“Now who is he that bounds with joy
    On Carroch’s side, a shepherd boy? 
    No thoughts hath he but thoughts that pass,
    Light as the wind along the grass. 
    Can this be he who hither came
    In secret, like a smothered flame? 
    O’er whom such thankful tears were shed
    For shelter, and a poor man’s bread! 
    God loves the child; and God hath willed
    That those dear words should be fulfilled,
    The lady’s words, when forced away,
    The last she to her babe did say,
    ’My own, my own, thy fellow guest
    I may not be; but rest thee, rest,
    For lowly shepherd’s life is best.’”

Many items of traditionary lore still linger about the Cumberland hills respecting the young lord who grew up “as hardy as the heath on which he vegetated, and as ignorant as the rude herds which bounded over it.”  But the following description of young Clifford in his disguise, and of his employment, as given by Wordsworth, probably gives the most reliable traditionary account respecting him that prevailed in the district where he spent his lonely youth:—­

    “His garb is humble, ne’er was seen
    Such garb with such a noble mien;
    Among the shepherd grooms no mate
    Hath he, a child of strength and state! 
    Yet lacks not friends for solemn glee,
    And a cheerful company,
    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 to 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 mountains 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.”

But one of the first acts of Henry VII., on his accession to the throne was to restore young Clifford to his birthright, and to all the possessions that his distinguished sire had won.  There are few authentic facts, however, recorded concerning him; for it seems that as soon as he had emerged from the hiding-place where he had been brought up in ignorance of his rank, finding himself more illiterate than was usual, even in an illiterate age, he retired to a tower, which he built in a beautiful and sequestered forest, where, under the direction of the monks of Bolton Abbey, he gave himself up to the forbidden studies of alchemy and astrology.  His descendant Anne Clifford, Countess of Pembroke, describes him as “a plain man, who lived for the most part a country life, and came seldom either to Court or London, excepting when called to Parliament, on which occasion he behaved himself like a wise and good English nobleman.”  He was twice married, and was succeeded by his son, called Wild Henry Clifford, from the irregularities of his youth.