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TO THE RIGHT HON. THE COUNTESS OF DERBY.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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75

TO THE RIGHT HON. THE COUNTESS OF DERBY.

[_]

The Countess refused the dedication of “Clifton Grove,” in kind and complimentary language; and enclosed a 2l. note as her subscription to the work upon its publication. The following lines were sent by the Author with her ladyship's copy.

In the dark coverts of the forest shade,
By scathed oaks, and haunted streamlets laid;
What time the moon uprose her clouds among,
The Muse, unheeded, poured her lonely song.
Unheard she sung, save when to Fancy's eye,—
Pale Vesper, stooping from the spangled sky,
Would listen, silent,—or with distant swell
Sequestered Echo answered from her cell.—
When shrinking timid from the obtrusive gaze,
She first explored the world's observant maze;
Who smiled benignant on her artless way?
Who opened first the patron's fostering ray?
Who bade her fears, her throbbing tremors flee,
Who, thrice revered Derby!—who but thee?
Oh! that for thee her strains might boast the power
To soothe the tedium of one weary hour;
To bid the gloom on mourning's brow retire,
Or wake to energy one slumbering fire.—
Might they one transitory smile excite,
Or raise one trivial image of delight;

76

Then, though the critic with contemptuous pride
Should the faint murmurs of her lyre deride;
Still would she boast her guerdon, passing great,
Content that Derby owns her lays are sweet.