to save him from his foes

It was his grandsire’s earecare [sic].

In Scotland safe he plae’dplac’d [sic] the child

Beyond the reach of strife,

Not long before the brave old Earl

At Bramham lost his life.

And now the Percy name, so long

Our northern pride and boast,

Lies hid, alas! beneath a cloud;

Their honours reft and lost.

No chieftain of that noble house

Now leads our youth to arms;

The bordering Scots despoil our fields,

And ravage all our farms.

Their halls and castles, once so fair,

Now moulder in decay;

Proud strangers now usurp their lands.

And bear their wealth away.

Not far from hence, where yon full stream

Runs winding down the lea,

Fair Warkworth lifts her lofty towers,

And overlooks the sea.

These towers, alas! now stand forlorn,

With noisome weeds o’erspread;

Where feasted lords and courtly dames,

And where the poor were fed.

Meantime, far off, ’midst Scottish hills,

The Percy lives unknown:

On stranger’s bounty he depends,

And may not claim his own.