iJ^&Z&Z^ Book_5_«JSsL_ BIDCOMBE HILL, A DESCRIPTIVE POEM; TO WHICH IS PREFIXED AN ESSAY ON LOCAL POETRY. BIDCOMBE HILL, A RURAL AND DESCRIPTIVE POEM. SECOND EDITION. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED AN ' ESSAY ON By FRANCIS SKURRAY, B.D. M RECTOR OF W1NTERBOURNE-ABBAS, DORSET. -gracili modulatus avenS Carmen. virc., LONDON. CADELL, STRAND. 1824. nt*£< .%"* y> \0fc\2. ta (.ROCKERS, PRINTERS, FRO ME. TO THE MARCHIONESS OF BATH, Madam, 1 feel flattered by your polite acquiescence in my wish to present these pages at the tribunal of taste and criticism, under the auspicious influence of your Ladyship's protection. The composition of them has served as a relaxa- tion from the severity of professional studies, and has agreeably relieved those intervals of leisure which not. infrequently occur in sequestered retire- ment. The perusal of them may furnish a few hours of harmless employment to unoccupied minds. Per- //. haps it may excite in some breasts the glow of be- nevolence or the ardour of patriotism. Whatever may be their destiny in these respects, they will at least supply me with an opportunity of subscribing myself, ivith sentiments of deference and esteem, 'Your Ladyship's Obliged and honoured Servant, FRANCIS SKURRAY. Cssay ON LOCAL POETRY. ESSAY ON LOCAL POETRY, Quis tamen affirmat nil actum in Montibus ? Juv. Sat. 6. 58. lVlANY of the Arts which aggrandize Life, and some of the Elegancies which embellish Literature, owe their discovery to our enterpri- zing countrymen. Amongst their pretensions to the latter distinction, is the production of Local Poetry, which derives its lineage from an Anglican original. It is singular that this species of compo- sition was unknown in the era of classical Mythology, when " a Triton ruPd on every angry billow, every mountain had its Nymph, every stream its Naiad, every tree its Hama- dryad, and every art its Genius." Denham is a name of no mean consider- ation in the annals of our National Poetry. b 2 ® ESSAY ON In a period of uncouth and semi-barbarous phraseology, his stile exemplified polish in conjunction with strength, and richness un- encumbered with redundancy. It resembled the River which he described so magnificently, " Tho' deep yet clear, tho' gentle yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'erflowing, full." The merit however of refining, harmonizing, and enriching our language by brilliant, smooth^ and exuberant versification, is shared by Wal- ler, Dryden, and Roscommon. The title which Denham has established for pre-emi- nence, is derived from his invention of a new class in the nomenclature of Poetry. " Cooper's Hill," observes our great critic, " is the work that confers on Denham the rank and dignity of an original author. He seems to have been, at least among us, the author of a species of composition that may be denominated Local Poetry ; of which the fundamental subject is some particular Land- scape to be poetically described, with the LOCAL POETRY. 9 addition of such embellishments as may be supplied by historical retrospection or inci- dental meditation." Thus, as the study of Homer's Iliad fur- nished Aristotle with his canons of criticism for the conduct of Heroic, so from Denham's " Cooper's Hill" have rules been deduced for the construction of Local Poetry. Under this generical term may be compre^ hended all manner of metrical Topography ; but this Essay will include only that species of it which gave rise to the denomination, viz. Poems which have Hills exclusively for their title, and circumjacent scenery for their objects. Few recreations are so exhilarating as to ascend some eminence And see the country tar diffus'd around One boundless blush, one white empurpled shower Of mingled blossoms, where the raptur'd eye Hurries from joy to joy." The origin of Mountains and Hills has been attributed to the operation of different causes. 10 ESSAY ON Some Geologists ascribe them to volcanic eruptions; others to diluvial action, and some deem them of original formation, Enveloped in equal uncertainty is the boundary, where emi- nences lose the denomination of Hills, and assume the distinction of Mountains. Their utility and beauty are however indisputable. By their interception of vapours, they give rise to springs, fountains, and rivers. A view of them diversifies Landscapes, awes the mind, and exalts, whilst it interests, the imagination. " At Summer's eve when Heaven's aerial bow Spans with bright arch the glittering Hills below, Why to yon Mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sun-bright summit mingles with the sky ? Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the Landscape smiling near ? 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the Mountain iu its azure hue. Thus with delight we linger to survey The promis'd joys of life's unmeasur'd way ; Thus from afar each dim-discover'd scene More pleasing seems than all the past hath been ; And every form, that Fancy can repair From dark oblivion, glows divinely there." Persons and Places owe their appellations te LOCAL POETRY. 11 local altitude. The most ancient inhabitants of Greece were denominated Pelasgi, from living on the ridges of Thessaly, in the same manner as Highlanders are designated from their occu- pancy of the Hebrides. Palestine, which is generally deriv'd from Philistine, is of moun- tainous etymology. A greater degree of Local affection is manifested by the habitants of bleak and exposed situations, than by resi- dents in vallies. The Cottagers of Gaer-Hill, which is the apex of S el wood Forest, exem- plify this attachment. They quit their favor- ite spot with regret, and return to it with avidity. A departure, or return, is matter of condolence or congratulation to the patriar- chal community. I have witnessed, and been informed of, these symptoms of provincial predilection, in my rambles to that sylvan and secluded district. " Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot passion on his heart ; And e'en those hills that round his mansion rise., Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. 12 ESSAY ON Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And deai* that Hill which lifts him to the storms ; And as a child when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, So the loud torrent and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more." Mountains and Hills carry with them at- tractions congenial to human feelings. They are frequent objects of visitation, and, in the progress of their ascent, disclose fresh apr pearances, and give rise to varied reflections. " The mountains lessening as they rise, Lose the low vales and steal into the skies ; While curling smokes from village tops are seen, And the fleet shades glide o'er the dusky green.*' On gaining their summits, a new train of ideas and feelings is generated by aerial lo- cality, and from giddy circumspection. " How oft upon yon eminence our pace Has slacken'd to a pause, and we have borne The ruffling wind, scarce conscious that it blew j While admiration, feeding at the eye, And still unsated, dwelt upon the scene." But the busy soul will not content itself with terrestrial objects. By a natural buoyancy it LOCAL POETRY. 13 will ascend and wing its contemplations to the everlasting Creator. " 'Ere Mountains, Woods, or Streams adorn'd the Globe, Or Wisdom taught the sons of men her lore ; Then liv'd the Almighty One ; then deep-retir'd In His unfathom'd essence, view'd the forms, The forms eternal, of created things ; The radiant Sun, the Moon's nocturnal lamp, The Mountains, Woods, and Streams, the rolling Globe, And Wisdom's mien celestial. — Hence the green Earth and wild-resounding Waves, Hence light and shade alternate, warmth and cold, And clear Autumnal skies and vernal showers, And all the fair variety of things." On summits which mingle with the clouds, we seem to be in attendance on Deity, to "draw empyreal air;" to tread on the confines of a Temple not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. — 2 Cor. v. 1. The enraptured son of Beor exclaimed, from the top of the rocks I see Him, and from the Hills I behold Him. Numb, xxiii. 9. The sweet singer of Israel thus implores from Deity the honor of an earthly visitation ; bow Thy Heavens, O Lord, and come down ; touch the Mountains and they 14 ESSAY ON shall smoke. — Ps. cxliv. 5. The supposition formerly prevailed that the Almighty resided in elevated situations : this is God's Hill, in vjhich it pleaseth Him to dwell; yea the Lord will abide in it for ever. — Ps. lxviii. 16. J will lift up mine eyes unto the Hills, from whence cometh my help. — Ps. cxxi. 1. I did call upon the Lord with my voice, and He heard me out of His holy Hill. — Ps. iii. 4. J will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the earth, and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father, for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. — Is : lviii. 14. When the Almighty is represented dis^ playing His terror, the lofty places of the earth are in requisition to swell the language of inspiration: the mountains quake at Him, and the Hills melt. — Nahum i. 5. When thanksgiving was to be ofTered for protection and deliverance, the ransomed were to come and sing in the Height of Zion. — Jer. xxxi. 12. And when the inspired bard summons inani- LOCAL POETRY. 15 mate objects to glorify the Creator, he breaks forth into the pathetic invocation, Mountains and all Hills praise the name of the Lord, for His name only is excellent and His praise above Heaven and Earth. — Ps : cxlviii. 9. — 12. Moral as well as Religious reflections may be deduced from the contemplation of Hills. Fame is described sitting on an eminence from whence she summons her votaries to glory, thro' panting exertions, whilst Infamy is represented in the valley of soft and voluptuous enjoyment. " Here Virtue's rough ascent, There Pleasure's flowery way." There is native and superinduced energy in Man to forego debasing indulgencies, and attain the heights of distinction; and moun- tainous steeps produce, by association, these moral reminiscences. " The Soul has power to climb To all the Heights sublime Of Virtue's towering Hill ; At whose low feet weak -warbling strays The scanty stream of human praise, A shallow trickling rill." 16 ESSAY ON When the mind has been familiarized with sublimity, it will condescend to the cognizance of inferior circumstances ; it will survey the rallies beneath and glance on the objects be- yond them, carelessly shifting the view, " From house to house, from hill to hill, 'Till contemplation has her fill." Curiosity is heightened into enthusiasm, and Sensibility, participates of rapture, when to beauties of nature and art, the landscape superadds memorials of ancient faith or monu- ments of valorous atchievement. The Bard avails himself of the occasions to seize subjects for song, which he will mould into form and vivify with the inspirations of Genius. The founder of Local Poetry no doubt experienced congeniality of sentiment when he traversed the eminence which he was des- tined to immortalize. " Sweetly on yon poetic Hill Strains of unearthly music breathe, Where Denham's spirit, hovering still, Weaves his wild harp's aerial wreath." LOCAL POETRY. 