Poems, moral and descriptive By the late Richard Jago ... (Prepared for the press, and improved by the author, before his death.) To which is added, some account of the life and writings of Mr. Jago |
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| III. |
| IV. | BOOK IV. EVENING.
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 | Poems, moral and descriptive |  |
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BOOK IV. EVENING.
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Argument to Book the Fourth.
Evening Walk along the Hill to the N. E. Point. Scene from thence. Dasset-Hills. Farnborough. Wormleighton. Shuckburg. Leame and Ichene. Places near those two Rivers. Bennones, or High-Cross. Foss-Way. Watling-Street. Inland Navigation. Places of Note. Return. Panegyric on the Country. The Scene moralized. Tho' beautiful, yet transient. Change by Approach of Winter. Of Storms and Pestilential Seasons. Murrain. Rot amongst the Sheep. General Thoughts on the Vanity and Disorders of human Life. Battle of Edge-Hill. Reflections. Conclusion.
109
In purple vestments clad, the temper'd sky
Invites us from our hospitable roof,
To taste her influence mild; while to the west
The jocund sun his radiant chariot drives,
With rapid course, untir'd. Ye nymphs, and swains!
Now quit the shade, and, with recruited strength,
Along the yet untroden terrace urge
Your vig'rous steps. With moderated heat,
And ray oblique, the sun shall not o'erpow'r,
But kindly aid your yet unfinish'd search.
Invites us from our hospitable roof,
To taste her influence mild; while to the west
The jocund sun his radiant chariot drives,
With rapid course, untir'd. Ye nymphs, and swains!
Now quit the shade, and, with recruited strength,
Along the yet untroden terrace urge
Your vig'rous steps. With moderated heat,
110
But kindly aid your yet unfinish'd search.
Not after sable night, in silence hush'd,
More welcome is th'approach of op'ning morn,
‘With song of early birds,’ than the fresh breeze
Of soften'd air succeeding sultry heat,
And the wild tumult of the buzzing day.
More welcome is th'approach of op'ning morn,
‘With song of early birds,’ than the fresh breeze
Of soften'd air succeeding sultry heat,
And the wild tumult of the buzzing day.
Nor think, tho' much is past, that nought remains,
Or nought of beauty, or attractive worth,
Save what the morning-sun, or noon-tide ray,
Hath, with his rising beam, distinctly mark'd,
Or more confus'dly, with meridian blaze,
Daz'ling display'd imperfect. Downward he
Shall other hills illumine opposite,
And other vales as beauteous as the past;
Suggesting to the Muse new argument,
And fresh instruction for her closing lay.
Or nought of beauty, or attractive worth,
Save what the morning-sun, or noon-tide ray,
Hath, with his rising beam, distinctly mark'd,
Or more confus'dly, with meridian blaze,
Daz'ling display'd imperfect. Downward he
Shall other hills illumine opposite,
And other vales as beauteous as the past;
Suggesting to the Muse new argument,
And fresh instruction for her closing lay.
There Dasset's ridgy mountain courts the song.
Scarce Malvern boasts his adverse boundary
More graceful. Like the tempest-driven wave,
Irregularly great, his bare tops brave
The winds, and, on his sides, the fat'ning ox
Crops the rich verdure. When at Hastings' field,
The Norman Conqueror a kingdom won
In this fair Isle, and to another race
The Saxon pow'r transferr'd; an alien lord,
Companion of his toil! by sov'reign grant,
These airy fields obtain'd. Now the tall Mount,
By claim more just, a nobler master owns;
To tyrant force, and slavish laws a foe.
But happier lands, near Ouse's reedy shore,
(What leisure ardent love of public weal
Permits) his care employ; where Nature's charms
With learned Art combin'd; the richest domes,
And fairest lawns, adorn'd with ev'ry grace
Of beauty, or magnificent design,
By Cobham's eye approv'd, or Grenville plann'd,
The villas of imperial Rome outvie;
And form a scene of statelier pomp—a Stowe.
Her walls the living boast, these boast the dead,
Beneath their roof, in sacred dust entomb'd.
Lie light, O earth! on that illustrious Dame
,
Who, from her own prolific womb deriv'd,
To people thy green orb, successive saw
Sev'n times an hundred births. A goodlier train!
Than that, with which the Patriarch journey'd erst
From Padan-Aram, to the Mamrean plains:
Or that more num'rous, which, with large increase,
At Joseph's call, in wond'rous caravans,
Reviving sight! by Heav'n's decree prepar'd,
He led to Goshen, Egypt's fruitful soil.
Scarce Malvern boasts his adverse boundary
More graceful. Like the tempest-driven wave,
Irregularly great, his bare tops brave
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Crops the rich verdure. When at Hastings' field,
The Norman Conqueror a kingdom won
In this fair Isle, and to another race
The Saxon pow'r transferr'd; an alien lord,
Companion of his toil! by sov'reign grant,
These airy fields obtain'd. Now the tall Mount,
By claim more just, a nobler master owns;
To tyrant force, and slavish laws a foe.
But happier lands, near Ouse's reedy shore,
(What leisure ardent love of public weal
Permits) his care employ; where Nature's charms
With learned Art combin'd; the richest domes,
And fairest lawns, adorn'd with ev'ry grace
Of beauty, or magnificent design,
By Cobham's eye approv'd, or Grenville plann'd,
The villas of imperial Rome outvie;
And form a scene of statelier pomp—a Stowe.
Her walls the living boast, these boast the dead,
Beneath their roof, in sacred dust entomb'd.
112
Who, from her own prolific womb deriv'd,
To people thy green orb, successive saw
Sev'n times an hundred births. A goodlier train!
Than that, with which the Patriarch journey'd erst
From Padan-Aram, to the Mamrean plains:
Or that more num'rous, which, with large increase,
At Joseph's call, in wond'rous caravans,
Reviving sight! by Heav'n's decree prepar'd,
He led to Goshen, Egypt's fruitful soil.
Where the tall pillar lifts its taper head,
Her spacious terrace, and surrounding lawns,
Deckt with no sparing cost of planted tufts,
Or ornamented building, Farnborough boasts.
Hear they her master's call? in sturdy troops,
The jocund labourers hie, and, at his nod,
A thousand hands or smooth the slanting hill,
Or scoop new channels for the gath'ring flood,
And, in his pleasures, find substantial bliss.
Her spacious terrace, and surrounding lawns,
Deckt with no sparing cost of planted tufts,
Or ornamented building, Farnborough boasts.
