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Nor leave we Gaveston* unsung,
Carnarvon's minion, stout in wrong,
Supple and stiff by turns; whose tongue,
With insolent disdain,

Braved England's barons to the joust-
Whose sinewy arm's resistless thrust
O'erthrew her mightiest in the dust,
On Berkshire's tourney'd plain.

Yet for his prince's dear-bought choice,
The Gascon's manly air, and voice
Which made the listener's heart rejoice,
Some frail excuse might lend:

No vulgar sycophant was he,
Bending for wealth the sordid knee,
But train'd to feats of chivalry-
A great though guilty friend.

Witness, ye fields of Munster green,
And Thomond of his toils the scene;
When Ireland, shrinking at his mien,
Fled from the mortal shock.-
But nought avail his gallant deeds;
In vain the foe's pledged faith he pleads:
By vengeful Pembroke's axe he bleeds
Upon the patriot block!

This noble Gascon was a goodly personage, of a haughty and undaunted spirit, brave and hardy in arms;' as he showed himself in the tournament he held at Wallingford, where he challenged and foiled the flower of the English nobility, which more inflamed their malice toward him. In Munster and Thomond likewise, as Lieutenant of Ireland, he performed every where great service with much valour and worthiness. When he at last, in 1312, surrendered Scarborough Castle (of which he was governor) to the Earl of Pembroke, the articles of capitulation were totally disregarded, and he was beheaded. Hinderwell.

Now Mowbray *, Beauchamp, court my quill,
And well my swelling verse might fill
Percy, De Burgh, and Somerville

With acts of bold emprise :

Nor will I not transmit to fame
Fitzwilliam, ever honour'd name!
Which Yorkshire still with loud acclaim
Reechos to the skies.

And he on whom no parent smiled,
Gloster +-by many a crime defiled,
With her his glozing tongue beguiled,
These gilded cushions press'd-
Happy, ere Bosworth's fatal fight
Gave Richmond to his anxious sight,
Within the tomb's protecting night
Here had he sunk to rest!

But my faint step denies to trace
Through years remote each noble race
To whom this ancient pile to grace
By favouring fate was given:
Yet, ere from its loved towers I turn,
Befits to clasp the tear-stain'd urn

Of beauteous Cholmley §, changeless borne
To bloom a saint in heaven.

These are all found in the list of governors of Scarborough Castle.

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Cui non risêre parentes,' &c.

Richard III. after his coronation in 1483 visited Scarborough with Anne his queen, and resided for some time in the Castle. Hinderwell.

Such as St. Quintin, Lumley, Evers (or Evre), Boynton, Robinson, &c.

The wife of Sir Hugh Cholmley, who latterly held the castle for Charles I. with great bravery. See Hinderwell, p. 79; and for his lady's heroic fortitude, surpassing beauty, and great benevolence, p. 85-87.

Chomley! oh, could I breathe that name,
Nor tingled at the sound my frame,
Nor glow'd afresh thy hallow'd flame,
Pure Friendship, in my mind-
Remembering many a letter'd hour,
In Bransby's sweet sequester'd bower,
Dead were I to each generous power
Which thrills and melts our kind!

Backward I bend my sad regard
Where Stuart with his country warr'd,
And Falkland here, there Hampden bared
His breast to civil rage:-

Alas! that natures form'd for love,
Whom all the loftier passions move,
Such stern antipathies should prove,
Such deadly feuds should wage!

Even in that spirit-stirring hour,
When o'er the crest of despot power
War's crimson cloud was seen to lour,
In gloom disastrous spread;
"Twas thine, with erring ardour warm,
Proud fort (though shatter'd was thy form),
For faithless Charles to brave the storm
Which burst on Cholmley's head.

And see! his angel consort, calm
While furious hosts dispute the palm,
With healing drugs, religion's balm,
The anguish'd pillow tends;
Nor, to her bosom feelings true,
Inquires with party's narrow view,
Whose brow she steeps in pity's dew-
A foeman's or a friend's.

Such feelings thou, of wedded love
Chaste model! Hutchinson*, didst prove,
When legions round thee madly strove
In dire fraternal fray;

Though in a different cause, o'erplied
For liberty, thy soldier died :-
Virtue, nor bound to rank nor side,
Holds on her steadfast way.

But hark! as from yon holy fane
The bell proclaims the hour, in vain
I clasp it-ghostlike from my brain
The light illusion flies!

No more around that foreland's brow
Imagination's phantoms glow:
Where, Dacre-Cholmley, where art thou?
-All melted in the skies.

And now of all the pageant sheen,
Quick flitting o'er the trophied scene,
Memorial of what once hath been
No glittering wrecks remain !
Before my eye uncharm'd is spread
Of vulgar roofs the crescent red,
And, heaving on its pebbled bed,

The blue and billowy main.

REV. F. WRANGHAM.

*See Memoirs of Colonel Hutchinson, by his widow Lucy.

VOL. II.

LONDON

AT THE BREAK OF MORNING IN THE SEASON.

THROUGH the strange scenes of town, at early day,
Sad as I took my solitary way,

What motley groups presented to my eye,
Vice in its varied ranks of low and high!

Forced from his pallet, with unwilling feet Here crept the labourer down the silent street; Stopp'd at his favourite house, where purl and gin The day of toil and drunkenness begin;

Or temperate sipp'd, at Nancy's noted stand,
His black tea breakfast from her lily hand.
Here, reeling homeward from the tavern drunk,
Or filthier sojourn of his faithless punk,
Beneath a vast cock'd hat a little beau
At Brooks's call'd, to lose his last rouleau,
Here the proud gambler in his silken chair,
With purse replenish'd, quaff'd the morning air;
Return'd from ruining some easy tool,

And mock'd the madness of the beggar'd fool.
Where yon late torch emits a dying fire,
See slinking dominos to bed retire:

Hide from the sun their man-degrading dress,
Blush if they could, and feel a feign'd distress.
While masks more impudent all shame forswear,
And ape the character they ill can bear.

See, dashing brightly from yon western street, With lamps that laughingly the morning meet, The paint broad glaring in each hackney'd face, The sole unmarried daughter and her grace.

But lo! surrounding thick the water's side, And gazing anxious on the gloomy tide,

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