17 What an assemblage of grand and interest- ing objects presented themselves to his select- ion ? At a distance he described the Metropo- litan Cathedral. In the opposite direction Windsor burst conspicuously on his view, the birth-place and dormitory of a race of Poten- tates. Space would be wanting were I " To recount those several Kings to whom It gave a cradle, and to whom a tomb." There too Edward III. instituted that order ©f chivalry i ' Which foreign Kings and Emperors esteem The second honour to their diadem." In the valley winds the majestic Thames, " Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, Like mortal life to meet Eternity." In a nearer point of view, he beheld Runny- mede spreading its verdant lawn, where in the year 1215 Liberty became the chartered inheri- tance of Barons, Clergy and Commonalty. However extraneous to the general purport of this Essay, yet not wholly unconnected with 18 ESSAY ON this particular portion of it, is the expression of regret at our destitution of national monu- ments, to memorize important events, to illus- trate loyal attachment, and to kindle patriotic enthusiasm. However great Britain may rival more ancient nations in Literature and arms, yet is she exceeded by the Promethean fire of their Sculpture, and the imposing magnificence of their public edifices. The Parthenon at Athens, and the Coliseum at Rome, will leave no parallels in the posthumous history of England. Let our Monarch, Nobles, and rich Commoners, aggrandize their country by patronizing liberal arts. Let them emulate the fame by acting in the spirit of Augustus, who found Rome of brick and left it of marble. But to return to my subject. Why does not some ponderous column pierce the clouds from Runnymede, inscribed on one side with the declaration of the Barons, " Nolumus leges Angliae mutari," and on the reverse, with those matchless lines LOCAL POETRY. ]9 of our bard, where Loyalty, Patriotism, and Poetry, strive for pre-eminence? "Here was that Charter sign'd, wherein the Crown All marks of arbitrary power laid down ; Tyrant and Slave, those names of hate and fear, The happier stile of King and subject bear ; Happy when both to the same centre move, When Kings give liberty, and subjects love." Such is the origin of Local Poetry, and such are the observations connected with its archetype. No wonder that Denham, with such fit and ample materials, constructed a fabric of verse of a new order, or that a style of poesy, which his imagination had planned, was accomplished by his genius. " Ye sacred nine, that all my soul possess, Whose raptures fire, and whose visions bless, Bear me, bear me, to sequester'd scenes, The bowery mazes and surrounding greens ; To Thames' banks, which frequent breezes fill, Or where ye Muses sport on Cooper's Hill. On Cooper's Hill eternal wreaths shall grow, While lasts the Mountain and while Thames shall flow. I seem thro' consecrated walks to rove, I hear soft music die along the grove ; 20 ESSAY ON Led by the sound, I roam from shade to shade, By god-like Poets, venerable made : Here his first lays majestic Denham sung ; There the last numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue. Since fate relentless stopp'd their heavenly voice No more the forest rings or groves rejoice. Who now shall charm the shades where Cowley strung His living harp, and lofty Denham sung ? But hark ! the groves rejoice, the forest rings ! Are these reviv'd?" It was to be expected that a new denomi- nation of verse, commencing under happy auspices, would prove the parent of a numer- ous progeny. The author of "the Fleece" succeeded Denham in the production of Local Poetry, by selecting an eminence of the Prin- cipality, as a subject for illustration. " Grongar Hill invite my song, Draw the landscape bright and strong ; Grongar, in whose mossy cells, Sweetly musing, Quiet dwells." Grongar Hill occupies a space between Cardigan and Llandilo. It overlooks the vale of Towy, admired for its beauty and distin- guished by its fruitfulness. The mountainous ramparts, by which it is environed, LOCAL POETRY. 21 '" Withdraw their summits from the skies And lessen as the others rise." But the most interesting object in the land- Scape, is the fragment of a baronial fortress. How shall we account for the excitement of those sweetly-pensive feelings which accompany the contemplation of ruins? " To Time the praise is due ; his gradual touch Has moulder'd into beauty many a tower, Which, when it frown 'd with all its battlements, Was only terrible : and many a fane Monastic, which, when deck'd with all its spires, Serv'd but to feed some pamper'd Abbot's pride And awe the unletter'd vulgar." The Tourist will deviate from his path and traverse intricate recesses to discover a tottering edifice of olden times, whilst he will scarcely deign a look, or hint an enquiry, on contiguous mansions, which rear their crests in undimin- ished magnificence. " The stern grandeur of a gothic tower Awes us less deeply in its morning hour, Than when the shades of Time serenely fall On every broken arch and ivied wall ; The tender images we lov'd to trace, Steal from each year a melancholy grace." 22 ESSAY ON The spectacle of castellated remains, revives too in the imagination festivals with cumbrous hospitality, and pastimes of chivalrous adventure. " Time has seen that lifts the low And level lays the haughty brow, Has seen this broken pile complete, Big with the vanity of state ; But transient is the smile of fate. A little rule, a little sway, A sunshine in a winter's day, Is all the proud and mighty have Between the cradle and the grave." " Grongar Hill " is the shortest of all Local Poems, but ranks in next gradation to " Cooper's Hill," not only in date, but popularity. In ac- cordance with the rule which has been pre- scribed by authority, the poet deals more in picturesque delineation, than in moral reflections. " Before me trees unnumbered rise, Beautiful in various dies : The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, The yellow beech, the sable yew ; The slender fir, that taper grows, The sturdy oak, with broad-spread boughs ; And beyond, the purple grove, Haunt of Phillis, Queen of Love." LOCAL POETRY. £3 After this analysis of "Grongar Hill," it would be unreasonable to trespass on the reader's patience by additional citations or protracted criticism. A trial of its character has been instituted, and judgment pronounced by the president of an authoritative tribunal. " Grongar Hill " (observes Dr. Johnson) " is the happiest of Dyer's productions : it is not indeed very accurately written, but the scenes which it displays are so pleasing, the images which they raise so welcome to the mind, and the reflections of the writer so consonant to the general sense or experience of mankind, that when it is once read, it will be read again." Pass we on to the consideration of "Faringdon Hill," which was published in the year 1774, and reprinted in 1787. " To Faringdon's illustrious Hill, On which Parnassian dews distil, Ye southern Muses bend ; And there salute with proud acclaim, In him, who gave that Hill to Fame, The Poet and the Friend." C 2, 24 ESSAY ON 111 reviewing examples of pious and loyal exertions during a public crisis, the late Laureate presents himself to grateful recollection. His harp aroused timidity into effort, and rekindled the dying embers of patriotism. But my busi- ness with Mr. Pye is not in his elevation as the Lyric Bard, b«t in his privacy as a Local Poet. His " Faringdon Hill" is introduced with this glowing description : " Now with meridian force the orb of day, Pours on our throbbing heads his sultry ray. O'er the wide concave of the blue serene, No fleecy cloud or vapoury mist is seen ; The panting flocks and herds at ease reclin'd, Catch the faint eddies of the flitting wind ; To silence hush'd is every rural sound, And noon-tide spreads a solemn stillness round. Alike our languid limbs would now forsake The open meadow and the tangled brake ; Here Sol intensely glows, and there the trees Mix their thick foliage and exclude the breeze. Come let us quit these scenes aud climb yon brow, Yon airy summit where the zephyrs blow ; While waving o'er our heads the welcome shade Shuts out the sunbeams from the upland glade. No steep ascent we scale with feverish toil, No rocks alarm us and no mountains foil : LOCAL POETRY. £5 TBut as we gently tread the rising green, Large and more large extends the spacious scene, 'Till on the verdant top our labour crown'd, The wide horizon is oar only bound." The manly sentiments , which Mr. Pye has developed in his poem, do honour to his dis- cernment and patriotism. He dwells with animation on the benefit which results to the health and spirits by the hardy and congenial pleasures of the chace, and censures those effeminate Bards who vituperate athletic exercises: " Too much the enervate Bards of modern days, Attune to slothful ease their moral lays ; The seats of ancient lore their favourite theme, Lyceum's shade and hoary Academe ; Forgetful that the Stadium's hardy toil, The boxer's coestus and the wrestler's oil, Sent Grecia's heroes forth a vigorous train, ,Learn'd in the schools and victors o'er the plain." As the prospect from Faringdon Hill com- prehends towns, mansions, and rivers, the Poet seizes these and other prominent objects in the landscape, and particularizes each variety in harmonious numbers. %0 ESSAY ON The life of our Poet was spared to a good old age, and he realized the fond expectation expressed in his Local Poem: — " And lovely Faringdon, my voice shall still, Or in thy groves, or on this healthful Hill, In rustic numbers sing the happy plains, Where Freedom triumphs and where Brunswick reigns." The fourth place in the series of Local Poems, is occupied by the "Lewesdon Hill" of the Rev. William Crowe, who holds a respect- able rank in elegant Literature. He received his early and matured education in the two St. Mary Colleges of Winton and Oxford, and is esteemed no unworthy pupil in the school of the Wartons. On induction to the Rectory of Stoke Abbas, he resided in the vicinity of Lewesdon Hill, which, had not his Muse selected it for celebration, would have remained undis- tinguished amongst the unsung promontories of that interesting region. This eminence is h> vested with plantations, but whether to the improvement or diminution of its beauty is matter of controversy. LOCAL POETRY. £7 * l Does then the song forbid the planter's hand To clothe the distant hills and veil with wood Their barren summits ? No, it but forbids All poverty of clothing. Rich the robe, And ample let it flow, that virtue wears On her thron'd eminence." .Others deem, that Hills, like " loveliness, Need not the foreign aid of ornament ; But are when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most." Our Author represents himself ascending the summit of his Hill in the vernal season, his morning exercise. After expatiating with in^ genuity on *< The beauties of its woodland scene at each return of Spring," He condemns the taste which prefers Nature in her tendency to decay. " Some fondly gaze On fading colours and the thousand tints Which Autumn lays upon the varying leaf. I like them not, for all their boasted hues Are kin to sickliness ; mortal decay Is drinking up their vital juice ; that gone, They turn to sear and yellow. Should I praise Such false complexions and for beauty take A look consumption bred ? As soon, if grey Were mix'd in young Louisa's tresses brown, I'd call it beautiful variety, And therefore doat on her." 28 ESSAYON When groves and woodlands are subjected to a change of foliage, we are entered upon a season which should be assimilated to the wan aspect of declining life, and which should con- sequently impress us with respect bordering on veneration. Similitude to " consumption/ 7 which is premature decay, and to jrey Mix'd in young Louisa's tresses brown," furnish unapt, partial, and inadequate subjects of comparison with that period of the year when we 1 " Catch the last smiles Of Autumn beaming in the yellow woods/' The rich variety and the soft gradation of tints in the old age of vegetation are calculated, in the opinion of an eminent and experienced Poet, to awaken mental energy and invigorate the Muse's inspirations : — " When Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world, And tempts the fickle swain into the field, Seiz'd by the general joy, his heart distends With gentle throes, and thro' the tepid gleams Deep musing, then he best exerts his song.'' LOCAL POETRY. 