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THRYBERG.

Scenes of my thoughtless youth! here are ye all;
Dalton! and Dalton school! and Dalton Deign!
But changed ye are! or I am. Mean and small
Ye seem, and humbled. Sunk into the plain,
The hill is dwarf'd with age. Its coronal
The glen hath lost, its ferny plumes, and, more
Than these, its freedom! Thryberg's verdant wall
Is here, and here the oak I knew of yore;
But who, to me, their grandeur can restore?
My heart hath made them bankrupt. Where they stood

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Stand Wentworth's halls; but not, as heretofore,
Portall'd for gods. O far-known Silverwood!
O cavern'd Ravensfield! Don, flowing o'er
A narrower bed, bathes now a tamer shore.