--_Vide. Whitaker's History of Craven_

Lady! what is the fate of those
Whose hopes and joys are failing?
Who, brooding over ceaseless woes,
Finds prayer is unavailing?
The mother heard his maddening tone,
She marked his look of horror;
She thought upon her absent son,
And answered, "endless sorrow."

How fair that morning star arose!
And bright and cloudless was its ray;
Ah! who could think that evening's close,
Would mark a frantic mother's woes,
And see a father's hopes decay?

Inhuman Chief! a judgment stern
Hath stopped thee in thy mad career;
And thou, who hast made thousands mourn.
Must shed, thyself, the hopeless tear,
And long, in helpless grief, deplore
Thy only child is now no more.

Long ere the lark his matin sung,
Clad in his hunting garb of green,
The brave, the noble, and the young,
The Boy of Egremont was seen!
Who in his fair form could not trace,