29 The description of the Rivulet which bubbles from the side of the Hill, abounds with passages of striking elegance and pathos : — " How soon thy infant stream will lose itself In the salt mass of waters, 'ere it grow To name or greatness ! yet it flows along Untainted with the commerce of the world, Nor passing hy the noisy haunts of men ; But thro' sequester'd meads, a little space Winds secretly, and in its wanton path May cheer some drooping flower, or minister Of its cold water to the thirsty lamb : Then falls into the ravenous sea, as pure As when it issued from its native hill." The name of Crowe has been long associated with ardent love of civil liberty. It is not therefore to be wondered, if he made part of his poem the vehicle of political sentiment by complimenting Washington on American In- dependence, and by sympathizing with Paoli on Corsican subjugation. It would extend this essay to an unwarrantable length were inquiries instituted into other parts of this ingenious production. Besides our attention is demanded to the consideration of another specimen of Local Poetry. 30 ESSAY ON Foreigners of distinction, who visit our Coun- try, are usually conducted to Richmond Hill, in order to view from one spot the concentrated beauties of English Landscape. " Fair Groves and Villas glittering bright, Arise on Richmond's beauteous height j Where yet fond echo warbles o'er The Heaven-taught songs she learnt of yore.'' Is it not surprising that this enchanting eminence should have remained so many years without particular celebration ? The author of " Indian Antiquities" stept forward in 1807, to remove the opprobrium from the sons of song. Sheen was its ancient designation, which is expressive of elevation and conspicuity. It derived its present appellation from the Earl of Richmond, who gained the crown by victory in Bos worth Field, and mounted the Throne, as Henry VII. It is observed by Hollinshed in his Chronicon, that " the Kings of the Land being wearie of the City, used customarily thither to resorte as to a place of pleasure, and serving highly to their recreation." LOCAL POETRY. 31 Henry V. founded a Monastery at Sheen, as well as a Nunnery at Sion, to expiate a foul murder, (such was the credulity of the times) through which he inherited the crown. Our dramatic Bard, who well knew to suit the word to the action, represents the King as resorting to pathetic deprecation, precedent to the battle of Agincourt: " not to day, O Lord, O not to day ! think thou upon the fault My Father made in compassing the crown. I, Richard's body have interr'd anew, And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears Than from it issu'd forced drops of blood. Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay, Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold up Towards Heaven to pardon blood, and I have built Two Chauntries, where the sad and solemn Priests Still sing for Richard's soul." Richmond was the favoured residence of Queen Elizabeth. It was too the scene of her agonized death on discovering the Countess of Nottingham's treachery, which had consigned her Essex to the will of his enemies. 32 ESSAY ON Thus, Richmond not only accumulates at- tractions of scenery, but is rich in such Historical reminiscences as are adapted for the develope- ment of talent and the application of reflections. That its delineation was assumed by competent talent will be proved by extract: " Loveliest of Hills that rise in glory round, With swelling Domes and glittering Villas crown'd ; For loftier tho' majestic Windsor tower, The richer Landscape's thine, the nobler bower. Imperial seat of ancient grandeur hail ! Rich diamond sparkling in a golden vale j Or vivid emerald, whose serener rays Beam mildly forth with mitigated blaze, And 'mid the splendors of an ardent sky, With floods of verdant light refresh the eye ; Richmond, still welcome to my longing sight, Of a long race of Kings, the proud delight ; Of old the sainted Sage, thy groves admir'd, When with devotion's hallow'd transport fir'd. From Sheen's monastic gloom thy brow he sought, And on its summit paus'd in raptur'd thought ; Stretch'd to the horizon's bound his ardent gaze, And hymn'd aloud the great Creator's praise." The costliness in which " Richmond Hill" was published, has precluded its merits from general diffusion. It is hoped that it will be LOCAL POETRY. 33 re-printed in a form accessible to all the Lovers of Poetry. The last Poem in local classification is " Bid- combe Hill," which follows this dissertation. It derives its denomination from an eminence which forms one of the western boundaries of Salisbury Plain. Mr. Britton, in his interesting sketches of Wilts (which manifest topical skill for encouragement in an ampler undertaking) has delineated the scene of our effusion with his usual correctness. "To the eastward of Maiden- Bradley, rises the lofty insulated Hill which is known by the three different appellations of Cold Kitchen Hill, Brimsdon, and Bidcombe. This Hill displays many relics of British Antiquities, such as tumuli, ditches, and ex- cavations ; and is besides one of the most inter- esting eminences in Wiltshire, on account of the vast extent of the prospects which it com- mands. In addition to the rich beauties of Somersetshire and the plains of Wiltshire which are seen from its summit, Bidcombe Hill over- 34 ESSAY ON looks some of the Dorsetshire Hills, including Shaftesbury and the adjacent Country." It might have been added that the remote Hills of Lewesdon and Pillesdon, near Bridport, are, in particular states of the atmosphere, clearly discernible. In short, the south-west view " Diffusive spreads the pure Dorsetian Downs In boundless prospect, yonder shagg'd with wood, Here rich with harvest, and there white with flocks.' ' We gather from competent authority, that in the reverse direction the Silurian Mountains may be descried. " This elevated point (the Sugar Loaf) rises 1852 feet perpendicular from the mouth of the Gavenny, and is seen from Bidcombe Hill, in the County of Wilts/'* — The prospect embraces on all sides a variety of proximate objects ; namely, the mansion and park of Longleat, Alfred's Tower, Glastonbury Tor, Fonthill Abbey, and embowered Villages. The volumes of dun smoke point out the site * Coxe's Monmouthshire, vol. I. 1%". LOCAL POETRY. 35 of Frome-Selwood, renowned for its manufac- tures and for the liberality of its inhabitants. If Thomson had visited our neighbourhood, imagination would conjecture, that he sketched from this elevation the following description: " You gain the Height, from whose fair brow The bursting prospect spreads immense around, And stretch'd o'er Hill and Dale, and Wood and Lawn, And verdant field, and darkning heath between, And villages embosom'd soft in trees, And spiry Towns by surging columns mark'd Of household smoke, your eye excursive roams To where the broken Landscape, by degrees Ascending, roughens into rigid Hills, O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds That skirt the blue horizon, dusky rise." If the spectator's eye and fancy be gratified by multiplied curiosities of nature and art, how must the bosom glow and the imagination triumph under the influence of sacred associ- ations. An accomplished friend (who favoured the world with his letters from Palestine) resembled Bidcombe Hill, from the extent of its views and its sylvan declivities, to the Moun- tain of Lower Galilee, which has been the site 36 ESSAY ON of grand exploits and the theatre of supernatural occurrences. As the visitor traverses our Wilt- shire eminence under the persuasion of its similitude, in particular instances, to Mount Tabor, his imagination will mingle in Barak's conflict, — muse on the strains of Deborah, — and enjoy ideal presence on the Hill of Transfiguration. During twenty-six years of clerical ministration in its neighbourhood, Bidcombe Hill has been the chief object of my walks and contemplations. The morn hath dawned upon me, when travers- ing its summit, Then is the time To soar above this little scene of things, And woo lone quiet in her silent walks." How frequently on Sabbath afternoons have I climbed its steep, that after explaining the volume of Inspiration, I might read the Book of Nature and study the magnificence of the Creation ! The shadows of evening have often overtaken me amidst its romantic solitudes. LOCAL POETRY. 3? te Then loves the eye that shrunk before the day, To seek refreshment from the Moon's pale ray ; When modest Cynthia, clad in silver light, Expands her beauty on the brow of night — Sheds her soft beams upon the mountain's side, Peeps thro' the wood and quivers thro' the tide." If brilliancy of prospect and the solemnity of holy associations have imparted entertainment to the fancy, cheerfulness to the spirits, and gran- deur to the soul, so the attempt to give per- manency to these impressions has furnished occasions of diversified relaxation, I adopt and apply the sentiment of a Precursor — If 1 can be to thee A Poet, thou Parnassus art to me." If there should be transferred to the reader of the Poem a portion of the pleasure which accompanied the rise, progress, and accomplish- ment of its composition, I shall not in vain have aspired to be enrolled amongst the topographical Bards of my Country. — Fifteen years have elapsed since the Poem of Bidcombe Hill was introduced to public reception. The interval 58 ESSAY ON has not expired without attempts at improve- ment. Excursions to the Hill have given rise to new delineations. Meditation and scrutiny have subjected its inequalities to carefulness of revision. Imperfection of design and inadequacy of execution, will however mark the performances of those who have been most studious to remedy or avoid them. The Reader is solicited to extend to the new edition the canon of critical courtesy, non ego paucis Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit Ant humana parurn cavit Natura." I desire that suitable acknowledgments be accepted by those Poets who complimented the first impression, in numbers superior to the effusion which they dignified by their approval. Importunity to produce these testimonials would have been altogether resisted, had not the per- suasion of friends been reinforced by recom- mendations and examples. The distinguished author of the " Night Thoughts" asserts — . " There is in Poesy a decent pride Which well becomes her." LOCAL POETRY. 