OCTOBER 13, 1794.
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The first Percy, who came over with William the Conqueror, married a Saxon lady, called Emma de Port, said to have been the daughter of the last Saxon Earl of Northumberland, whose possessions had been given to him (Lord William de Percy) for his services.
I have taken the liberty of supposing this lady to have had a brother.
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Before the fair Aurora spread
Her azure mantle o’er the skies,
While sleep its pleasing influence shed,
On grateful mortals weary eyes,
Emerg’d from a surrounding wood,
On a bleak mountain’s sullen brow,
A solitary outlaw stood,
And view’d, through mist, the world below.
With deep regret his bosom fraught,
His arms were wreath’d in sorrow’s knot;
Nor seem’d he yet, by patience taught,
To bear submissively his lot.
Hidden was each enlivening grace;
Deprest by his untimely doom;
A hectic flush o’erspread his face,
Instead of nature’s florid bloom.
Untutor’d in the school of grief,
His pining spirit spoke in sighs;
Though almost hopeless of relief,
He look’d around with eager eyes;
And fondly bent an anxious ear,
To the slow murmuring of the breeze,
Essaying oft, in vain, to hear
A friendly step beneath the trees.
“Delusive wish!” at last he cried,
“Why wilt thou fill my aching breast?
And thus my miseries deride,
By telling how I might be blest.
“No kind consolers hither bend,
By sympathy to ease my care;
Here comes no ever-faithful friend,
Who yet might shield me from despair.
“The abbey’s well-known tow’r I
It fades from my impassion’d eye;
The fancied outlines softly break,
And melt into the distant sky.
“No pitying object now remains,
That I may know those scenes are near,
Where generous love and friendship reigns,
And Alwin’s name may claim a tear.
“And you, my lov’d paternal groves,
Where I no more must shew my head;
In your fair walks a stranger roves,
And treacherous Normans daily tread!
“E’en now their presence may prophane
The halls where Herbert did reside!
E’en now may joy and gladness reign,
And Adelaide be Percy’s bride.
“Yet no! her soul, the seat of truth,
Would ne’er a second love receive!
The sacred vows of artless youth,
Her Alwin ever shall believe!
“They still shall comfort my sad heart,
And sooth the anguish of my mind;
Shall still a cheering hope impart,
And make me somewhat more resign’d.
“Ah! yet I hear her trembling hand,
Withdraw the bolt to set me free!
Yet hear the hasty, kind command,
My Alwin fly, and live for me!