The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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AIREDALE'S BEAUTIES. |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
AIREDALE'S BEAUTIES.
Poets in varied verse may sing
The rivers, vales, and hills,
The dimpled lake, the crystal spring,
The groves and rippling rills;
The rivers, vales, and hills,
The dimpled lake, the crystal spring,
The groves and rippling rills;
The ancient domes, the lofty tow'rs,
The moss-robed ruins grey,
The sylvan shades, the rosy bow'rs,
Where native beauties play.
The moss-robed ruins grey,
The sylvan shades, the rosy bow'rs,
Where native beauties play.
To those and twice ten thousand more,
The lyre has often rung;
But since the ancient bards gave o'er,
Was ever Airedale sung?
The lyre has often rung;
But since the ancient bards gave o'er,
Was ever Airedale sung?
174
Why, O, ye youths—ye virgins fair,
Have you so long been mute?
Nor touched it with some lovely air
To tremble on the lute?
Have you so long been mute?
Nor touched it with some lovely air
To tremble on the lute?
Are there no beauties glowing round,
No Heliconian springs,
No echoes, answering ev'ry sound,
To animate your strings?
No Heliconian springs,
No echoes, answering ev'ry sound,
To animate your strings?
No scenes where mountains' lofty heads
Like famed Parnassus rise?
No crystal streams, on pebbly beds,
Reflecting half the skies?
Like famed Parnassus rise?
No crystal streams, on pebbly beds,
Reflecting half the skies?
No rocks soft cushioned o'er with moss,
As sofas for the fair?
No daisy-spangled meads to cross,
Within the vale of Aire?
As sofas for the fair?
No daisy-spangled meads to cross,
Within the vale of Aire?
Yes! here are bow'rs where eglantines
The fragrant roses bear;
And here the honeysuckle twines,
Perfuming sweet the air.
The fragrant roses bear;
And here the honeysuckle twines,
Perfuming sweet the air.
The lilacs and laburnums wave
Each beauteous flow'ry plume;
And evergreens, that winter brave,
The healthful breeze perfume.
Each beauteous flow'ry plume;
And evergreens, that winter brave,
The healthful breeze perfume.
175
Here are green woods, and springs, and bow'rs,
And purple-vestured hills,
And fields, in yellow robes of flow'rs,
Made bright with glitt'ring rills.
And purple-vestured hills,
And fields, in yellow robes of flow'rs,
Made bright with glitt'ring rills.
The crimson-crested grouse are there,
The whirring partridge grey,
The pheasants haunt the fountains clear,
And frisking leverets play.
The whirring partridge grey,
The pheasants haunt the fountains clear,
And frisking leverets play.
The treble sings the lark on high,
In tenor joins the thrush;
The bass the mellow blackbirds try
Upon the blossomed bush.
In tenor joins the thrush;
The bass the mellow blackbirds try
Upon the blossomed bush.
How sweet the scent the zephyrs bring
From fields of clover white!
Not gardens of an Eastern king
Can yield him such delight.
From fields of clover white!
Not gardens of an Eastern king
Can yield him such delight.
But not the heather's crimson bloom
Can with the cheeks compare,
Of those sweet maids, who nought assume,—
The nymphs of Yorkshire Aire!
Can with the cheeks compare,
Of those sweet maids, who nought assume,—
The nymphs of Yorkshire Aire!
Great Nature's hand has decked the scene
With silv'ry rich cascades;
But what had all these beauties been,
Without the lovely maids?
With silv'ry rich cascades;
But what had all these beauties been,
Without the lovely maids?
176
The cowslip meads, the daisied fields,
The fragrant rosy bow'rs,
And all the sweets the valley yields,
When spring descends in show'rs,
The fragrant rosy bow'rs,
And all the sweets the valley yields,
When spring descends in show'rs,
Are all outshone with lovely maids,
That bloom when these grow pale,
Whose virtues live when beauty fades,—
The glory of the vale.
That bloom when these grow pale,
Whose virtues live when beauty fades,—
The glory of the vale.
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |