INTRODUCTION. THE way was long, the wind was cold, The unpremeditated lay; Old times were changed, old manners gone A stranger filled the Stuart's throne; The bigots of the iron time Had called his harmless art a crime. He passed where Newark's stately tower The embattled portal-arch he passed, The Duchess marked his weary pace, When kindness had his wants supplied, Of good Earl Francis, dead and gone, A braver ne'er to battle rode: And how full many a tale he knew, Though stiff his hand, his voice though weak, He could make music to her ear |