(4':M lIKh ' ii- Hi /W/ tC^ THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES n 'Uirc^/zrc'J a '- ^. t ^ % s I AT 'C Til W KLS AxM) T\LKS IN \ KHSK. And •«tnoU br*i To their d<«r ci>untr3r. t««lou* » and blind. And food at U the love of womankind. g^,i _. ,1. . ....| hrr dcfrcta r»py, N< _ tnay ever fiitd. But. gazing on her with an awful ere And lapervtitiou* umU, her !e«rn to dctfy. fitlbtrl frttt'i Camto " On ikt Abute «/ Tntfcct from Mount tUigccumbc . ^ Sonnet on the Proi»pcrt from the Torr 'J on vioiting the ruuii of Cilmttonbury Ablx-y 10 at Chfton. after seeing King's \Ve»lon I I Tour in South Wale* . IJ II. Ill tro6j>cct at St. Asapli of our lUmhle in North Wales 'ij 111. Sonnet at Holywell 41 at Ijincastcr . 4J on Hc»t Hunk ... 43 on visiting the Ruins of Furnc»* Abbt\ -4 4 Pictures of the EugH>h l.jike» -4^ IV. •Address to Scotland . C3 Hic Falls of Clyde ... .05 First Tour through tJic Highland* . »J7 Sonnet at Stirling Castle . . 7S at Linlithgow . . .79 at Edinburgh ..... "^O Conclusion of the First Year's Tour . . i>l VI CONTENT'^. I'AKT TllK SECUNU. I. Return to Edinburgh . . • • Sonnet at Quccnsferry • ■ • • • at Kinross .••••• at Perth Second Tour through the Highlands II. Sonnet at Slanes Castle . . • • at the liuUers of Buchan . . •• at I'ctcrhcad ..•••• at Elgin . . . . ■ at the Coves of Cowsie .... at Forres ,...-• at Fort George . . . • • at Inverness ....•• A Rhapsody on reaching Duncansby Head 111. Third Tour through the Highlands, including a Voyage to lona and StafFa .... IV. Sonnet on passing through Tweeddale at Melrose .... at Kelso .... at Berwick .... at Bamborough Castle at Alnwick Castle at Warkworth at Newcastle .... Conclusion at York .... 85 87 88 89 90 105 lOG 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 rJ3 139 . 140 141 . . 142 143 . . 144 . 145 • . 14G 147 sr.NLMAKV 01' TIIK SKKTCliKS. TART Till-: riHST. Thk author started on this tour from South- junptou, fiijoyiiiij, with his di-ar compaiiior), the beautiful sylvan drive through l-.yi>durst to Lyni- iijgtou, where the v\e\s' of the Isle of \\ ighi kiniUcd their pleasing recollections. After having coasted Dorset and Devon from Mount Kdgecumbe, we had, in a variety of objects, an ample prospect for the contemplation of the glories of Britain, and felt gratified in the retrospection of our course. In passing over the verdant plains of Sedgemorc, to survey them in their vast extent, we ascended the Torr Hill, near Cilastoid>ury. This region brought to mind the names of Alfred and of the redoubted Arthur — the first from the monarch having taken refuge in the Isle of Athelney ; and the sec(md from tradition, giving to the hero his sepulture in Glaston- bury Abbey. vili S U M M A R Y OK T 11 K S K E T C II K5. In our walks alxmt ( lifton, and in the tlonuiin of King's Weston, whence wc behehl tlic country which we intended to traverse, we anticipated witli dehghl our progress. We traced, from C hepstow, nearly the whole of the coast of South and North \N ali-r*. After the fine view (»f the course of the Bristol Channel, the approach by Neath to Swansea is highly picturescjue ; the etTect of the copper works blasting the soil with their >ulpluireous influence, in its im- mediate vicinity, must strike every stranger, as well as the beauty of the Bay in which the town itf situated. Through Caermarthen we reached Tenbv, which fully answered our expectations of its marine at- tractions ; and from Pembroke floated into the ujjig- nificcnt harbour of Milford Haven. On passing from the reign of cultivation «hich clothes the circling hills of Haverford West, Saint David's, indeed, presents, in the dreary approach to it and on its melancholy site, how depopulated arc the realms of this part of the principality. The tract from Saint David's to Fishguard ex- hibits more strongly the effects of this picture ; when a very rough road, from our having deviated from the direct one, made this long stiige a most tedious operation, and the unfrequented Fishguard a most welcome resting-place. At this period our evil genius seemed to have been SUMMARY OF THK SKKTCHKS. IX tnirsuint^ US ; yrt, in llif mcMnorabk' and luiUouu' ilistaiioc from Cardigan, where ihtrt' waa notliing remarkable for arresting oui progress, tjur having got over this space was !«till a source of congrutuUi- tion. 