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That learned of him submissive ways,

And comforted his private days.

To his side the fallow-deer

Came, and rested without fear;

The eagle, lord of land and sea,
Stooped down to pay him fealty ;
And both the undying fish that swim
Through Bowscale-Tarn did wait on him
The pair were servants of his eye
In their immortality;

They moved about in open sight,
To and fro, for his delight.

He knew the rocks which angels haunt

On the mountain's visitant;

He hath kenned them taking wing:

And the caves where fairies sing
He hath entered; and been told
By voices, how men lived of old.
Among the heavens his eye can see
Face of thing that is to be ;
And, if men report him right,
He can whisper words of might.
-Now another day is come,
Fitter hope, and nobler doom :
He hath thrown aside his crook,
And hath buried deep his book:

* "It is imagined by the people of the country that there are two immortal fish, inhabitants of this tarn, which lies in the mountains not far from Threlkeld. Blencathara, mentioned before, is the old and proper name of the mountain, vulgarly called Saddle-back."

Armour rusting in his halls

On the blood of Clifford calls:

Quell the Scot!' exclaims the lance—
'Bear me to the heart of France,'

Is the longing of the shield ;—
Tell thy name, thou trembling field;
Field of death, where'er thou be,
Groan thou with our victory!

Happy day, and mighty hour,

When our shepherd, in his power,

Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword,

To his ancestors restored,

Like a re-appearing star,

Like a glory from afar,

First shall head the flock of war!"

Alas! the fervent harper did not know
That for a tranquil soul the lay was framed,
Who, long compelled in humble walks to go,
Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed.
Love had he found in huts where poor men lie;
His daily teachers had been woods and rills,
The silence that is in the starry sky,
The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

In him the savage virtue of the race,

Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead:
Nor did he change; but kept in lofty place
The wisdom which adversity had bred.

Glad were the vales, and every cottage hearth;

The shepherd lord was honoured more and more;

And, ages after he was laid in earth,

"The good lord Clifford" was the name he bore *.

* Wordsworth's Miscellaneous Poems, vol. ii. p. 272. et seq.

It will hereafter be found, however, that this shepherd-lord, though happily void of the unprincipled ambition and savage ferocity of some of his ancestors, had not degenerated from the martial spirit of his race, and that, when a proper occasion called for its exertion, he was amongst the foremost to rally round the standard of his king and country. In the mean time he was what the preceding lines, in conformity with history and tradition, have represented him, humble, courteous, and kind, fond of retirement, and addicted to contemplative pursuits.

Having visited therefore his Westmoreland estates, he passed into Yorkshire, and, on reaching Skipton in Craven, he fixed upon the neighbouring forest of Barden as the place of his retreat. In this romantic tract, which had from the time of the Romillies formed part of the honour and fee of Skipton, there were six lodges for the accommodation of the keepers, and the protection of the deer; and in one of these, called Barden Tower, which he greatly improved and enlarged, adding to its other conveniences that of a chapel, did lord Clifford take up his residence, preferring it to the splendour and parade which almost necessarily awaited him in his larger houses.

Here, with the object of his early choice, the beautiful and affectionate daughter of sir John St. John, the heroine of the ballad of the Nut-brown Maid, lord Clifford found the happiness he was in search of. Though uneducated, and aware of his deficiencies, a consciousness which, at the period of his elevation, had for a time depressed his spirits, he possessed a vigour of mind and rectitude of principle which prevented him from becoming a prey to vicious or luxurious habits. If, in his shepherd state, no portion of scholastic learning had fallen to his share, he had imbibed, what may assuredly be considered as some of Heaven's choicest gifts, an enthusiastic love of nature, a taste for natural history and philosophy, and, above all, a spirit of sincere devotion. With acquisitions such as these, we can no longer be surprised that, despising the vanities of wealth and rank, he preferred the beautiful seclusion of Barden to the pomp and splendour of Skipton or of Brougham Castle; especially when we learn that this retreat was in the immediate vicinity of Bolton Abbey, from an intercourse with the canons of which he hoped more effectually to prosecute both his religious and philosophical pursuits.

He had early in life, and whilst yet a shepherd's boy, owing to the total want of instruments for measuring the lapse of time, become a diligent observer of the heavenly bodies, a practice which had excited in him an ardent thirst for astronomical knowledge. As soon, therefore, as the means were in his power, he purchased the best apparatus which the science of the day could supply; and, converting the Tower of Barden into an observatory, he there,


company with some of the canons of Bolton, who are said to have been well acquainted with the astronomy of their age, spent no inconsiderable portion of his time.

This was not, however, the only resource to which in the field of science he could apply; for from evidence collected by the historian of Craven*, through the medium of the Clifford manuscripts, and from similar documents, which had once been the property of the inmates of Bolton Abbey, it would appear that, together with his friends the canons, he had prosecuted the study of chemistry, and had even entered upon the mysterious and visionary pursuit of the philosopher's stone. An

History of Craven, p. 252.

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