39 A deceased authoress observed, that " the Bard like the Warrior is privileged to display the trophies he had won." The descriptive Poet of " the Village/' interested the public opinion in his delineation of rural manners, by adducing the critical suffrage of the sagacious Johnson. If adepts in the art of Poetry both recommended and exhibited proofs of literary approbation as passports to renown, an inferior Bard may be permitted to shelter his com- position from obloquy under the mantle of friendship. The following lines bearing date November 5, 1808, were the impromptu effusion* of a Dignitary well known and appreciated by the literary world for the variety and importance of his productions: — " Denham, a Poet of no common fame 1 , A local habitation and a name First gave to Poesy. His fancy drew In mimic colours and perspective hue, The varied Landscape that from Cooper's height, Floats indistinct and charms the dazzled sight. What tho' his earthly tabernacle lies In the lone tomb, the Poet never dies. His Muse survives, his Spirit warms us still, And Bidcorabe's Height shall rival Cooper's Hill/' D2 40 ESSAY ON May I be permitted to record the hope that Bidcombe Hill will not prove the last effort in this line of composition ? There are literate Gentlemen, who have occasions presented to them in the localities of their residence for occupation of leisure hours on similar under- takings. Materials cannot be wanting, as our Empire is as fertile in subjects, as it is abundant in Hills. From Hampstead Hill might be described every interesting circumstance connected with the Metropolis, and all the classical objects in its vicinity. Numerous are the subjects and incidents which would be suggested by contemplating from Brandon Hill the salubrious heights, rocks, vale and springs of Clifton, and by surveying on the other hand the antiquities of the com- mercial city which is the birth-place of Chat- terton. The adventures of Arthur; the ancient Temple of Minerva ; the fountains of the Sun, designa- LOCAL POETRY. 41 ted aquse solis by Antonine, and vSoltol deqftOL by Ptolemy; the battle of Lansdown; Prior Park ; Claverton, with other historical and topical associations, crowd on the sight and imagination of the spectator, whilst traversing Hampton Hill, near Bath, the " Mons Badoni- cus" of Antiquity. A commanding Eminence, in the neighbour- hood of Swindon, exhibits a circular fortification of Danish original. The White Horse on the chalky declivity, and the town of Wantage in the vale, designate the banner and birth-place pf Alfred. Upon the range of Hills are a Roman eilcampment, a Saxon earth-work, and a tumulus environed by a Druidical circle. Ingenuity might find in these and other adven- titious circumstances, materials for a Poem of Badbury Hill. The Island of Athelney, where Alfred was secreted from the Danes ; King's Sedgmoor, which was the scene of Monmouth's discom- £ture ; the monument which was raised by the 42 ESSAY ON immortal Chatham to the memory of Sir William Pynsent; the globular prominences of Montacute with its quarries, fossils, and entrenchments ; Cheddar Cliffs and the Cavern at Wookey ; obtrude themselves upon the sight or recollection from Polden Hill, in the neighbourhood of Bridgwater. I would have some Poet select a Hill in the neighbourhood of Camerton, which has been conjectured, on no slight grounds, to be the Camelodunum of Tacitus. I am aware that; Camden hath assigned the Roman Colony of Camelodunum to Maldon, in Essex, but its derivation from Cam, a River, and Dune, a Down, has no topical application to Maldon ; but is connected with Camerton both in position and etymology. It were easy to deduce from the accounts of the Latin Annalist, other assi- milations in confirmation of the hypothesis, but I forbear to anticipate the discoveries of an indefatigable Antiquary and Local Historian.— In addition to beautiful and diversified scenery of LOCAL POETRY. 43 hill, dale, and water, Camerton presents in its vicinity to the Roman pavement at Wellow, to the sepulchral cavern near Littleton, to the Druid- ical circle at Stanton, and to other British, Belgic, and Roman remains, matter for copious and interesting illustrations. Dunkerton and Farmborough Hills offer themselves as rival titles, for the Poet's selection. Within the demesne of Highclere, Hants, Siddon Hill commands extensive views over six Counties, and embraces suitable subjects for description. Windsor Castle, and in the opposite direction the Isle of Wight, with many intermediate objects may be discriminated. The mansion below was originally built and occa- sionally inhabited by William of Wykeham. The lakes in the park add variety to the landscape, by their agreeable glitter amongst woods and forest trees. The fires which announced an enemy's approach once blazed on a contiguous but inferior height, and hence designated Beacon Hill. Newbury stands at a short distance., 44 ESSAY ON where obstinate and indecisive battles were fought in the civil wars. Donnington, no less than the preceding objects, is of poetical attrac- tion from Siddon Hill, on account of its cas- tellated ruins, as well as for its association with the name of Chaucer, " Whose native manners — painting verse, Well moraliz'd, shines thro' the gothic cloud Of time and language." Who will deny to Siddon Hill poetical capa- bilities ? Who can forbear exclaiming with the Poet of Nature — - A Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around, Of Hills, and Dales, and Woods, and Lawns, and Spires, And glittering Towns and gilded Streams." Leith Hill, near Dorking, is the most con- spicuous elevation in the County of Surrey. It comprehends in its range of prospect the Southdowns of Sussex, and detached portions of the Shires of Berks, Oxford, and Hants. Through an aperture the sea presents itself, to diversify and aggrandize the prospect. Its I LOCAL POETRY. 46 eastern side is marked with ancient castrame- taiions. Situated in the same hundred is Box Hill, which the Poet will incorporate with objects worthy of enumeration. The River Mole is a lively object beneath it, and the yew trees and box-wood which grace its steeps, interest by their variation or awe by their solem- nity. So pure and balmy is the atmosphere of the region, that a neighbouring town has been complimented as the Montpelier of England. Dennis, who is proverbial for critical fas- tidiousness, and whose severity was equalled by his acumen, preferred Leith Hill, on account £>f its prospects, to the Pyrennees, to the heights of Tivoli, and to the mountain Viterbo. He thus concludes his panegyric : — " When I saw at two miles distance that side of Leith Hill which faces the North Downs, it appeared the most jbeautiful prospect I had ever seen ; but after we conquered the Hill itself, I saw a sight that looked like enchantment and vision, but vision beatific," ; See Letters, vol. I. p. 30. 46 ESSAY ON After such eulogy, who will say, that LeiAi Hill should not be consecrated to the service of the Muses ? Flamstead Hill, in Hertfordshire, has been represented by Goldsmith as a place ■" than where Nature never exhibited a more magni^ ficent prospect." Upon its Bard must devolve the duty of selection and delineation. To me it appertains, to solicit notice to those curiosities of art and its appendages, which the neighbour- hood supplies and History commemorates. The ruins subsist of a House at Gorhambury, where Lord Chancellor Bacon resided, whose character furnishes an example of the pre- eminence of Genius and its moral degradation. The votaries of Superstition used to resort to Redbourne, for charms and incantations at the grate of Amphibalus. At Wenmer is a Brook, whose rising waters are said to portend public calamity. Berkampstead is noted for the con r clave where William the Conqueror swore to the guardianship of Englishmen's rights and pri~ LOCAL POETRY. 47 vileges, which he subsequently infringed and violated. Many battles were fought in this neighbourhood between the houses of York and Lancaster. Abbot's Langley, Nicholas Breakspeare was born, who was raised to the pontificate as Hadrian the Fourth : his stirrup was held by Frederick, Emperor of the Romans. But the chief object of local interest is the History of St. Alban, the proto-martyr of Britain. It was a story of general credit, that the executioner was stricken with blindness whilst depriving him of life. In the year 79<5, Offa, King of Mercia, built a monastery over St. Alban's sepulchre, and granted to it by royal authority, and gained for it from the courtesy of Rome, singular rights and exemp- tions. Vestiges of Watling-street, and the ruins of Verulam, exist near the town of St. Alban. As our most distinguished Antiquary # has remarked that no county in England can in the * Camden. 48 ESSAY ON same space boast of so many antiquities as Hert- fordshire, there can be no doubt but that many additional circumstances might be discovered by investigation, and incorporated in a Poem of Flamstead Hill. No Traveller can pass over Frocester Hill, in the County of Gloucester, without an acknow- ledgment of its adaptation to the purposes of Poetry. On one side stands Beverstone Castle, a venerable ruin, once the property of the Berkeleys. To the left we cast our eyes on Uley, a vale not unworthy of comparison with the Thessalian Tempe. The neighbouring Village of Woodchester affords appropriate scope for a description of Roman Villas. Indeed the researches and minute details of a late distin- guished and native Antiquary, leave no duty to the Poet but the pleasing art of versification and embellishment. Berkeley Castle is too well known in History, not to present curious incidents for the descant of the Local Bard : — LOCAL POETRY. 4Q and the scenery and interests of their romantic Hills. When the History of Winchester and its vicinity are considered in their ramifications, accompaniments, and interests, few sites could offer fitter subjects for the Muse, than Catherine Hill. It has indeed cursorily engaged metrical attentions, but not to an extent and notoriety, as to supersede ampler details and more ela- borate composition. The latin celebration of Catherine Hill by Warton is not, it is to be apprehended, so generally known as its excellencies deserve. " Aerii Catherina jugi, qua vertice summo Danorum veteres fossas, immania castra, Et circumduct! servat vestigia valli ; Wiccamicae mos est pubi celebrare paloestras Multiplices, passimque levi contendere lusu Festa dies quoties rediit." E 54 ESSAY ON The other poetical eulogy on Catherine Hill was composed as a scholastic exercise from the thesis, "nil est jucundum nisi quod re- ficit varietas." The manuscript has been submitted to my inspection by a neighbour- ing friend. It bears date 1728, with the signature " Lowth e Schol : Winton," and bears prognostications of that spirit and ge- nius which shone with brighter effulgence in his translation of "the choice of Hercules," and in his masterly prelections on Hebrew Poetry. " Shall no sublimer Muse thy Mountain grace, O Catherine, thou delight of Wykeham's race ? Shall no young Bard once try to speak thy praise, And sing of thee on which so oft hs plays ? Justly does this low verse to thee belong, Pleasure the theme, variety the song." The first object of consideration suggested by an excursion to the Height of Catherine, is the Saint from whom it derives its sanctity and appellation. The legend of her marriage to the infant Saviour has been a frequent subject LOCAL POETllY. 