Hear they her master's call? in sturdy troops,
The jocund labourers hie, and, at his nod,
A thousand hands or smooth the slanting hill,
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And, in his pleasures, find substantial bliss.
Nor shall thy verdant pastures be unsung
Wormleighton! erst th'abode of Spenser's race,
Their title now! What? tho' in height thou yield'st
To Dasset, not in sweet luxuriance
Of fatning herbage, or of rising groves;
Beneath whose shade the lusty steers repose
Their cumbrous limbs, mixt with the woolly tribes,
And leisurely concoct their grassy meal.
Wormleighton! erst th'abode of Spenser's race,
Their title now! What? tho' in height thou yield'st
To Dasset, not in sweet luxuriance
Of fatning herbage, or of rising groves;
Beneath whose shade the lusty steers repose
Their cumbrous limbs, mixt with the woolly tribes,
And leisurely concoct their grassy meal.
Her wood-capt summit
Shuckburgh there displays;
Nor fears neglect, in her own worth secure,
And glorying in the name her master bears.
Nor will her scenes, with closer eye, survey'd,
Frustrate the searcher's toil, if steepy hills,
By frequent chasms disjoin'd, and glens profound,
And broken precipices, vast, and rude
Delight the sense; or Nature's lesser works,
Tho' lesser, not less fair! or native stone,
Or fish, the little Astroit's doubtful race,
For starry rays, and pencil'd shades admir'd!
Invite him to these fields, their airy bed.
Nor fears neglect, in her own worth secure,
And glorying in the name her master bears.
Nor will her scenes, with closer eye, survey'd,
Frustrate the searcher's toil, if steepy hills,
By frequent chasms disjoin'd, and glens profound,
114
Delight the sense; or Nature's lesser works,
Tho' lesser, not less fair! or native stone,
Or fish, the little Astroit's doubtful race,
For starry rays, and pencil'd shades admir'd!
Invite him to these fields, their airy bed.
Where Leame and Ichene own a kindred rise,
And haste their neighb'ring currents to unite,
New hills arise, new pastures green, and fields
With other harvests crown'd; with other charms
Villas, and towns with other arts adorn'd.
There Ichington its downward structures views
In Ichene's passing wave, which, like the Mole,
Her subterraneous journey long pursues,
Ere to the sun she gives her lucid stream.
Thy villa, Leamington! her sister nymph
In her fair bosom shews; while, on her banks,
As further she her liquid course pursues,
Amidst surrounding woods his ancient walls
Birb'ry conceals, and triumphs in the shade.
And haste their neighb'ring currents to unite,
New hills arise, new pastures green, and fields
With other harvests crown'd; with other charms
Villas, and towns with other arts adorn'd.
There Ichington its downward structures views
In Ichene's passing wave, which, like the Mole,
Her subterraneous journey long pursues,
Ere to the sun she gives her lucid stream.
Thy villa, Leamington! her sister nymph
In her fair bosom shews; while, on her banks,
As further she her liquid course pursues,
115
Birb'ry conceals, and triumphs in the shade.
Not such thy lot, O
Bourton! nor from sight
Retirest thou, but, with complacent smile,
Thy social aspect courts the distant eye,
And views the distant scene reciprocal,
Delighting, and delighted. Dusky heaths
Succeed, as oft to mirth, the gloomy hour!
Leading th'unfinish'd search to thy fam'd seat
Bennones! where two military ways
Each other cross, transverse from sea to sea,
The Romans hostile paths! There Newnham's walls
With graceful pride ascend, th'inverted pile
In her clear stream, with flow'ry margin grac'd,
Admiring. Newbold there her modest charms
More bashfully unveils, with solemn woods,
And verdant glades enamour'd. Here her lawns,
And rising groves for future shelter form'd,
Fair Coton wide displays. There Addison,
With mind serene, his moral theme revolv'd,
Instruction drest in Learning's fairest form!
The gravest wisdom with the liveliest wit
Attemper'd! or, beneath thy roof retir'd
O Bilton! much of peace, and liberty
Sublimely mus'd, on Britain's weal intent,
Or in thy shade the coy Pierians woo'd.
Retirest thou, but, with complacent smile,
Thy social aspect courts the distant eye,
And views the distant scene reciprocal,
Delighting, and delighted. Dusky heaths
Succeed, as oft to mirth, the gloomy hour!
Leading th'unfinish'd search to thy fam'd seat
Bennones! where two military ways
Each other cross, transverse from sea to sea,
The Romans hostile paths! There Newnham's walls
With graceful pride ascend, th'inverted pile
In her clear stream, with flow'ry margin grac'd,
Admiring. Newbold there her modest charms
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And verdant glades enamour'd. Here her lawns,
And rising groves for future shelter form'd,
Fair Coton wide displays. There Addison,
With mind serene, his moral theme revolv'd,
Instruction drest in Learning's fairest form!
The gravest wisdom with the liveliest wit
Attemper'd! or, beneath thy roof retir'd
O Bilton! much of peace, and liberty
Sublimely mus'd, on Britain's weal intent,
Or in thy shade the coy Pierians woo'd.
Another theme demands the varying song.
Lo! where but late the flocks, and heifers graz'd,
Or yellow harvests wav'd, now, thro' the vale,
Or o'er the plain, or round the slanting hill
A glitt'ring path attracts the gazer's eye,
Where sooty barques pursue their liquid track
Thro' lawns, and woods, and villages remote
From public haunt, which wonder as they pass.
The channel'd road still onward moves, and still
With level course, the flood attendant leads.
Hills, dales oppose in vain. A thousand hands
Now thro' the mountain's side a passage ope,
Now with stupendous arches bridge the vale,
Now over paths, and rivers urge their way
Aloft in air. Again the Roman pride
Beneath thy spacious camp embattled hill,
O Brinklow! seems with gentler arts return'd.
But Britain now no bold invader fears,
No foreign aid invokes. Alike in arts
Of peace, or war renown'd. Alike in both
She rivals ancient Rome's immortal fame.
Lo! where but late the flocks, and heifers graz'd,
Or yellow harvests wav'd, now, thro' the vale,
Or o'er the plain, or round the slanting hill
A glitt'ring path attracts the gazer's eye,
Where sooty barques pursue their liquid track
Thro' lawns, and woods, and villages remote
From public haunt, which wonder as they pass.
117
With level course, the flood attendant leads.
