Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) ::

Athelhamton House; or, as it is more commonly called, Admiston House, near Piddletown, in Dorsetshire, is a singularly unmutilated specimen of medieval architecture. The house, with the interior of its hall, is given in Nash's “Mansions of England in the Olden Time.”

O once dear home of those that told
Their days in unknown years of old,
Here thoughtful let me wander round
Thy long-worn floors, and hallow'd ground;
Where still thy gloomy arches spread
O'er unseen footsteps of the dead;—
Where once thy lodge's op'ning gate
Swung slowly back, with creaking weight,
When, vassal-girt, thy lord drew near
With clinking mail, and long-beam'd spear,—
And round thy mossy walls with stains
Of twice two hundred winters' rains,—
And hall where merry-worded tongue
And sweetly-singing voice once rung;—
And ladies' bow'r, where beauty blest,
With smiles, the young heart now at rest;
And still, from painted windows, brood
The glowing sunlights, rainbow-hued.
When first the wind-bent timber grew
Around thy walls all fair and new,

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And bow-neck'd steeds bore out the train
Of merry hunters to the plain,
No gun's light thunder, rolling wide,
Struck wave-wash'd rock, or green hill-side;
But from the hand uplifted high,
The hawk soar'd upwards to the sky,
And on his quarry, from afar,
Shot downward like a falling star.
Among the flow'rs thy garden knew
Of sweetest smell, or gayest hue,
To set off beauty's living bloom,
Or spend their odour in her room;
No cactus blush'd, no dahlia tall
Yet bow'd to suns of dewy fall;
No tall magnolia rose to spread
Her high-borne blossoms over head;
No Fuchsia's scarlet tassels fell;
And, overlook'd in woody dell,
The hearts-ease had not come to spread
Her colours on thy garden bed,
Where marigolds came forth below
The lily, white as driven snow.
And some would tell us now, with praise
Reserved alone for latter days,
That, since for those whose love has clung
To thee, grey pile, when thou wast young,
No coach yet bore its living load
Its hundred fast-told miles of road,
Nor smoke-trail'd steam-car, engine-sped,
Outstripp'd the wild-bird overhead,

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Nor senseless wheels could yet fulfil
The hand's hard tasks of strength and skill;
So their cold hearts were far below
The happiness that ours may know!
O had they then no air that shook
The green-leav'd bough above the brook?
No flow'ry meads? no high-bough'd copse?
No airy shades of elm-tree tops?
No summer days, with health to ride
O'er downs and dingles far and wide?
No winter-mirth within their walls?
No crackling fires within their halls?
Had love no smile, and joy no tongue?
Had no sweet voices ever sung?
And had no mother yet a child
To clasp in fondness when he smiled?
O you whom that light oriel
Held smiling once, come back and tell,
That we may set our richer store
Of happiness by yours of yore.
You left that oriel behind,
Man's love-built gift to woman's mind,
That she, although the fairest share
Of gayest sights, might see them there.
O woman, heart-enthralling queen
Of fairest beings eyes have seen,
In thee a loving God bestows
The best of blessings man e'er knows.
When, walking in thy maiden grace
With purest thought, and fairest face,

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And leading him to rise above
Unworthy deeds to win thy love,
Or blessing, through a toilsome life,
His trying days, a faithful wife;
Or moulding, with thy soft controul,
To goodness, childhood's love-train'd soul.
Where amber sunlight, in the glade,
Breaks, streaming, through the green bough's shade
While softly-wheeling eddies gleam
Below the rock upon the stream,
All still is dead, though winning fair,
Till fancy sets thine image there,
The brightest gem, and fairer found
Thus set in all that's bright around.
Have not thy portals opened wide,
Grey pile, before the coming bride?
And has no daughter left with tears
Thy roof, the home of maiden years?
How fondly yearns my heart to know
Thy many tales of joy and woe;
And though they all are lost, grey pile,
May man still spare thee to beguile
Some other soul, when mine is fled,
With touching fancies of thy dead.

University of Virginia Library

ATHELHAMTON HOUSE.