55 with the Painter, and as it allegorically repre- sents the consecration of her life and person to the services of the Redeemer* it becomes a fine subject for poetical configuration. The next attention will be directed to the City of Winchester, described both by Ptolemy and Antonine as " Venta Belgarum." " But see her head, unhappy Winton rears, Torn with war's havoc and the length of years ; Yet once, O Catherine, did thy city spread Round thee her walls, and round the world her dread." The Belgick history of our City will obtain but brief notification, from the obscurity of its annals. That it was a place of note during the Roman occupancy of Britain, is evident from its termination in chester, which is characteristical, according to Latin etymology, of strength and security. Invasion of our Country by Roman Legions was the primary step towards the civi- lization of our barbarous forefathers. The partial introduction of law, arts, coinage, archi- tecture, tactics, fruits, and of better modes of cultivating the soil, furnished the rudiments of E 2 56 ESSAY ON our present accommodations, comforts, and aess. " Hasc est in gremium victos quae sola recepit Humanunque genus comnmni nomine fovit, Matris non Dominae ritu ; civesque vocavit Quos domuit, nexuque pio longinqua revinxit, Armorum legumque Parens." The interesting period of Saxon Annals should be adequately described, embracing topics con- nected with the exploits of the immortal Alfred. When the Poet descends to local particulars, the venerable Cathedral will offer itself to notice, in its stile of architecture, and from Royal and Priestly Worthies who honoured it by their devotions or interment. The Poet might also descant on the horrors of the grand Rebellion, as its chapel and orna- ments are imprest with puritanical mutilation and sacrilege. The Bard might aggrandize his description by the language of Inspiration: " They break down all the carved work thereof with axes and hammers. They have set fire upon thy holy places : and have defiled the LOCAL POETRY. 57 dwelling-place of thy name, even unto the ground ; yea they said in their hearts, let us make havoc of them altogether: thus have they burnt up all the houses of God in the land." Ps. lxxiv. 7, 8, 9. These circumstances have not es- caped the notice of our youthful and indignant Bard. " Then too her sacred rites she saw profan'd, When Charles was exil'd and the Tyrant reign'd ; Her plunder'd shrines the common fate partake, And fall for Charles' and Religion's sake." Monarchy and Religion have in this Country gone hand in hand, and all attempts to under- mine their foundations should be resisted by the Divine, the Moralist, the Politician, and the Poet. If personages, celebrated for their learning and piety, be desiderated to complete the cha- racter of a Local Poem, Winchester offers to notice her St. S within and her William of Wyke- ham. If a Landscape be incomplete for de- scription without the adjunct of water, — " Deep in the vale along the Mountain's side, The peaceful Itehin's gentle waters glide." 58 ESSAY ON But there is one topic connected with Catherine Hill beyond most other subjects interesting: it was on this spot that a youth expressed the poignancy of his feelings, when left at school during the holidays, the victim of solitude and destitution. Whose heart does not respond to the accents of grief from the Wiccamical song of Joy and affection sparkled in her eyes, And winning smiles that play'd around her brow, Proclaim'd the happiness that dwelt within. Soon as the signal from the household bird BIDCOMBE HILL. 147 Announc'd the morn, she ply'd her usual task. Heedless of ills she sung her matin strain Sweet as the music of the early lark ; Soft as the murmurs of the winding stream, She only knew a widow'd mother's care: No father's mandate or restraining hand Check'd the wild wanderings of her erring steps. Oft' would she quit th' unfinished task to walk Or on the wood-fring'd hill or daisied mead In amorous dalliance with the swain she lov'd. The genial freshness of the balmy breeze ; The sheltering copse and love's alluring tale, Conspir'd with gloom of evening to seduce From Virtue's path her hesitating steps. Long did she cherish the beguiling hope That her dear Albert would redeem his vow And make her his before " the holy man." No Albert comes to realize her wish And drive suspicion from her aching heart. In frequent ravings of delirious grief, She would invoke the dear tho' perjur'd youth By proofs of love to intercept despair 143 BIDCOMBE HILL. And snatch her from the prison of the grave. No Albert conies. Her kinsfolk and her friends Shun the contagion of her sicken'd couch And like the herd fly from the stricken deer. All earthly comfort gone, to Heaven she turns Her faded eyes brilliant with rising tears, And wrings her hands in speechless agony. Pleas'd at the moral change the priest attends, And mingles benedictions with his prayers. The floods of anguish overwhelm her cheeks ; Convulsive sobs denote a contrite heart. A smile would sometimes intervene to shew Her hope of pardon register'd in Heaven. Now, not unsuitably she recollects The Magdalen, who bath'd Christ's feet with tears And wip'd them with the tresses of her hair. Her languid pulse beats low. Her hollow eyes Sink in their sockets dim. With faltering lips She mutters her destroyer's still lov'd name, And dies in peace with him and all the world. On troubled waves Matilda's fragile bark Was laimch'd to sail along the dubious course BID COMBE HILL. 149 Of life. No pilot govern'd at the helm To shun surrounding dangers, and to steer Her erring vessel to its destin'd port. Driv'n by the whirlwind, toss'd about with storms, At length she founder'd in a sea of woes. Who will not shed the tear of sympathy, And mourn the wreck of innocence and love ? That blessed charity, which all things hopes, Shall spread Oblivion's curtain o'er her faults ; Her tale the Pilgrim's journey shall beguile ; Her Albert e'en shall weep, and virgins dress With flowers the grave where a frail sister sleeps. Within a vault of yonder Gothic pile The patriot Seymour rests, who dar'd to found His country's greatness on the people's rights. Not such the fortune of the Regicide : Self-exiled from the land which gave him birth, He fled a wanderer to Helvetia's vales, Where, at a distance from his father's shrine, His ashes tenant an inglorious tomb.* * 1 Kings xiii. 22. L 150 BIDCOMBE HILL. Nor such the fortune of the frantic maid, Who, plunging headlong 'midst o'erwhelming waves*. Clos'd a career of agony and shame. Her corse, dishonour'd by the lawless deed,, Was destin'd to an ignominious cell, A warning to the way-worn passenger Ne'er to presume audaciously to snatch, From God's high power, the thunderbolt of fate* What tho' nor choral anthems swell'd the gale Nor slow procession pac'd behind the bier, The rustling aspens shall a requiem sing,, And willows their dishevell'd tresses wave In elegant simplicity of grief Over the sod where lies the suicide. 'Tis said her spectre burst the nether world, And seem'd with piteous looks to crave the rites Of Christian sepulture. Some pious friend Amid' the gloom of evening mutter' d o'er The service of the dead, and threw the dust, Thrice-scatter'd, o'er her grave. The unhallow'd spot Is sanctified, and lo ! her spirit rests. Fain would the Muse descant on ancient scenes BIDCOMBE HILL. 151 Which lie within circumference of view. Some relics mock inquisitive research ; Their tale is perish' d on the scroll of time. Such Woodhouse-Castle is. The neighbr'ing lake Reflects upon its marge the ash and oak, Which once reflected battlements and towers. The banner' d hall is carpeted with sward, Which once resounded with obstreperous mirth. The mound and ditch no more secure retreat, Or mock the efforts of advancing foes. Silence and desolation reign supreme. The antiquary treads the terrac'd height Or sits amidst the ruins unconcern'd, Whilst others mark vicissitude of state And muse in thought upon the wreck of worlds. Embower'd amidst the watery vale below The ruins of an ancient Priory stand. Now horses neigh and the fierce mastiff howls, Where holy men in sacerdotal robes Once raised their sacred orisons to Heaven, See how the tottering fragments keep their ground, L 2 159, BIDCOMBE HILL Clasp'd by the ivy's strong embrace. BehoM The gadding plant throw its green mantle round The fractur'd walls, clad by whose friendly garb^ They still resist the injuries of time, And brave unmov'd the desolating storm. So have I seen the high-aspiring youth Protection spread round veteran friend, « and save His feet from falling and his eyes from tears. N ear stands a scathed yew marking the spot Where once monastic priests inhum'd their dead. Levelled the graves, and beasts profane the ground Where earth was mix'd with earth, and dust with dusjfc. How mourns the mind viewing the ravages Of all-destroying time on vaulted roofs And consecrated turf. But check thy grief;. Reserve the sigh of sensibility For themes more worthy of thy tears. Behold Yon Tor, amid the blue expanse, which marks The space exact where Glastonbury's pride Is crumbling to its fall. In ancient times, As old traditions tell, the godly man, Who bore Christ's cross and in a rock entomb'd BIDCOM^E HILL. 153 His pierc'd and bleeding body, thither came, To civilize by holy rules the minds Of barb'rous islanders. Into the ground His staff he thrust ; like Aaron's rod it bloom'd. Messiah's birth-day still it greets with flowers Which frost empearls and not the morning dew. The Briton spurn'd his rites idolatrous, And bow'd his knees at the Redeemer's name. Of wattled twigs (roof'd with aquatic sedge) A church is form'd for christian proselytes. Mean edifice to celebrate the praise Of Heaven's high Monarch and His only Son ! But He whose temple is an upright heart Approves the deed and consecrates the fane. When the rude heap, which rustic hands had rear'd In shape uncouth, lay levell'd with the dust, A loftier fabric instantly arose With turrets crown'd and Heaven-directed spires. There pious votaries flying from the world And all the vain solicitudes of life, Resign'd their souls to privacy and prayer. Not so the abbey's mitred chief. He claim'd 154 BIDCOMBE HILL, Free relaxations from monastic vows, And less restraint from Benedictine rules. When on his steed caparison'd he rode, Accoutred horsemen follow'd in his train. When in refectory he grac'd the feast With richly-vested guests, the cowled monks, By fasts emaciate and thro' vigils pale, Chanted their hymns to bless his rich repast. 'Tis said, that when at altar's foot he knelt With sorted garments rob'd for sacrifice, The wafer on his consecrating touch Its substance us'd to change, and vinous juice The essence caught of life's sanguineous tide. The prostrate crowd in duteous faith embrace The mystery profound. The organ swells With notes of echoing praise, and fretted aisles And vaulted roofs with choral anthems ring. But where is now the venerable pile Where all his skill the architect display'd In effort to transmit monastic forms ? Alas ! save yonder Tor in wrecks it lies Scatter'd about by sacrilege and time, BIDCOMEE HILL. 155 No more the pilgrim, from the distant coast, Shall entrance crave in speech uncouth and strange , To bow in duteous homage at the shrine, Or kiss the relics of some martyr'd saint. Rous'd by the thunder of the deep-ton'd bell, The monks no more reluctantly shall start From broken rest to matins or to lauds ; Nor shall the pealing organ's sacred voice Rekindle raptures in the good man's heart And charm his soul to ecstacy. The dome, Which once resounded with Messiah's praise, And chanted hallelujahs, is no more. What tho' corruption, thro' a lapse of years Contracted, scar'd the Christian from his pale Of ancient fellowship, yet let not man The mutilated monuments disdain Of old magnificence. Are there no ties To bind our gratitude to cloister'd cells ? Can we forget the day, when Vandal rage Wag'd against arts exterminating war ? When science to these seats secure retir'd (A friendless outcast) with her learned train. 156 BIDCOMBE HILL. And hid the treasure which had 'scap'd the spoil Of hands barbarian 'midst these holy walls ? If Attic elegance e'er charm'd thine ear, Or Grecian story fir'd thine ardent mind, Think that perhaps to these retreats we owe, That Plato reasons and that Homer sings. Or if a tale of pity move thy breast To thoughts of charity and deeds of love, Think how benighted travellers on their way, Lur'd by the taper's hospitable glare, Here sought a resting-place for wearied limbs, And never sought in vain. Think on the crowd Who at the convent gate with crumbs were fed, The welcome relics of the plenteous board. The scanty pittance of the parish pay Was then unknown. The soul-disheart'ning badge Of vile dependence not as yet had mark'd The poor man's back, to tell the flaunting world He fed his wasting lamp with borrow'd oil. But not to England's isle alone confin'd The batter'd dome, the convent's vacant walls ; Lo ! frantic zeal in Gallia's proud domains B.1DCOMBE HILL. 157 Levels to dust the abbey's towering pride, And sacrilegious fury dares intrude To violate the sanctity of cells. The Vestal, banish'd from her cloister'd home, Is forc'd to brave the tumult of the deep, To fly from perils by more cruel man. The exil'd Priests desert their native plains, And claim protection 'midst a host of foes. Our generous-hearted countrymen forget Their hostile land and superstitious rites, And by Samaritan benevolence Assuage their pain and stanch their bleeding wounds. An intervening hill and tufted trees, Hide from our view the castellated pile Where noble-minded Arundel dispens'd Bread to the hungry fugitives and rest : But fancy holds communion with the scene And sees, with rich embroider' d vest the priest Scatter perfume or elevate the host, Whilst prostrate and entranced worshippers In beatific musings visit Heaven. 158 BIDCOMBE HILL. Altho' the Muse rejoices in the day When the church burst the bands of papal Rome And reformation made religion free, Yet when she views the ruin'd edifice Whose vaulted roof once echo'd with God's praise ; Or when she sees the sacred exiles roam Without a country and apart from friends, She cannot check the involuntary sigh ; She will not blush to drop some pitying tears. But while in melancholy guise I muse O'er the fallen grandeur of monastic domes, A modern Abbey rises to the view Mocking the majesty of ancient days. No more the sight of Glastonbury Tor Excite regrets that interest the soul ; The prouder pile from Fonthill's fir-clad mount Bursts on the sight and brighter dreams inspires. Thron'd on an eminence its turrets rise In height superior to the distant hills Which crown the view. Around its giant base Is spread an artificial wilderness Where gadding brambles wander, and where grow BIDCOMBE HILL. 159 Trees of all tints and shrubs from every clime. The beasts, imprison' d by encircling walls, Instinctive wildness lose, and oft times crouch Nigh to our feet, or frolic thro' the glades* Here might the devotee or anchorite Detach his soul from sublunary dreams 'Midst silvan labyrinths and cavern'd dells Impervious to the clouds and lights of Heaven. Let not the loneliness induce the wish To quit life's turmoil for sequester'd glens. Still let us mingle with the jostling crowd, Breathe liberty and cheer the drooping hearts Of fellow travelers, nor wish to retrograde From social duties to inactive gloom. Hither the Hero of the Nile repair'd And thro' the sacred portal first advanc'd. Lo ! when the doors on massy hinges turn'd, Upon the burnish'd glass the torches shed Their flaring light, and canopy and aisles Gleam 'd with effulgence as from setting sun. To greet the presence of the warrior-guest The board was spread with culinary art 160 BIDCOMBE HILL. As when in olden time the mitred sire Furnish'd provisions for conventual feast. The tragic queen, Melpomene, appears Clad in funereal vestments, to display The finished efforts of dramatic skill. Lo ! Agrippina mingles with the guests. Her frantic gestures and impassioned air Pourtray the tempests that convulse her soul. In her clench'd hands she grasps the urn which holds The perfum'd ashes of her murder'd lord. She holds it up to Heaven ; implores the gods ; Then whirls it round her glowing countrymen, And summons Roman valour to avenge Her lost Germanicus. — The admiring crowd Do homage by their tears, and laud the scene Where nature yields precedency to art. But lo ! the house of banqueting is chang'd From scenes of revelry to tales of grief. E'en while from Bidcombe's elevated spot I view the structure where the hero quafPd Delicious beverage from the Wassel bowl, The muffled bells from villages around BIDCOM^E HILL. l6l Mingle rejoicing with alternate woe. I listen to the cheerful, tragic sound, And blend my sorrow with the tide of joy. The glittering prizes, which his valour earn J d y Shone with a dazzling lustre on his breast And drew the envious notice of the foe. Directed by unerring aim a ball Pierc'd thro' the trophy of his high renown, And laid him prostrate on the blood-stain'd deck. Loud acclamations from the adverse crew Join'd shouts tumultuous to the cannon's roar, To testify their joy at Nelson's doom. Cease barbarous foe to triumph o'er the wound Compass'd by Gallic artifice and fraud ; Forth from his dust shall other Nelsons spring To scour the ocean and avenge his doom. Soon as his ears were gladden'd with the cheer* Of victory, he bade his friends farewell, And casting up a grateful eye to Heaven, Expir'd. No more the dainties of the feast Shall hail his coming from the pomp of war Crown'd with the well-earn'd diadem of fame. 162 BIDCOMBE HILL. No more the christian with admiring eyes Shall gaze upon the hero of the waves Who conquer'd with the out-stretched arm of God, The patriot twines amid' the laurel wreath The doleful cypress and funereal yew, Whilst from each heart spontaneous accents rise To speak a nation's gratitude to Heaven. His gladden'd country wears the face of grief, Resembling most the clouded orb of day Sparkling 'midst gloom arid glorious e'en in tears, Oft' as the hind shall ken yon sacred pile, The honest drops shall gather in his eyes; A tear of sorrow mix'd with tears of joy. Nor should the Castle's wreck unnotic'd stand Where in the civil wars th' intrepid Blanch Maintain'd the fray assign'd her by her Lord, Whilst from contiguous height th' artillery pour'd Its vollied thunder on the riven pile. At length by subtlety the opposing force Admittance gain'd. Then did the fraudful band Betray their promises of liberty, And foes, as much to woman-hood as Kings, BIDCOMBE HILL. 163 Sever'd the children clinging to her breast. Rebellion, like enchanting witchcraft's sin, With speed accelerated urg'd its course, Nor stopp'd till stain'd with regicidal gore. Let memory blot the nauseating tales Of Scripture tortur'd to encourage crime And sanctify misrule. Let Temples ring With echoing lauds, whilst surplic'd Priests proclaim To all men, honour ; to the Brethren, Love ; Fear unto God and honour to the King : So shall no fiends, assuming forms of light, Again spread havoc, sacrilege, and death. Yon well-pois'd Tower, sublimely-eminent^ Shews to the curious passenger the spot Where Alfred, England's patriot King, unfurl'd The Saxon banner 'gainst the northern foe. Long had he mourn 'd his country desolate, Its commerce ravag'd and his subjects slain, Muttering revenge impracticable. In minstrels guise he seeks the hostile camp, Lulling suspicion by his magic harp, 164 BIDCOMBE HILL. He sees the freebooters prefer the vale To the bleak bulwarks of their upland camp* Returning safely thro' the scatter'd foe His hardy friends he summons to the held. Who slay or intercept the unguarded host. A foreign spoiler from the adverse shore Dreams of invading Britain's sea-girt realm With more than Danish force. Infuriate hordes Long train'd to devastation burn to glut Their hearts with vengeance and their swords with blood. Spirit of Alfred ! from thy rest arise And teach us how to vindicate our wrongs. Alfred's great spirit is already here : It animates the peasant and the Prince. See in the fertile vales the shepherd quits His peaceful charge and trains himself for war. The plough-boy throws his woollen frock aside In scarlet clad, and beats his share to spears. The common cause to aid, the Monarch heads The patriotic list; e'en he, like Alfred burns On British ground to meet the braggart foe. If e'er the Gallic hordes 'midst darkest nights B1DCOMBE HILL. 165 Shall 'scape our fleet and land on Albion's strand, The rash adventurers shall rue the hour When first from Boulogne's port they madly sail'd ; And when their pride is humbled to the dust As was the Dane's in Ethanduna's vale, To Heaven's great King shall rise the victor's shout, And to illustrious George the trophied tower. Wide-stretch'd beneath we trace the woodland scene Of fam'd Stourhead, where philosophic Hoare (Himself an artist and a patron too) Fosters sweet science and congenial taste. Forth from the mansion, where with mimic life The canvass glows and sculpture seems to breathe Fir'd by Prometheus, let remembrance stray Over enchanted scenes. The Gothic Cross, Which once adorn 'd the city's crowded square, In solitary grandeur lifts its head, Deck'd with the sculptur'd imagery of Kings. Quick bring the boat, and o'er the Stygian lake Conduct me, ferryman, to shades below. M 166 BIDCOMBE HILL. As I descend the subterranean way Which to the grotto's cool retreat conducts. Fancy pourtrays the watchful Cerberus Guarding the entrance of the nether world. With proffer'd cates or music's notes disarm The monster's rage, whilst I pursue my way To view the beauteous Naiad of the stream Lull'd on her rocky couch by waterfall ; Or from his urn behold the water-god Discharge the rill which forms the source of Stour Escaping Pluto's realms, let Fancy lead To brighter scenes, where demi-gods and men Renew their pastimes in Elysium blest. There Hercules, with sinewy arm, is seen Grasping his club ; upon his scowling brow Defiance lowers. There Meleager boasts His conquest o'er the Calydonian boar, And bears its head, the emblem of his spoil. Livia too stands, like Ceres, with a sheaf, And chaste Diana with her crescent crown'd. Cecilia bring from yon baronial hall BIDCOMBE HILL. l67 The eld bard's harp and sweep its magic chords ; The enthusiast's ear shall catch each dying fall, And echo shall reverberate the sound. Ah ! who on yon wide edifice can gaze Shining pre-eminent 'midst Marston's bowers, And not feel transport at the name of Boyle ? Religion and Philosophy combine To fold a wreath of never-dying fame Around the brow of their illustrious child. The sophisms of the Stagirite (which long Had bound in spells the mind) he overthrew And on the basis of experiment Grounded Philosophy. He never spake, Without a pause, Jehovah's awful name, Nor ever roam'd amid' Creation's works, But by spontaneous buoyancy his soul Mounted the skies in gratitude to Heaven. Hear this ye sceptics, who with jaundic'd ken Survey the wonders of Almighty power, And dare dispute the Sovereignty of Him Of earth the King, of Heaven the Lord of Lords. l6S BID COMBE HILL. How can ye Nature's miracles explore ; The vault of Heaven, sparkling with living gems ; The earth with aptitudes for man and beast; The cloud-capt mountain and the enamell'd vale ; The purling rill and ocean's billowy roar, O'erlooking Nature's God ? Vain men renounce Your " Science falsely called" nor scorn the truths Rever'd by Newton, Bacon, Locke, and Boyle. In yonder vale, beneath the tufted mount, Is the neat cot where Reverend Theron dwells. The watchful pastor of the village flock ; The dear companion of life's ripening years, Link'd arm in arm on Isis' banks we rov'd, Conversing on the day when we should guide A rural charge thro' the strait gate to Heaven. Long would we linger by the classic stream, Musing on plans which ardent fancy fram'd, 'Till chiming bells' from Merton's fretted tower Recall'd our footsteps to the house of prayer. The day long since hath dawn'd, which saw our hopes Chang'd to realities : now we converse BID COMBE HILL. 169 Par from the venerable shade we lov'd, Of past adventures and collegiate friends With all the rapture past delights inspire. The crippled mariner who bled in war, To save the country where he toils for bread, Finds there a shelter whilst the torrent pours. Beside the social hearth he sits him down In momentary thoughtlessness of woe, And as he warms his weather-beaten limbs, Repeats the battles which his comrades won O'er Gallic fleets, and wins them o'er again. The soldier's widow, with her orphan babes, Unbosoms here her tale of buried grief; Hibernia's region how they left, to court A husband's and a father's last embrace, But 'ere their footsteps reach'd the sick man's couch, Death had bereav'd them of a parting kiss, And sent them back to travel and to mourn. O ! cruel war, the terror of the rich ; The poor man's curse ; why longer wilt thou spread Thy desolations o'er the ensanguin'd earth. Great God of mercy ! hear a kingdom's cry ; 170 BIDCOMBE HILL. Compose the jarring universe to peace ; Give anxious nations rest. And ye blest times, Millennium-days arrive, when once again The Heaven-descended messenger shall come, Bringing to earth sweet peace, to man good-will. In our Messiah's reign shall Concord's sound Enchant the ear hurried with martial din, And war's wild tumult be for ever hush'd. No more the soldier's widow shall unfold To Theron's weeping family her griefs, Whilst orphan children in their artless prayers Beg Heaven to bless their benefactor's store. Error shall flee from the benighted east, And Superstition's meteor flame shall set In everlasting night to rise no more. The unreluctant Musselman shall quit The fabulous Koran for the Book of Life ; The glittering crescent for the abject cross ; The conquering prophet for a martyr' d priest. No more the Hindu widow shall repose Her votive person on the funeral pile, Losing in fondness her excess of pain, BIDCOMBE HILL. 171 And blessing flames which waft her to her love. The obscuring scales of prejudice shall fall From the purg'd vision of the blinded Jews, And mad infatuation quit their hearts. Their scatter'd tribes to regions shall resort, Where once their temple aw'd and prophets sung, And where their promis'd Saviour liv'd and died. Him shall they see whose sacred corse they piercd, And hail Him King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. The earth with truth and knowledge shall abound As waters cover the expanse of seas. Blest season, hail ! O God, thy kingdom come. From distant scenes, excursive muse, return ; A subject nearer home demands thy song. Cast we onr eyes to the rich vale below And view the mansion and its turrets gleam Amid' the foliage of contiguous groves. Upon the site of consecrated ground The pile illustrious stands. Where once the monk. In pilgrim habit clad, forsook the world And with coarse diet mortified desire, ]72 BIDCOMBE HILL Now dwell examples of connubial love And all the chanties that sweeten life. Thither the royal guest repair'd to sooth His anguish'd mind vex'd with the cares of state. Broken with age and robb'd of every joy Save what a conscience void of guilt imparts, The mitred outcast here a refuge found, 'Till ripe in faith the gentle hand of death Led his declining footsteps to the tomb. Charm'd with the scene if Royalty depart; If the good Prelate with his dying breath Spread blessings round his benefactor's head, My humble muse shall not decline the song Of poesy to celebrate thy praise Lord of Longleat's demesne. The house of God (On scale too limited for those that bow At name of Jesus in the established fane) Enlarg'd by thee opens its friendly aisles, To which a duteous multitude resort To hear glad tidings of eternal life. Oft as at evening's close with hands to Heaven Uplifted, I address myself to Him BIDCOMEE HILL. 173 Who is invisible, and supplicate Protection for my family and friends, With their's I mingle thy benignant name ; With equal warmth Heaven's benison implore. And ye, dear offspring of a happy pair — Ye scions grafted on a virtuous stock, Who round a table bountifully spread •*. Like olive branches tall and beauteous rise, Grow up and flourish to the utmost height Of your fond parents' animating hopes. Fancy presaging every good to come Beholds the bud unfolding by degrees Its embryo fruit in your expanding minds ; It sees the growing boughs enlarge their shade, Where houseless poverty one day shall find From heat a shelter and from toils repose. On two declivities the village stands Which forms the object of my pastoral charge, By rare locality and planter's art Fenc'd from the winds that sweep the upland plains, Escaping from its fount, the frequent rill 174 BIDCOMBE HILL. Hurries its streamlet thro' the pebbled track, As on it gurgles to yon mass of waves. The cuckoo's earliest note of love is heard Amidst its bowers, and harbinger of spring, The swallow, skims the surface of the lake What time the violets scent the well-known bank Of sheltered hedgerow, which respectful zeal Presents an annual off'ring to the priest. In olden time the native youths display'd On customary spot # their arrowy skill ; Or on a level of the shaded green With buxom damsels frolic'd thro' the dance. The harmless recreations rid the heart Of half its burden. The distorted look ; The haggard eye-brow and the pallid cheek; The guileful mind and misanthropic heart Cause all true patriots to regret the loss Of rural gambols and enlivening sports Which chas'd bad humours, bade the face to glow With health's vermilion, furnish'd social joy * The Butts. BIDCOMBE HILL. 175 And bound the peasant to his native land. Curious it was to hear the Sibyl tell Her barbarous tales of sorceries and ghosts : How witches rode triumphant thro' the air, And could for mischief every form assume Save of the harmless lamb, and of the beast Which bears upon its back the sacred cross. Then would she prate, how wicked spirits fled Sepulchral resting-place and craz'd the earth ; And how (whilst priests with solemn rites consign'd The recreant soul for hundred years to come Under the sod which still tradition marks) The whirlwinds rose ; the pattering hail-stones fell; The thunder bellowed ; skies with darkness frown'd, And only forked flashes lit the gloom. — Another Dame prophetic would remark, Whene'er the bell which call'd to evening prayer, Sent forth a hollow and funereal sound, It prov'd the knell of unexpected death. Then would she tell with seriousness of face That the old Priest, who long had gone to rest, Ne'er ask'd fair weather in his public prayers, 176 BIDCOMBE HILL. But the Sun brighten'd and the storm was still ; Nor e'er implor'd relief from parching heat, But the clouds gathered and distill'd in showers. Nor will the Miller's tale be soon forgot, (Over whose head a century had roll'd) How at the grand eclipse unconscious birds Slunk prematurely to their nightly sheds, Whilst the pale inmates of the lonely pile Knelt in the fear that the last hour was come. Respectful feelings memorize the domes Where long-remembered hospitality Welcom'd its friends and ne'er forgot the poor. The gay or edifying chat went round ; On festive days the tale, the dance and song. These scenes, which sensibility recalls, Are clos'd for ever by the hand of death. In numerous cottages which meet my sight Oft' have I watch'd the lingering soul depart From its distemper'd tenement of flesh, Whilst on my knees I pour'd the dying prayer, Drown'd with the tears and stifled by the sobs Of friends surviving. Soon alas! too soon, BIDCOMEE HILL. 177 They yield putrescent relics to the grave, Which fond regard from inhumation kept 'Till decency demanded solemn rites. Then buried grief arose again in groans Or started from the lacrymary fount. A partial glimpse of the defaced cell Which hold an aged grandsire's mouldering clay, Caused the loud shriek which pierc'd the atmosphere. Mourners would sink the victims of despair, Did not a voice relieve the breaking heart " I am the resurrection and the life, He that believes in me shall never die.' 7 Skreen'd from the view theVillageTemple stands, But jingling bells the vagrant fancy guide To the green spot from whence it points to Heaven. Rang'd in their different seats the sexes meet In comely order and in neat array. With heartfelt satisfaction I review The cheerful groupes which crowd its sacred walls, And hear them join in prayer with loud response, Or watch them listen to the Book of Life. Pre-eminent is seen the hoarv swain 178 BIDCOMBE HILL. Who long had slunk to error's devious tract, But long recall'd to the good path he left, His voice is audible in songs of praise, His prayer is strong for stedfastness in faith. On his clasp'd hands his musing head reclines Whilst he attends to doctrine, or applies The sacerdotal blessing. In lengthening trains The thoughtful crowd depart, but ne'er forget Their usual salutations on the way. Some con the sermon ; others walk the fields And muse how lilies grow and birds are fed, And how the fruitful vallies laugh and sing. They, whom infirmity or age restrains From contemplating Nature's works abroad, (From which God ceas'd on this enlivening day) Frequent the borders where the tulips blow, Or mark the vegetable increment Thro' solar warmth and fertilizing showers ; Then ponder o'er the heavenly oracles, Or in the circle of judicious friends Conclude the evening of the day of rest. UidcoMbe hill. 179 Thou too, my cot, whose humble roof I rear'd Amid the ruins of a falling pile, The muse shall not disdain to celebrate Thy calm retreat before is closM her song. Near to the consecrated house of prayer The straw-roof 'd cottage stands and overlooks The scatter'd hamlet and irriguous vale. No ornamental taste its front displays Save where the eglantine entwines the porch, And various shrubs combine their sweets to form From noon-tide heat an odoriferous shade. When my heart grieves, home to my cot I fly, And 'midst its bowers and tranquillizing scenes Forgive unkindness and forget its wrongs. When breezes fan the vernal air I lay The harp JEolian side way to the wind, Whose fairy minstrelsy transports my heart To thrilling ecstacy or melts to love. When summer sheds intolerable heat I seek the porch which courts the western breeze, And warm my fancy with historic tale, Or with diviner strains of poesy. 