Hills, dales oppose in vain. A thousand hands
Now thro' the mountain's side a passage ope,
Now with stupendous arches bridge the vale,
Now over paths, and rivers urge their way
Aloft in air. Again the Roman pride
Beneath thy spacious camp embattled hill,
O Brinklow! seems with gentler arts return'd.
But Britain now no bold invader fears,
No foreign aid invokes. Alike in arts
Of peace, or war renown'd. Alike in both
She rivals ancient Rome's immortal fame.
Still villas fair, and populous towns remain—
Polesworth, and Atherstone, and Eaton's walls
To charity devote! and, Tamworth, thine
To martial fame! and thine, O
Merival!
Boasting thy beauteous woods, and lofty scite!
And Coleshill! long for momentary date
Of human life, tho' for our wishes short,
Repose of Digby's honourable age!
Polesworth, and Atherstone, and Eaton's walls
To charity devote! and, Tamworth, thine
118
Boasting thy beauteous woods, and lofty scite!
And Coleshill! long for momentary date
Of human life, tho' for our wishes short,
Repose of Digby's honourable age!
Nor may the Muse, tho' on her homeward way
Intent, short space refuse his alleys green,
And decent walls with due respect to greet
On Blythe's fair stream, to whose laborious toil
She many a lesson owes, his painful search
Enjoying without pain, and, at her ease,
With equal love of native soil inspir'd,
Singing in measur'd phrase her country's fame.
Intent, short space refuse his alleys green,
And decent walls with due respect to greet
On Blythe's fair stream, to whose laborious toil
She many a lesson owes, his painful search
Enjoying without pain, and, at her ease,
With equal love of native soil inspir'd,
Singing in measur'd phrase her country's fame.
Nor, Arbury! may we thy scenes forget,
Haunt of the Naiads, and each woodland nymph!
Rejoicing in his care, to whom adorn'd
With all the graces which her schools expound,
The gowny sons of Isis trust their own,
And Britain's weal. Nor shall thy splendid walls,
O Packington! allure the Muse in vain.
The Goths no longer here their empire hold.
The shaven terrac'd hill, slope above slope,
And high impris'ning walls to Belgia's coast
Their native clime retire.—In formal bounds
The long canal no more confines the stream
Reluctant.—Trees no more their tortur'd limbs
Lament—no more the long-neglected fields,
Like outlaws banish'd for some vile offence,
Are hid from sight—from its proud reservoir
Of amplest size, and fair indented form,
Along the channel'd lawn the copious stream
With winding grace the stately current leads.
The channel'd lawn its bounteous stream repays,
With ever-verdant banks, and cooling shades,
And wand'ring paths, that emulate its course.
On ev'ry side spreads wide the beauteous scene,
Assemblage fair of plains, and hills, and woods,
And plants of od'rous scent—plains, hills, and woods,
And od'rous plants rejoice, and smiling hail
The reign of Nature, while attendant Art
Submissive waits to cultivate her charms.
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Rejoicing in his care, to whom adorn'd
With all the graces which her schools expound,
The gowny sons of Isis trust their own,
And Britain's weal. Nor shall thy splendid walls,
O Packington! allure the Muse in vain.
The Goths no longer here their empire hold.
The shaven terrac'd hill, slope above slope,
And high impris'ning walls to Belgia's coast
Their native clime retire.—In formal bounds
The long canal no more confines the stream
Reluctant.—Trees no more their tortur'd limbs
Lament—no more the long-neglected fields,
Like outlaws banish'd for some vile offence,
Are hid from sight—from its proud reservoir
Of amplest size, and fair indented form,
Along the channel'd lawn the copious stream
With winding grace the stately current leads.
The channel'd lawn its bounteous stream repays,
With ever-verdant banks, and cooling shades,
120
On ev'ry side spreads wide the beauteous scene,
Assemblage fair of plains, and hills, and woods,
And plants of od'rous scent—plains, hills, and woods,
And od'rous plants rejoice, and smiling hail
The reign of Nature, while attendant Art
Submissive waits to cultivate her charms.
Hail happy land! which Nature's partial smile
Hath robed profusely gay! whose champaigns wide
With plenteous harvests wave; whose pastures swarm
With horned tribes, or the sheep's fleecy race;
To the thronged shambles yielding wholesome food,
And various labour to man's active pow'rs,
Not less benign than to the weary rest.
Nor destitute thy woodland scenes of wealth,
Or sylvan beauty! there the lordly swain
His scantier fields improves; o'er his own realms
Supreme, at will to sow his well-fenc'd glebe,
With grain successive; or with juicy herbs,
To swell his milky kine; or feed, at ease,
His flock in pastures warm. His blazing hearth,
With copious fewel heap'd, defies the cold;
And housewife-arts or teize the tangled wool,
Or, from the distaff's hoard, the ductile thread,
With sportive hand entice; while to the wheel
The sprightly carol join'd, or plaintive song
Diffuse, and artless sooths th'untutor'd ear
With heart-felt strains, and the slow task beguiles.
Hath robed profusely gay! whose champaigns wide
With plenteous harvests wave; whose pastures swarm
With horned tribes, or the sheep's fleecy race;
To the thronged shambles yielding wholesome food,
And various labour to man's active pow'rs,
Not less benign than to the weary rest.
Nor destitute thy woodland scenes of wealth,
Or sylvan beauty! there the lordly swain
His scantier fields improves; o'er his own realms
Supreme, at will to sow his well-fenc'd glebe,
With grain successive; or with juicy herbs,
To swell his milky kine; or feed, at ease,
His flock in pastures warm. His blazing hearth,
With copious fewel heap'd, defies the cold;
121
Or, from the distaff's hoard, the ductile thread,
With sportive hand entice; while to the wheel
The sprightly carol join'd, or plaintive song
Diffuse, and artless sooths th'untutor'd ear
With heart-felt strains, and the slow task beguiles.
Nor hath the sun, with less propitious ray,
Shone on the masters of the various scene.
Witness the splendid train! illustrious names,
That claim precedence on the lists of fame,
Nor fear oblivious time! enraptur'd Bards!
Or learned Sages! gracing, with their fame,
Their native soil, and my aspiring verse.
Shone on the masters of the various scene.
Witness the splendid train! illustrious names,
That claim precedence on the lists of fame,
Nor fear oblivious time! enraptur'd Bards!
Or learned Sages! gracing, with their fame,
Their native soil, and my aspiring verse.
Say, now my dear companions! for enough
Of leisure to descriptive song is giv'n;
Say, shall we, ere we part, with moral eye,
The scene review, and the gay prospect close
With observation grave, as sober eve
Hastes now to wrap in shades the closing day?
Perhaps the moral strain delights you not!
Perhaps you blame the Muse's quick retreat;
Intent to wander still along the plain,
In coverts cool, lull'd by the murm'ring stream,
Or gentle breeze; while playful fancy skims,
With careless wing, the surfaces of things:
For deep research too indolent, too light
For grave reflection. So the Syren queen
Tempted Alcides, on a flow'ry plain,
With am'rous blandishment, and urg'd to waste
His prime inglorious: but fair Virtue's form
Rescued the yielding youth, and fir'd his breast
To manly toil, and glory's well-earn'd prize.
O! in that dang'rous season, O! beware
Of Vice, envenom'd weed! and plant betimes
The seeds of virtue in th'untainted heart.
So on its fruit th'enraptur'd mind shall feast
When, to the smiling day, and mirthful scene
Night's solemn gloom, cold winter's chilling blasts,
And pain, and sickness, and old age succeed.
Nor slight your faithful guide, my gentle train!
But, with a curious eye, expatiate free
O'er Nature's moral plan. Tho' dark the theme,
Tho' formidable to the sensual mind;
Yet shall the Muse, with no fictitious aid,
Inspir'd, still guide you with her friendly voice,
And to each seeming ill some greater good
Oppose, and calm your lab'ring thoughts to rest.
Of leisure to descriptive song is giv'n;
Say, shall we, ere we part, with moral eye,
The scene review, and the gay prospect close
With observation grave, as sober eve
Hastes now to wrap in shades the closing day?
Perhaps the moral strain delights you not!
Perhaps you blame the Muse's quick retreat;
Intent to wander still along the plain,
122
Or gentle breeze; while playful fancy skims,
With careless wing, the surfaces of things:
For deep research too indolent, too light
For grave reflection. So the Syren queen
Tempted Alcides, on a flow'ry plain,
With am'rous blandishment, and urg'd to waste
His prime inglorious: but fair Virtue's form
Rescued the yielding youth, and fir'd his breast
To manly toil, and glory's well-earn'd prize.
O! in that dang'rous season, O! beware
Of Vice, envenom'd weed! and plant betimes
The seeds of virtue in th'untainted heart.
So on its fruit th'enraptur'd mind shall feast
When, to the smiling day, and mirthful scene
Night's solemn gloom, cold winter's chilling blasts,
And pain, and sickness, and old age succeed.
Nor slight your faithful guide, my gentle train!
But, with a curious eye, expatiate free
O'er Nature's moral plan. Tho' dark the theme,
Tho' formidable to the sensual mind;
Yet shall the Muse, with no fictitious aid,
123
And to each seeming ill some greater good
Oppose, and calm your lab'ring thoughts to rest.
Nature herself bids us be serious,
Bids us be wise; and all her works rebuke
The ever-thoughtless, ever-titt'ring tribe.
What, tho' her lovely hills, and valleys smile
To-day, in beauty drest? yet, ere three moons
Renew their orb, and to their wane decline,
Ere then the beauteous landscape all will fade;
The genial airs retire; and shiv'ring swains
Shall, from the whiten'd plain, and driving storm,
Avert the smarting cheek, and humid eye.
Bids us be wise; and all her works rebuke
The ever-thoughtless, ever-titt'ring tribe.
What, tho' her lovely hills, and valleys smile
To-day, in beauty drest? yet, ere three moons
Renew their orb, and to their wane decline,
Ere then the beauteous landscape all will fade;
The genial airs retire; and shiv'ring swains
Shall, from the whiten'd plain, and driving storm,
Avert the smarting cheek, and humid eye.
So some fair maid to time's devouring rage
Her bloom resigns, and, with a faded look,
Disgusts her paramour; unless thy charms,
O Virtue! with more lasting beauty grace
Her lovelier mind, and, thro' declining age,
Fair deeds of piety, and modest worth,
Still flourish, and endear her still the more.
Her bloom resigns, and, with a faded look,
Disgusts her paramour; unless thy charms,
O Virtue! with more lasting beauty grace
Her lovelier mind, and, thro' declining age,
Fair deeds of piety, and modest worth,
Still flourish, and endear her still the more.
Nor always lasts the Landscape's gay attire
Till surly Winter, with his ruffian blasts,
Benumbs her tribes, and dissipates her charms.
As sickness oft the virgin's early bloom
Spoils immature, preventing hoary age,
So blasts and mildews oft invade the fields
In all their beauty, and their summer's pride.
And oft the sudden show'r, or sweeping storm
O'erflows the meads, and to the miry glebe
Lays close the matted grain; with awful peal,
While the loud thunder shakes a guilty world,
And forked lightnings cleave the sultry skies.
Till surly Winter, with his ruffian blasts,
124
As sickness oft the virgin's early bloom
Spoils immature, preventing hoary age,
So blasts and mildews oft invade the fields
In all their beauty, and their summer's pride.
And oft the sudden show'r, or sweeping storm
O'erflows the meads, and to the miry glebe
Lays close the matted grain; with awful peal,
While the loud thunder shakes a guilty world,
And forked lightnings cleave the sultry skies.
Nor does the verdant mead, or bearded field
Alone the rage of angry skies sustain.
Oft-times their influence dire the bleating flock,
Or lowing herd assails, and mocks the force
Of costly med'cine, or attendant care.
Such late the wrathful pestilence, that seiz'd
In pastures far retir'd, or guarded stalls,
The dew-lap'd race! with plaintive lowings they,
And heavy eyes, confess'd the pois'nous gale,
And drank infection in each breath they drew.
Quick thro' their veins the burning fever ran,
And from their nostrils stream'd the putrid rheum
Malignant; o'er their limbs faint languors crept,
And stupefaction all their senses bound.
In vain their master, with officious hand,
From the pil'd mow the sweetest lock presents;
Or anxiously prepares the tepid draught
Balsamic; they the proffer'd dainty loath,
And Death exulting claims his destin'd prey.
Alone the rage of angry skies sustain.
Oft-times their influence dire the bleating flock,
Or lowing herd assails, and mocks the force
Of costly med'cine, or attendant care.
Such late the wrathful pestilence, that seiz'd
In pastures far retir'd, or guarded stalls,
125
And heavy eyes, confess'd the pois'nous gale,
And drank infection in each breath they drew.
Quick thro' their veins the burning fever ran,
And from their nostrils stream'd the putrid rheum
Malignant; o'er their limbs faint languors crept,
And stupefaction all their senses bound.
In vain their master, with officious hand,
From the pil'd mow the sweetest lock presents;
Or anxiously prepares the tepid draught
Balsamic; they the proffer'd dainty loath,
And Death exulting claims his destin'd prey.
Nor seldom
coughs, and watry rheums afflict
The woolly tribes, and on their vitals seize;
Thinning their folds; and, with their mangled limbs,
And tatter'd fleeces, the averted eye
Disgusting, as the squeamish traveller,
With long-suspended breath, hies o'er the plain.
And is their lord, proud Man! more safe than they?
More privileg'd from the destroying breath,
That, thro' the secret shade, in darkness walks,
Or smites whole pastures at the noon of day?
Ah! no, Death mark'd him from his infant birth;
Mark'd for his own, and, with envenom'd touch,
His vital blood defil'd. Thro' all his veins
The subtle poison creeps; compounded joins
Its kindred mass to his increasing bulk;
And, to the rage of angry elements,
Betrays his victim, poor, ill-fated Man;
Not surer born to live, than born to die!
In what a sad variety of forms
Clothes he his messengers? Deliriums wild!
Inflated dropsy! slow consuming cough!
Jaundice, and gout, and stone; convulsive spasms;
The shaking head, and the contracted limb;
And ling'ring atrophy, and hoary age;
And second childhood, slack'ning ev'ry nerve,
To joy, to reason, and to duty dead!
I know thee, who thou art, offspring of Sin,
And Satan! nurs'd in Hell, and then let loose
To range, with thy accursed train, on earth,
When man, apostate man! by Satan's wiles,
From life, from bliss, from God, and goodness fell!
Who knows thee not? who feels thee not within,
Plucking his heart-strings? whom hast thou not robb'd
Of parent, wife, or friend, as thou hast me?
Glutting the grave with ever-crowding guests,
And, with their image, sad'ning ev'ry scene,
Less peopled with the living than the dead!
The woolly tribes, and on their vitals seize;
Thinning their folds; and, with their mangled limbs,
126
Disgusting, as the squeamish traveller,
With long-suspended breath, hies o'er the plain.
And is their lord, proud Man! more safe than they?
More privileg'd from the destroying breath,
That, thro' the secret shade, in darkness walks,
Or smites whole pastures at the noon of day?
Ah! no, Death mark'd him from his infant birth;
Mark'd for his own, and, with envenom'd touch,
His vital blood defil'd. Thro' all his veins
The subtle poison creeps; compounded joins
Its kindred mass to his increasing bulk;
And, to the rage of angry elements,
Betrays his victim, poor, ill-fated Man;
Not surer born to live, than born to die!
In what a sad variety of forms
Clothes he his messengers? Deliriums wild!
Inflated dropsy! slow consuming cough!
Jaundice, and gout, and stone; convulsive spasms;
The shaking head, and the contracted limb;
And ling'ring atrophy, and hoary age;
And second childhood, slack'ning ev'ry nerve,
127
I know thee, who thou art, offspring of Sin,
And Satan! nurs'd in Hell, and then let loose
To range, with thy accursed train, on earth,
When man, apostate man! by Satan's wiles,
From life, from bliss, from God, and goodness fell!
Who knows thee not? who feels thee not within,
Plucking his heart-strings? whom hast thou not robb'd
Of parent, wife, or friend, as thou hast me?
Glutting the grave with ever-crowding guests,
And, with their image, sad'ning ev'ry scene,
Less peopled with the living than the dead!
Thro' populous streets the never-ceasing bell
Proclaims, with solemn sound, the parting breath;
Nor seldom from the village-tow'r is heard
The mournful knell. Alike the grassy ridge,
With osiers bound, and vaulted catacomb,
His spoils inclose. Alike the simple stone,
And mausoleum proud, his pow'r attest,
In wretched doggrel, or elab'rate verse.
Proclaims, with solemn sound, the parting breath;
Nor seldom from the village-tow'r is heard
The mournful knell. Alike the grassy ridge,
With osiers bound, and vaulted catacomb,
His spoils inclose. Alike the simple stone,
And mausoleum proud, his pow'r attest,
In wretched doggrel, or elab'rate verse.
128
Perhaps the peasant's humble obsequies;
The flowing sheet, and pall of rusty hue,
Alarm you not. You slight the simple throng;
And for the nodding plumes, and scutcheon'd hearse,
Your tears reserve. Then mark, o'er yonder plain,
The grand procession suited to your taste.
I mock you not. The sable pursuivants
Proclaim th'approaching state. Lo! now the plumes!
The nodding plumes, and scutcheon'd hearse appear!
And clad in mournful weeds, a long sad train
Of slowly-moving pomp, that waits on death!
Nay—yet another melancholy train!
Another triumph of the ghastly fiend
Succeeds! 'Tis so. Perhaps ye have not heard
The mournful tale. Perhaps no messenger
Hath warn'd you to attend the solemn deed!
Then from the Muse the piteous story learn;
And, with her, on the grave procession wait,
That to their early tomb, to mould'ring dust
Of ancestors, that crowd the scanty vault,
Near which our song began,
Northampton bears,
The gay Northampton, and his beauteous Bride!
Far other pageants in his youthful breast
He cherish'd, while, with delegated trust,
On stately ceremonials, to the shore,
Where Adria's waves the sea-girt city lave,
He went; and, with him, join'd in recent love,
His blooming Bride, of Beaufort's royal line,
The charming Somerset! But royal blood,
Nor youth, nor beauty, nor employment high,
Cou'd grant protection from the rude assault
Of that barbarian Death; who, without form,
To courts and cottages unbidden comes;
And his unwelcome embassy fulfils,
Without distinction, to the lofty peer,
The graceful bride, or peasant's homely race.
Ere, from her native soil, she saw the sun
Run half his annual course, in Latian climes,
She breath'd her last; him, ere that course was done,
Death met returning on the Gallic plains,
And sent to join her yet unburied dust:
Who, but this youthful pair's untimely fate
Must weep, who, but in theirs, may read their own?
The flowing sheet, and pall of rusty hue,
Alarm you not. You slight the simple throng;
And for the nodding plumes, and scutcheon'd hearse,
Your tears reserve. Then mark, o'er yonder plain,
The grand procession suited to your taste.
