Biography of Thomas Percy
Thomas Percy was born on the 13th of April 1729 in Bridgnorth, Shropshire. He was educated at Bridgnorth Grammar School, later attending Christ Church, Oxford to receive a B.A. (1746 to 1750), again for an M.A. (1750 to 1753) and Emmanuel College, Cambridge in 1770 for a D.D.. He was fluent in English, Latin and Greek. Between 1753 and 1782 he lived in Easton-Maudit, Northamptonshire.
He was Protestant bishop of Dromore, before becoming a Dean. He married Anne Percy in 1759, and went on to become the father to two daughters; Barbara Isted and Elizabeth Meade. He died on the 30th of September in 1811 in Dromore, Ireland, and was subsequently buried at Dromore Cathedral.
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Thomas Percy Poems
Barbara Allen's Cruelty
In Scarlet towne, where I was borne, There was a faire maid dwellin, Made every youth crye, wel-awaye! Her name was Barbara Allen.
Why dois your brand sae drap wi' bluid, Edward, Edward? Why dois your brand sae drap wi' bluid? And why sae sad gang ye, O?
The Legend Of King Arthur
Of Brutus' blood, in Brittaine borne, King Arthur I am to name; Through Christendome and Heathynesse Well knowne is my worthy fame.
King Arthur's Death
On Trinitye Mondaye in the morne, This sore battayle was doom'd to bee, Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye! Alacke, it was the more pittìe.
The Bonny Earl Of Murray
Ye highlands, and ye lawlands, Oh! whair hae ye been? They hae slaine the earl of Murray, And hae layd him on the green.
Sweet William's Ghost
There came a ghost to Margaret's door, With many a grievous grone, And ay he tirled at the pin; But answer made she none.
Sir Lancelot Du Lake
When Arthur first in court began, And was approvèd king, By force of armes great victorys wonne, And conquest home did bring;
The Marriage Of Sir Gawaine
King Arthur lives in merry Carleile, And seemely is to see; And there with him queene Guenever, That bride soe bright of blee.
The Boy And The Mantle
In the third day of May, To Carleile did come A kind curteous child, That cold much of wisdome.
King Ryence's Challenge
As it fell out on a Pentecost day, King Arthur at Camelot kept his court royall, With his faire queene dame Guenever the gay, And many bold barons sitting in hall,
King Arthur's Death
On Trinitye Mondaye in the morne,
This sore battayle was doom'd to bee,
Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye!
Alacke, it was the more pittìe.
Ere the first crowinge of the cocke,
When as the kinge in his bed laye,
He thoughte Sir Gawaine to him came,
And there to him these wordes did saye: