Through all the cloudy shadows of her own:
"Come grieve not—darling—o'er my early doom;
'Tis well that Death no drearier shape assume
Than this he comes in—well that widowed age
Will not extend my friendless pilgrimage
Through Life's dim vale of tears—'tis well that Pain
Wields not its lash nor binds its burning chain,
But leaves my death-bed to a mild decline,
Soothed and supported by a love like thine!"'
My copy of the poem is illustrated with a portrait, by J. B. Leyland, in pen-and-ink, of the ideal Percy. The drawing is bold and effective; and, though not intended for an exact portrait of Branwell, bears some resemblance to him in general character. The sketch is signed, 'Northangerland,' at the top; and, at the bottom, 'Alexander Percy, Esq.;' while the artist's name is discerned among the shadows which fall from the figure of Percy.