'I'he Devil's Bridge and Ilaftni formed a plia'-iiii: conclusion of our tour in South Wales. Tlie vicinity of Machynlleth presented us with the first striking view of the romantic scenery of the principality, especially from an eminence whence we ga/etl upon a vast amphitheatre of iloud-capt hills. Our residence in the inn at .MinfTordd, at the foot of Cader Idris, while waiting for a favourable period for ascending the mountain, which we twice achieved to its summit, must make a lasting impression on our minds, as it evinces the first specimen of that spirit by which wi* were actuated in this way, Jind from which, in so miuiy instances, we derived so much gratification. Through Dolgelly and Jiarmouth we traversed another dreary region to Harlech, retaining the en- tire shell of its castle, situate at the edge of a rock. After the passage over the sands, at Tre-.Madoc, the Herculean labour of ^resting an immense tract from the sway of the ocean excited our warmest wishes for the success of so grand an undertaking; though, as we crossed from shore to shore on the embankmoit, we deplored its offering but an iiieffcc- X S I' M M A U V OK lilt sKKTCIIKs. tiuil barrier to the irrc^*istible i-lcnu-nt, which, we must observe, was tryini; its strength at the time with the uiiiteil lorce ot wiiul and tide. The vales of Festinioij and Ciwynant were now successively behehl. If the latter cannot l>oa.Ht the luxuriiuit beauty of the t'ornier, it possesses ita at- tractions in its wildness and varied grandeur, pre- senting, in one of its numerous windings, one of the loftiest peaks of Snowdon ; which, after many a cloudy, baOliiii; day, we reached in the manner de- scribed in the sketches, in an excursion from Car- narvon. We were charmed with the space onward by the captivating picture of the straits of Menai, through IJangor, to the foot of I'enmanmaur ; and, having gone along the shelf of this precipice and reached the extremity of the pass, the enchanting pro»|H'et, as it opened upon us, of Aberconway and its castle, with the cultivated country around them, can never be forgotten. \\ hen we had visited the monument of the first Edward's sway, we were ferried across the Conway, and cast a " longing, lingering look" on the scenes which we were quitting, on the retiring mountains^ and the Great Onne's Head, where, so bcddly pro- jecting, it frowned defiance to the angry element raging at its feet, and, with the landscape, rendered more sublime beneath a lowering sky. We reached Saint Asaph, and from the tower of > u M M \ K \ < » ^ I 1 1 h s K E T r n K s . xi its catlu'ilnil cnj(»yctl tlu' view of the Vale of C'lwyil, iK-iioininateil the liiliii of North \\ ales. Through the flourihiiin^ town of H«)lywell we coiu- iiieiiced another portion of our raiublcti. The approach to Lancaster (which the curious traVi'Uer oui;ht not to (|uit without visitint; the apire hih *' delicate touclies," and which my bketcli can only faintly portray. Having arrived at buch an engii^ing part of our travels, the charms of the scenes around us could not but kinille some zeal in my attempt to describe the beauties of the celebrateil Kni^lish lakes. On crossing, through Carlisle, the borders of the sister kingdoms for the first time, I would fain bear the reader along our route, and bring him to the stage from Douglas Mill to Lanark, comumnicatiug our feelings of admiration and delight at the falls and in the Dale of Clyde. « After the view of the commercial prosperity which Glasgow displayed, we became anxious to start in quest of those charms to whicli tlii- city (f)nducU> xii SIMMARV OF THE •« k k r f tl K S. the enraptured traveller, in the Kuhlime aiul beautiful track by Loch Loinoiui, Ivoch l^)J»g, and, over the mountains, by Loch Fine, to Inverary. On (juittinij Inverary, tiirough dlen A ray, we irraduallv ascended to Tyndruin, which has siuh an elevated site in the Hi^Milands, where, indeed, we might exclaim with the bard : — O, Caledonia! stern and wild. Meet nurse for a poetic child ! • Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood ! the effect of which we felt more forcibly at every step, in our winding drive around the base of IJi n More, continued through (ilen Dochart, and reaching from Callander the very regions made so famous in his song. We left the Highlands, and took a temporary fare- well view of them from Stirling Castle — glorious and enchanting prospect, which can never be obliterated from our recollections ! The fields of Bannockburn and Falkirk, with Lin- lithgow for the remains of its regal residence, came next under observation. We "were much interested in our approach to and during our stay in Edinburgh, acknowledging the view from Calton Hill to form the finest combi- nation. SUMMNHV OK III » sKKI( IIKS, XMI i»AHr Tni: mxom). \N r titartcd from Ki-swick, w hrrr \\*' had sojournrd duriiii; tlic winter, as soon as the state of the wea- ther permitted, od our seeoiid campaii^ii, in whirh our exertions eijuaUed lh(i>«e in our former one, and we had more cause to congratuhile ourselves upon our ^ood fortune. The road from CarlisU* to lulinhuri^lj is not a little indehteil for its charms to the classical celel)rity of the Esk, (iala, Tweed, llttrick, Yarrow, and Tiviot. On tjuittini^ Kdinhuri;h for the seconil time, I ha\e to note the pro>pecl down the Frith of Forth from tiie hill descending to Queensferry — Kinri»Sh, for the interest attachetl to the ruins of the t(iwer in the mitUt of its lake — and the charming excursion from thence tt) the Kumhliiii!; liriili^e. Devil's Mill, and Cauldron- Lin ; which exhihit the picturesque and curioujj wiiuling!