I mock you not. The sable pursuivants
Proclaim th'approaching state. Lo! now the plumes!
The nodding plumes, and scutcheon'd hearse appear!
And clad in mournful weeds, a long sad train
Of slowly-moving pomp, that waits on death!
Nay—yet another melancholy train!
Another triumph of the ghastly fiend
Succeeds! 'Tis so. Perhaps ye have not heard
The mournful tale. Perhaps no messenger
Hath warn'd you to attend the solemn deed!
Then from the Muse the piteous story learn;
And, with her, on the grave procession wait,
That to their early tomb, to mould'ring dust
Of ancestors, that crowd the scanty vault,
129
The gay Northampton, and his beauteous Bride!
Far other pageants in his youthful breast
He cherish'd, while, with delegated trust,
On stately ceremonials, to the shore,
Where Adria's waves the sea-girt city lave,
He went; and, with him, join'd in recent love,
His blooming Bride, of Beaufort's royal line,
The charming Somerset! But royal blood,
Nor youth, nor beauty, nor employment high,
Cou'd grant protection from the rude assault
Of that barbarian Death; who, without form,
To courts and cottages unbidden comes;
And his unwelcome embassy fulfils,
Without distinction, to the lofty peer,
The graceful bride, or peasant's homely race.
Ere, from her native soil, she saw the sun
130
She breath'd her last; him, ere that course was done,
Death met returning on the Gallic plains,
And sent to join her yet unburied dust:
Who, but this youthful pair's untimely fate
Must weep, who, but in theirs, may read their own?
Another lesson seek ye, other proof
Of vanity, and lamentable woe
Betiding man? Another scene to grace
With troops of victims the terrific king,
And humble wanton Folly's laughing sons?
The Muse shall from her faithful memory
A tale select; a tale big with the fate
Of kings, and heroes on this now fair field
Embattled! but her song shall to your view
Their ranks embody, and, to future peace,
Their fierce designs, and hostile rage convert.
Of vanity, and lamentable woe
Betiding man? Another scene to grace
With troops of victims the terrific king,
And humble wanton Folly's laughing sons?
The Muse shall from her faithful memory
A tale select; a tale big with the fate
Of kings, and heroes on this now fair field
Embattled! but her song shall to your view
Their ranks embody, and, to future peace,
Their fierce designs, and hostile rage convert.
Not on Pharsalia's plain a bolder strife
Was held, tho' twice with Roman blood distain'd,
Than when thy subjects, first imperial Charles!
Dared, in these fields, with arms their cause to plead.
Where once the Romans pitch'd their hostile tents,
Other Campanias fair, and milder Alps
Exploring, now a nobler warrior stood,
His country's sov'reign liege! Around his camp
A gallant train of loftiest rank attend,
By loyalty, and love of regal sway,
To mighty deeds impell'd. Mean while below
Others no less intrepid courage boast,
From source as fair, the love of Liberty!
Dear Liberty! when rightly understood,
Prime social bliss! Oh! may no fraud
Usurp thy name, to veil their dark designs
Of vile ambition, or licentious rage!
Was held, tho' twice with Roman blood distain'd,
Than when thy subjects, first imperial Charles!
Dared, in these fields, with arms their cause to plead.
131
Other Campanias fair, and milder Alps
Exploring, now a nobler warrior stood,
His country's sov'reign liege! Around his camp
A gallant train of loftiest rank attend,
By loyalty, and love of regal sway,
To mighty deeds impell'd. Mean while below
Others no less intrepid courage boast,
From source as fair, the love of Liberty!
Dear Liberty! when rightly understood,
Prime social bliss! Oh! may no fraud
Usurp thy name, to veil their dark designs
Of vile ambition, or licentious rage!
Long time had they, with charge of mutual blame,
And fierce debate of speech, discordant minds
Avow'd, yet not to desp'rate chance of war
'Till now their cause referr'd: rude arbiter
Of fit, and right! Unhappy native land!
Nought then avail'd that Nature form'd thy fields
So fair, and with her wat'ry barrier fenc'd!
Nought then avail'd thy forms of guardian laws,
The work of ages, in a moment lost,
And ev'ry social tie at once dissolv'd!
For now no more sweet peace, and order fair,
And kindred love remain'd, but hostile rage
Instead, and mutual jealousy, and hate,
And tumult loud! nor, hadst thou then been there,
O Talbot! cou'd thy voice, so often heard
On heav'nly themes! nor his fraternal! skill'd
In social claims, the limits to define
Of law, and right, have calm'd the furious strife,
Or still'd the rattling thunder of the field.
And fierce debate of speech, discordant minds
Avow'd, yet not to desp'rate chance of war
'Till now their cause referr'd: rude arbiter
Of fit, and right! Unhappy native land!
Nought then avail'd that Nature form'd thy fields
So fair, and with her wat'ry barrier fenc'd!
132
The work of ages, in a moment lost,
And ev'ry social tie at once dissolv'd!
For now no more sweet peace, and order fair,
And kindred love remain'd, but hostile rage
Instead, and mutual jealousy, and hate,
And tumult loud! nor, hadst thou then been there,
O Talbot! cou'd thy voice, so often heard
On heav'nly themes! nor his fraternal! skill'd
In social claims, the limits to define
Of law, and right, have calm'd the furious strife,
Or still'd the rattling thunder of the field.
Across the plain, where the slight eminence,
And scatter'd hedge-rows mark a midway space
To yonder town, once deem'd a royal court;
Now harbouring no friends to royalty!
The popular troops their martial lines extend.
High on the hill, the royal banners wave
Their faithful signals. Rang'd along the steep,
The glitt'ring files, in burnish'd armour clad,
Reflect the downward sun; and, with its gleam,
The distant crowds affright, who trembling wait
For the dire onset, and the dubious fight.
And scatter'd hedge-rows mark a midway space
To yonder town, once deem'd a royal court;
Now harbouring no friends to royalty!
The popular troops their martial lines extend.
133
Their faithful signals. Rang'd along the steep,
The glitt'ring files, in burnish'd armour clad,
Reflect the downward sun; and, with its gleam,
The distant crowds affright, who trembling wait
For the dire onset, and the dubious fight.
