O'erwhelm'd with sorrow--and sustaining long 'The proud man's contumely, the oppressor's wrong,' Languid despondency, and vain regret, Must my exhausted spirit struggle yet? Yes! robb'd myself of all that Fortune gave, Of every hope--but shelter in the grave; Still shall the plaintive lyre essay it's powers, And dress the cave of Care, with Fancy's flowers; Maternal love, the fiend Despair withstand, Still animate the heart and guide the hand. May you, dear objects of my tender care! Escape the evils, I was born to bear: Round my devoted head, while tempests roll, Yet there--'where I have treasured up my soul,' May the soft rays of dawning hope impart Reviving patience to my fainting heart; And, when it's sharp anxieties shall cease, May I be conscious, in the realms of peace, That every tear which swells my children's eyes, From evils past, not present sorrows, rise. Then, with some friend who loves to share your pain, (For 'tis my boast, that still such friends remain,) By filial grief, and fond remembrance prest, You'll seek the spot where all my miseries rest, Recall my hapless days in sad review, The long calamities I bore for you, And, with an happier fate, resolve to prove How well ye merited your mother's love! EMMELINE THE ORPHAN OF THE CASTLE CHAPTER I In a remote part of the county of Pembroke, is an old building, formerly of great strength, and inhabited for centuries by the ancient family of Mowbray; to the sole remaining branch of which it still belonged, tho' it was, at the time this history commences, inhabited only by servants; and the greater part of it was gone to decay. A few rooms only had been occasionally repaired to accommodate the proprietor, when he found it necessary to come thither to receive his rents, or to inspect the condition of the estate; which however happened so seldom, that during the twelve years he had been master of it, he had only once visited the castle for a few days. The business that related to the property round it (which was very considerable) was conducted by a steward grown grey in the service of the family, and by an attorney from London, who came to hold the courts. And an old housekeeper, a servant who waited on her, the steward, and a labourer who was kept to look after his horse and work in that part of the garden which yet bore the vestige of cultivation, were now all its inhabitants; except a little girl, of whom the housekeeper had the care, and who was believed to be the natural daughter of that elder brother, by whose death Lord Montreville, the present possessor, became entitled to the estate.