180 BID COMBE HILL. I mark the distant landscape fade in air, And blend its tints with the cerulean sky^ Unable to discriminate between The azure hillock and contiguous cloud. When languid nature hails the setting sun I drench with aqueous nutriment the plant Whose root was withering in its parched bed, And lift the flower, which accident had laid Prostrate on earth, and aid it with support. Then do I seek the bower which fancy form'd And mine own hand had planted, to remark Its thick'ning foliage and sequester'd gloom. The goldfinch culls materials for its nest From lichens, moss, and dew-besprinkl'd fleece^ And marks a branch of the romantic shade To fix its work, which should when finish'd, prove Depository for its embryo young. Perch 'd on the blossom 'd pear-tree hear him charm His mate, as brooding o'er my head she sits In the security that no rash hand Will rob her store or interrupt her rest. When the earth trembles on its tottering base, BIDCOMEE HILL. 181 Rent by the dread artillery of Heaven, Guarded from harm I watch the lightnings dart Their transient flashes o'er my domicile. Oft when in cataracts the rains descend And hurricanes depopulate the grove, Unmov'd amid' the elemental strife, I pen a sonnet to the angry storm. Sometimes the fate of Mariner I mourn, Who, far from port and farther still from friends, Views in each rising surge a funeral bier And in each yawning gulph a watery tomb. On bended knees methinks I see him wring His folded hands, then lift them tow'rds the sky With looks of desparation and affright. While the huge tear-drops dim the visual ray, He calls on Heaven to catch his faultering prayer, f O shield my babes and dry my widow's tears.' The suppliant's voice outrides the deafening blast, Pierces opposing clouds and reaches Heaven ; The god-like mandates, " Peace, be still," go forth, Hush'd is the whirlwind, and the sea is calm. I watch the starlings, as autumnal eves 182 B1DCOMBE HILL. Slowly advance, fly to their nightly sheds In undulating motion, and in flocks Darkening the air. Scar'd by the falling leaf, They seek the reeds that bend with every gale But with no sound annoy, where they secure Andunmolested lodge, till every grove Is leafless ; then their stalky couch they shun, Till autumn spreads again its sickly hues And rustling foliaae renovates alarm. When Nature wears her winter's shaggy garb I sit beside the blazing hearth, not sad, Tho' solitary: oft witli books I cheer The hours, and not unfrequently with friends. Oft times fatigued with conning o'er the page Of ancient lore the volume I have clos'd, And from the open'd window gaz'd around To watch the smoke in trailing col urn us rise From cottages more lowly than my own, And see it mingle with the dusky cloud. Sometimes 1 view the congregated deer Follow the herdsman thro' the drifted snow* — Sometimes I mark with outstretch'd neck the swan BID COMBE HILL. 183 Wing his high circuit thro' the low'ring Heavens ; At length resigning his aerial course Like a trim bark he breasts the gathering surge, His plumes the shrouds and his arch'd crest the prow. Hail quiet, sacred to the household gods ! Let the gay libertine 'midst cities roam, Diversifying pleasures with each day; Let me enjoy my peaceable retreat And give the crumbs that from my table fall (The trifling relics of a frugal board) To help the weary traveller on his way. When from my door the mendicant departs Content and happy with some pittance giv'n ; The benedictions which he leaves behind Shall rise like incense to the throne of God, Who gives the heart to feel another's woe, And opes the hand in pity to distress. Theron, my friend, (and I can call thee friend] The vagrant muse, returning from her flight O'er fairy scenes which Bidcombe Hill presents To her admiring view, bids thee farewell : Peace to our cots and solace to our hearts. N 2 184 BIDCOMBE HILL. And, oh ! if God in all His dealings good Restricts my labours to this neighbourhood ; If those who knew my youth shall know my age, Journeying together thro' life's pilgrimage ; Then friends and neighbours when my race is run, Make my last home to front the rising sun • Its lively rays shall gild funereal gloom And chase Death's phantoms from around my tomb. But should my devious steps be doom'd to stray Far from the windings of this alpine way ; If I should migrate, in a distant soil, To higher duties and severer toil, Frequent remembrance shall recall the spot Where mirth was found the partner of my cot ; Fancy shall dwell upon the vale below, Where turrets glitter and where fountains flow; And Bidcombe's height rny musing thoughts employ Where winds waft health and every sound is joy. NOTES. NOTES Page 121. numerous sportsmen meet To match their rival dogs." v^oursing was a favourite amusement with our forefathers, nor was it altogether interdicted to Ecclesiastics. " Archieopiscopus Cant : et suc- cessores sui semel in quolibet anno cum trans- ierint per dictam forestam (de Arundel) cum una lesia de sex leporariis sine aliis canibus et sine arcu, habeant unum cursum in eundo et alium in redeundo." Spelman. Page 123. " Its life should yield an unresisting prey." "According to the established order of nature, the three methods by which life is usually put an end to, are acute diseases, decay, and violence. The simple and natural life of brutes is not often 188 NOTES. visited by acute distempers ; nor could it be deemed an improvement of their lot, if they were. Let it be considered therefore in what a condition of suffering and misery a brute ani- mal is placed which is left to perish by decay. In human sickness or infirmity, there is the assist- ance of man's rational fellow-creatures, if not to alleviate his pains, at least to minister to his necessities, and to supply the place of his own activity. A brute, in his wild and natural state, does every thing for himself. When his strength, therefore, or his speed, or his senses fail him, he is delivered over, either to absolute famine, or to the protracted wretchedness of a life, slowly wasted by scarcity of food. Is it then to see the world filled with drooping, superannuated, half- starved, helpless, and unhelped animals, that you would alter the present system of pursuit and prey?' 7 Paley. Page 128. gaz'd fondly on the whlten'd steep Where the aspiring monument records Granville's imperishable fame." The turnpike road over Lansdown, (where a NOTES. 189 monument is erected to Sir Beville Granville,) is plainly discerned from Bidcombe Hill. It was the scene of many a holiday sport. Page 130. " As Lysons learned, or as Sidney brave." Bath Grammar School (under the government of its late venerable and respected Master, Rev. Nathaniel Morgan) sent many young men into the world who have distinguished themselves in various departments of public life. Among these must be ranked a late distinguished an- tiquary, of whom the learned author of " the Pursuits of Literature'' makes the following mention : — " Samuel Lysons, Esq. F.R.S. and A.S. the most judicious, best informed, and most learned amateur antiquary in this kingdom in his department, Do lubeus manus Vitruvio. His work on the remains of the Roman Villa and Pavements at Woodchester, near Glou- cester, is such a specimen of ingenuity, un- wearied zeal and critical accuracy in delineating and illustrating the fragments of antiquity, as rarely has been equalled > certainly never sur- passed. Of the genius, judgment, knowledge, 190 NOTES* and perseverance of this gentleman, in the department he has undertaken, it is difficult to speak in terms of sufficient approbation." p. 355. Sir William Sidney Smith was educated in the same seminary. Gentlemen who were his contemporaries have reported that he gave prognostics of his fame in the adventures of early life. Page 130. "Thro' veins sulphureous and in mineral beds Their chrystal rills descend, and re-appear Reeking from caldrons." "While Bladud, the only son of Lud Hudibras, the eighth King of the Britons from Brute, was a young man, he by some accident or other, got the leprosy, and lest he should infect the nobility and gentry who attended his father's levee with that distemper, they all joined in an humble petition to the king, that the prince might be banished the British court. Lud Hudibras finding him- self under a necessity of complying with the petition of his principal subjects, ordered Bladud to depart his palace; and the queen, upon her parting with her only .son, presented him with a NOTES. 191 ring, as a token by which she should know him again, if he should ever get cured of this loath- some disease. The young prince was not long upon his exile, nor had he travelled far, before he met with a poor shepherd, feeding his flocks upon the downs, with whom after a little discourse about the time of the day and the variations of the weather, he exchanged apparel, and then endeavoured for employ in the same way. Fortune so far favoured Bladud's designs, that he soon obtained from a swine-herd, who lived near where Caynsham now stands, the care of a drove of pigs, which he in a short time infected with the leprosy : to keep this disaster as long as possible from his master's knowledge, he proposed to drive the pigs under his care to the other side of the Avon, to fatten them with the acorns of the woods that covered the sides of the neighbouring hills. Bladud had behaved himself so well in his service, and appeared so honest in every thing he did, that his proposal was readily complied with; and the very next day the prince provided himself with every thing- necessary, set out with his herd early in the morning, and soon meeting with a shallow part i$2 NOTES. of the Avon, crossed it with his pigs, in token whereof he called that place Swineford. Here the rising sun, breaking through the clouds, first saluted the Royal herdsman with his comfortable beams ; and while he was addressing himself to the glorious luminary, and praying that the wrath of Heaven against him might be averted, the whole drove of pigs, as if seized with a phrenzy, ran away, pursuing their course up the valley by the side of the river, till they reached the spot of ground where the hot springs of Bath boil up. The scum, which the water naturally emits, mixing with leaves of trees and decayed weeds, had then made the land about the springs almost over-run with brambles, like a bog, into which the pigs directly immerged themselves ; and so delighted were they in wallowing in their warm ouzy bed, that Bladud was unable to get them away, 'till excessive hunger made them glad to follow the prince for food : then by a satchel of acorns shook and lightly strewed before them, Bladud drew his herd to a convenient place to wash and feed them by day as well as to secure them by night; and then he made distinct crues MOTES. 193 for the swine to lie in, the prince concluding that by keeping the pigs clean and separate, the infection would soon be over among the whole herd. And in this pursuit he was much encouraged, when upon washing them clean of the filth with which they were covered, he observed some of the pigs to have shed their hoary marks. Bladud had not been settled many days at this place (which from the number of crues took the name of Swineswick) before he lost one of his best sows ; nor could he find her, during a whole weeks diligent search, till accidently passing by the hot springs, he observed the strayed animal wallowing in the mire about the waters, and on washing her, found to his great surprize and astonishment, that she was perfectly cured of her leprosy. The prince now began to consider that the same means by which the sow got her cure, seemed very likely to effect his own, and there- fore instantly stripped himself naked and plunged himself into the sedge and waters, wallowing in them as the sow and other pigs had done ; and repeated it every morning before he turned out his herd to feed, and every night after crueing 194 NOTES. them up : so that in a few days his white scales began to fall off, and by continuing every day to bathe in the mud and waters, he soon received (as well as his whole herd) the perfect cure he hoped and prayed for. Convinced of the powerful efficacy of these springs, Bladud returned home with his herd to his master, related to him the particulars just mentioned, and discovered who he was; at the same time assuring the swineherd of his pro- tection, and that as soon as he returned to court he would prevail on the king his father to make such presents as would fully reward him for his trouble. As soon as matters were prepared for the journey, the prince and his master set out for the palace of Lud Hudibras ; and after their arrival there, it was not long before Bladud found an opportunity, while the king and queen were dining in public, of putting the ring his mother had given him into a glass of wine that was presented to her ; which the queen, after drinking the liquor, no sooner perceived at the bottom of the glass, than she knew it to be the token she had given her son ; and with raptures cried out, ' where is Bladud my child?' At these words