As pent-up waters, swell'd by sudden rains,
Their former bounds disdain, and foam, and rage
Impatient of restraint; till, at some breach,
Outward they burst impetuous, and mock
The peasant's feeble toil, which strives to check
Their headlong torrent; so the royal troops,
With martial rage inflam'd, impatient wait
The trumpet's summons. At its sprightly call,
The airy seat they leave, and down the steep,
Rank following rank, like wave succeeding wave,
Rush on the hostile wings. Dire was the shock,
Dire was the clash of arms! The hostile wings
Give way, and soon in flight their safety seek.
They, with augmented force, and growing rage
The flying foe pursue. But too secure,
And counting of cheap conquest quickly gain'd
O'er dastard minds, in wordy quarrels bold,
But slack by deeds to vindicate their claim,
In chace, and plunder long they waste the day,
And late return, of order negligent.
Mean while the battle in the centre rag'd
With diff'rent fortune, by bold Essex led,
Experienc'd chief! and to the monarch's cause,
And youthful race, for martial deeds unripe,
Menac'd destruction. In the royal breast
High passions rose, by native dignity
Made more sublime, and urg'd to pow'rful act
By strong, paternal love, and proud disdain
Of vulgar minds, arraigning in his race
The rights of sov'reignty, from ancient kings
In order fair deriv'd. Amidst his troops
With haste he flies, their broken ranks reforms,
To bold revenge re-animates their rage,
And from the foe his short-liv'd honour wrests.
Their former bounds disdain, and foam, and rage
Impatient of restraint; till, at some breach,
Outward they burst impetuous, and mock
The peasant's feeble toil, which strives to check
Their headlong torrent; so the royal troops,
With martial rage inflam'd, impatient wait
The trumpet's summons. At its sprightly call,
The airy seat they leave, and down the steep,
Rank following rank, like wave succeeding wave,
Rush on the hostile wings. Dire was the shock,
Dire was the clash of arms! The hostile wings
Give way, and soon in flight their safety seek.
They, with augmented force, and growing rage
The flying foe pursue. But too secure,
And counting of cheap conquest quickly gain'd
134
But slack by deeds to vindicate their claim,
In chace, and plunder long they waste the day,
And late return, of order negligent.
Mean while the battle in the centre rag'd
With diff'rent fortune, by bold Essex led,
Experienc'd chief! and to the monarch's cause,
And youthful race, for martial deeds unripe,
Menac'd destruction. In the royal breast
High passions rose, by native dignity
Made more sublime, and urg'd to pow'rful act
By strong, paternal love, and proud disdain
Of vulgar minds, arraigning in his race
The rights of sov'reignty, from ancient kings
In order fair deriv'd. Amidst his troops
With haste he flies, their broken ranks reforms,
To bold revenge re-animates their rage,
And from the foe his short-liv'd honour wrests.
135
Now Death, with hasty stride, stalks o'er the field,
Grimly exulting in the bloody fray.
Now on the crested helm or burnish'd shield,
He stamps new horrors; now the levell'd sword
With weightier force impells, with iron-hoof
Now tramples on th'expiring ranks; or gores
The foaming steed against th'opposing spear.
But chiefly on the cannon's brazen orb
He sits triumphant, and, with fatal aim,
Involves whole squadrons in the sulph'rous storm.
Grimly exulting in the bloody fray.
Now on the crested helm or burnish'd shield,
He stamps new horrors; now the levell'd sword
With weightier force impells, with iron-hoof
Now tramples on th'expiring ranks; or gores
The foaming steed against th'opposing spear.
But chiefly on the cannon's brazen orb
He sits triumphant, and, with fatal aim,
Involves whole squadrons in the sulph'rous storm.
Then
Lindsey fell, nor from the shelt'ring straw,
Ceas'd he to plead his sov'reign's slighted cause
Amidst surrounding foes; nor but with life,
Expir'd his loyalty. His valiant son
Attempts his rescue, but attempts in vain!
Then Verney too, with many a gallant knight,
And faithful courtier, anxious for thy weal,
Unhappy Prince! but mindless of their own,
Pour'd out his life upon the crimson plain.
Then fell the gallant Stewart, Aubigny,
And Kingsmill! He whose monumental stone
Protects his neighb'ring ashes, and his fame.
Ceas'd he to plead his sov'reign's slighted cause
Amidst surrounding foes; nor but with life,
Expir'd his loyalty. His valiant son
Attempts his rescue, but attempts in vain!
Then Verney too, with many a gallant knight,
And faithful courtier, anxious for thy weal,
136
Pour'd out his life upon the crimson plain.
Then fell the gallant Stewart, Aubigny,
And Kingsmill! He whose monumental stone
Protects his neighb'ring ashes, and his fame.
The closing day compos'd the furious strife:
But for short time compos'd! anon to wake
With tenfold rage, and spread a wider scene
Of terror, and destruction o'er the land!
But for short time compos'd! anon to wake
With tenfold rage, and spread a wider scene
Of terror, and destruction o'er the land!
Now mark the glories of the great debate!
Yon' grass-green mount, where waves the planted pine,
And whispers to the winds the mournful tale,
Contains them in its monumental mould;
A slaughter'd crew, promiscuous lodg'd below!
Still as the plowman breaks the clotted glebe,
He ever and anon some trophy finds,
The
relicks of the war—or rusty spear,
Or canker'd ball; but, from sepulchral soil,
Cautious he turns aside the shining steel,
Lest haply, at its touch, uncover'd bones
Should start to view, and blast his rural toil.
Yon' grass-green mount, where waves the planted pine,
And whispers to the winds the mournful tale,
Contains them in its monumental mould;
A slaughter'd crew, promiscuous lodg'd below!
Still as the plowman breaks the clotted glebe,
He ever and anon some trophy finds,
137
Or canker'd ball; but, from sepulchral soil,
Cautious he turns aside the shining steel,
Lest haply, at its touch, uncover'd bones
Should start to view, and blast his rural toil.
Such were the fruits of Passion, froward Will,
And unsubmitting Pride! Worse storms than those
That rend the sky, and waste our cultur'd fields!
Strangers alike to man's primæval state,
Ere Evil entrance found to this fair world,
Permitted, not ordain'd, whatever Pride
May dream of order in a world of sin,
Or pre-existent soul, and penal doom
For crimes unknown. More wise, more happy he!
Who in his breast oft pond'ring, and perplext
With endless doubt, and learning's fruitless toil,
His weary mind at length reposes sure
On Heav'n's attested oracles. To them
Submiss he bows, convinc'd, however weak
His reason the mysterious plan to solve,
That all He wills is right, who, ere the worlds
Were form'd, in his all-comprehensive mind,
Saw all that was, or is, or e'er shall be.
