dows in this Chapel, especially of those near the altar, is found rather to resemble the style of architecture that prevailed about the reign of K. Edward III. And indeed that the fculpture in this Chapel cannot be much older, appears from the Creft which is placed at the Lady's feet on the Tomb; for Camden † inform us, that armorial Crefts did not become hereditary till a bout the reign of K. Edward II.

These appearances ftill extant, ftrongly confirm the account given in the following poem, and plainly prove that the HERMIT of Warkworth was not the fame perfon that founded Brinkburn Priory in the twelfth century, but rather one of the Bertram family who lived at a later period.

See his Remains.

*

** FIT was the word ufed by the old Minstrels to fignify a Part or Divifion of their hiftorical fongs, and was peculiarly appropri ated to this kind of compofitions. See Reliques of ancient Eng. Poetry, Vol. II. p. 166 and 397. 2d Ed.

THE

HERMIT of WARK WORTH.

A

Northumberland BALLA D.

FIT THE FIRST.

DARK was the night, and wild the form.

And loud

torrent's roar ;

And loud the fea was heard to dafh

Against the diftant shore.

Mufing on man's weak hapless flate,
The lonely Hermit lay;
When, lo! he heard a female voice,
Lament in fore difmay.

With hofpitable haste he rose,

And wak'd his fleeping fire; And fnatching up a lighted brand, Forth hied the reverend fire.

All fad beneath a neighbouring tree
A beauteous maid he found,
Who beat her breast, and with her tears.
Bedewed the moffy ground."

O weep not, lady, weep not fo;
Nor let vain fears alarm;
My little cell shall shelter thee,
And keep thee safe from harm.

It is not for myself I'weep,
Nor for myself I fear;

But for my dear and only friend,
Who lately left me here:

And while fome sheltering bower he fought
Within this lonely wood,
Ah! fore I fear his wandering feet
Have flipt in yonder flood.

O truft in heaven the Hermit faid,
And to my cell repair;

Doubt not but I fhall find thy friend,
And cafe thee of thy care.

Then climbing up his rocky ftairs,
He fcales the cliff fo high;
And calls aloud, and waves his light,
To guide the ftranger's eye.

Among the the thickets long he winds
With careful steps and flow:
At length a voice return'd his call,
Quick anfwering from below.

O tell me father, tell me true,
If you have chanc'd to fee
A gentle maid, I lately left

Beneath fome neighbouring tree.

But either I have loft the place,
Or fhe hath gone aftray:
And much I fear this fatal stream
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, thefe 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 bugie-horn fo 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 fpreading all upon the board,
Invites with kindly words.

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 counfel may avail)

What ftrange adventure brought you here
Within this lonely dále ?