PART I.

"O, say not so, Sir Francis, Breathe not such woe to me:-- Broad and pleasant are your lands, And your Hall is fair to see.

Faithful servants have you many, Fortune fair on you attends; Nor hath Knight in all the Island, Braver followers or friends.

With the Court you are a favourite-- Yet your King shall righted be: In his hour of deadly peril Can you from your monarch flee?

Look upon your blooming children, Flowers of Heaven newly blown! Here renewed behold your Lucy, And that boy is all your own.

Shall we in these dread commotions, Neither need your arm nor mind, Where shall I behold defender, Where shall these a Father find?

How I thought you loved us! Never Lightly could such love decline; Nor could you to idly voyage, All the wealth of life resign!"

----"Lucy! this is only torture-- Here I may no longer pause-- Long I for my King have battled-- Now we've neither King nor laws.

With our shrewd exultant Victor, Bootless now were strife of steel; Looking on my bleeding country Can I for her cease to feel?

All the land is grown outrageous: Honour, worth, are hunted down: Demons mock at our religion-- Idiots trample on the Crown.

Roaming o'er the billowy ocean, Peace may greet me here unknown; And, returning, civil tempests May be fairly overblown.

Should aught menacing approach you, To your noble Brothers, look: Danger! did they ever dread it? Insult! did they ever brook?

Guard your precious life, my Lucy! Need I say--not your's alone! Present--absent--living--dying-- I am--fear not--all your own!"

Starting from her arms, Sir Francis Quick his noble steed bestrode: And, with manly face averted, Forward--seaward--fleetly rode.

Soon his vessell, anchor weighing, To the sails the winds were true; And with sad, not weak, delaying, He bade his native land adieu!