Who to whate'er exists, or lives, or moves,
Throughout creation's wide extent, gave life,
Gave being, pow'r, and thought to act, to move
Impelling, or impell'd, to all ordain'd
Their ranks, relations, and dependencies,
And can direct, suspend, controul their pow'rs,
Else were he not supreme! Who bids the winds
Be still, and they obey; who to the sea
Assigns its bounds, and calms its boisterous waves.
Who, with like ease can moral discord rule,
And all apparent evil turn to good.
And unsubmitting Pride! Worse storms than those
That rend the sky, and waste our cultur'd fields!
Strangers alike to man's primæval state,
Ere Evil entrance found to this fair world,
Permitted, not ordain'd, whatever Pride
May dream of order in a world of sin,
Or pre-existent soul, and penal doom
For crimes unknown. More wise, more happy he!
Who in his breast oft pond'ring, and perplext
With endless doubt, and learning's fruitless toil,
His weary mind at length reposes sure
138
Submiss he bows, convinc'd, however weak
His reason the mysterious plan to solve,
That all He wills is right, who, ere the worlds
Were form'd, in his all-comprehensive mind,
Saw all that was, or is, or e'er shall be.
Who to whate'er exists, or lives, or moves,
Throughout creation's wide extent, gave life,
Gave being, pow'r, and thought to act, to move
Impelling, or impell'd, to all ordain'd
Their ranks, relations, and dependencies,
And can direct, suspend, controul their pow'rs,
Else were he not supreme! Who bids the winds
Be still, and they obey; who to the sea
Assigns its bounds, and calms its boisterous waves.
Who, with like ease can moral discord rule,
And all apparent evil turn to good.
Hail then, ye sons of Eve! th'unerring guide,
The sovereign grant receive, sin's antidote!
A cure for all our griefs! So heav'nly Truth
Shall wide display her captivating charms,
And Peace her dwelling fix with human race.
So Love thro' ev'ry clime his gentle reign
Shall spread, and at his call discordant realms
Shall beat their swords to plowshares, and their spears
To pruning-hooks, nor more learn murth'rous war.
So when revolving years, by Heav'n's decree,
Their circling course have run, new firmaments,
With blessings fraught, shall fill the bright expanse,
Of tempests void, and thunder's angry voice.
New verdure shall arise to cloathe the fields:
New Edens! teeming with immortal fruit!
No more the wing'd inhabitants of air
Or those that range the fields, or skim the flood,
Their fierceness shall retain, but brute with brute,
And all with man in amicable league
Shall join, and enmity for ever cease.
The sovereign grant receive, sin's antidote!
A cure for all our griefs! So heav'nly Truth
Shall wide display her captivating charms,
And Peace her dwelling fix with human race.
139
Shall spread, and at his call discordant realms
Shall beat their swords to plowshares, and their spears
To pruning-hooks, nor more learn murth'rous war.
So when revolving years, by Heav'n's decree,
Their circling course have run, new firmaments,
With blessings fraught, shall fill the bright expanse,
Of tempests void, and thunder's angry voice.
New verdure shall arise to cloathe the fields:
New Edens! teeming with immortal fruit!
No more the wing'd inhabitants of air
Or those that range the fields, or skim the flood,
Their fierceness shall retain, but brute with brute,
And all with man in amicable league
Shall join, and enmity for ever cease.
Remains there aught to crown the rapt'rous theme?
'Tis this, unfading joy, beyond the reach
Of elemental worlds, and short-liv'd time.
This too is yours—from outward sense conceal'd,
But, by resemblance of external things,
Inward display'd, to elevate the soul
To thoughts sublime, and point her way to Heav'n.
'Tis this, unfading joy, beyond the reach
Of elemental worlds, and short-liv'd time.
This too is yours—from outward sense conceal'd,
But, by resemblance of external things,
Inward display'd, to elevate the soul
To thoughts sublime, and point her way to Heav'n.
140
So, from the top of Nebo's lofty mount,
The patriot-leader of Jehovah's sons
The promis'd land survey'd; to Canaan's race
A splendid theatre of frantic joys,
And fatal mirth, beyond whose scanty bounds
Darkness, and horror dwell! Emblem to him
Of fairer fields, and happier seats above!
Then closed his eyes to mortal scenes, to wake
In the bright regions of eternal day.
The patriot-leader of Jehovah's sons
The promis'd land survey'd; to Canaan's race
A splendid theatre of frantic joys,
And fatal mirth, beyond whose scanty bounds
Darkness, and horror dwell! Emblem to him
Of fairer fields, and happier seats above!
Then closed his eyes to mortal scenes, to wake
In the bright regions of eternal day.
Dame Hester Temple, of whom this is recorded by Fuller, in his account of Buckinghamshire, and who lies buried, with many of that ancient family, in the parish-church of Burton-Dasset.
The Canal design'd for a communication between the Cities of Oxford and Coventry, passes through Brinklow, where is a magnificent aqueduct, consisting of twelve arches, with a high bank of earth at each end, crossing a valley beneath the vestiges of a Roman camp, and tumulus, on the Foss-Way.
“Sæpe etiam immensum cælo venit agmen aquarum,
“Et fædam glomerant tempestatem imbribus atris
“Collectæ ex alto nubes; ruit arduus æther,
“Et pluviâ ingenti sata læta, boumque labores
“Diluit.”
“Et fædam glomerant tempestatem imbribus atris
“Collectæ ex alto nubes; ruit arduus æther,
“Et pluviâ ingenti sata læta, boumque labores
“Diluit.”
Virg.
“Non tam creber agens hyemem ruit æthere turbo,
“Quam multæ pecudum pestes, nec singula morbi
“Corpora corripiunt, sed tota æstiva repentè
“Spemque, gregemque simul, cunctamque ab origine gentem.”
“Quam multæ pecudum pestes, nec singula morbi
“Corpora corripiunt, sed tota æstiva repentè
“Spemque, gregemque simul, cunctamque ab origine gentem.”
Virg.
The Right Hon. the Earl of Northampton, who died on his return from an embassy to Venice, while the Author was writing this poem.
Kineton, alias Kington. So called, as some conjecture, from a castle on a neighbouring hill, said to have been a palace belonging to King John.
| Poems, moral and descriptive | |