< and falls of the Devon. In the approach to I'erth hy the old road, well niiijht the exclamation of the Romans of " Kccc Tiberim ! " on first beholding the Tav come to mind ; and, in the vicinity of the capital of .the most richly diversified Caledonian county, our impressions never can be effaced with regard to Scone, and the " Cilory of Scotland," as I^Minant calls the vifw from the sum- mit of the hill of Moncrief. From Ferth we resumed our course, alternately approaching and receding from the Tay, and taking XIV SL'MMAllY OK F II K -~KIiICIIKi. full time to contemplate its beautiful banks at [)un- keld, and at Kcnmore. After the survey of Breadalbane Castle, luwiy reared in a noble style, we started to make the tour of Loch Tay, dividing it at Killen : returnini^ to Kcnmore, we crossed Glen Lyon, and, mounting by the tou-ering Sheballion, called also the (iiant of Perpetual Storm, descended upon the wilds of heather, through which the Tummel flows ; and where, in visiting its Falls, we could have dis[)(*nse(l with the fall of the heavens on our heads. We at length arrived at Blair At hoi : whence, through the famous I'ass of Killicrankic, wc entered on as wild a highland tract as any we had traversed, ascending at a village called Pitlochrie, a very steep hill, and reaching, through a continuation of this wild mountain scene, the castle town, or w hat remains of it, of Braemar. Hence we explored the charms of another Strath, and from the Lin of Dee traced the course of this stream, making with it our egress from the High- lands at Pannanach, celebrated for its mineral water. On leaving Aberdeen we struck out of the high road, and, on reaching the objects of our pursuit in Slane's Castle, and the BuUer's of Buchan, found them well worthy of the pains we had taken. During our sojourn at Peterhead, an event took place which might well awaken our sympathy : it ■was the joyful arrival of a whaler, as was evinced by SlMMAKV I) K r II K SKETCH K>. XV the mutual cheers with which thi- return of the ad- venturers from their severe toils was hailed on shore by their friends. I hear on my ohservutions with noticing; in our proijress Mltjin, for the ruins of ius abbey; the Coves of Cowsie, curious excavations made by the sea on the Moray coast ; r<»rre» for iti^ ancient obelisk, called Sueno's Stone, near which the W eird listers are said to have accostet! Macbeth ; I'ort (ieori;e, from which an oflicer pointed out to us the (juarter where the Hattle of Cullmlen coinmencetl, in which his father and uncles were engaged on opposite sides, and Inverness. In the interval which elapsed between «)ur putting into execution one of our most interesting expedi- tions, we were not inattentive to the charming site of the most northern town of any note in the king- dom : where the Moray and Beaulv Friths are seen so beautifully to diverge, and where some of the most picturestjue Caledonian Alps, embellished with woods, pastures, and corn-fieKls, spreading up their sides from the valleys, display their majestic ridges. \\c at length started on our trip to John O'Groat's house ; in which our track was marked with its most striking features in the ascent of the Ord of Caith- ness, for the marine view which it commands, when we had surmounted its heights, in the drive along the Moors, in our descent to and rise from Berridale, and in our progress through Dunbeath and Clyth. XVI SIMM AKY OK IIIK SKKTCHKS. After the lonely regions we liatl traversed at such an unpropitious period, we cannot forget the change which Wick presented ; where we arrived in tiie nddst of the herring-fishery, and saw thi- numerous boats engaged in it. Our recollection of the dreary tract we had passed over made the way from Wick (as little, however, like a regular road as can be imagined) to Castleton a very easy task. This was fiuther effecled by our drawing so near the point of our and)ition : where, al\er visiting the site of John O'Ciroat's house, in casting a retrospec- tive view from Duncanshy Head, we enjoyed a rich portion of our rewards for our exertions. Having accomplished this much wished-for under- taking, and retracing our course to Inverness, when, by having more time and light, we managed the stage much better between Dunheath antl C lyth, for availing ourselves of an opportunity which might never recur, we felt more than our grateful hearts can express. \N'e quitted Inverness upon our last tour through the Highlands, which maybe thus subdivided. First, from Inverness along the chain of Lochs, the course of the Caledonian canal, to Fort William : in which I have to notice Loch Ness, the Fall of Fyres, Fort Augustus, Loch Oich, and Ben Nevis. As humble as are the traveller's quarters at Gene- ral's Hut, and at Letter Findlav, vet who that has a taste for exploring the charming scenes of Nature, SIMM All Y OK TIIK 8KKTCIIKS. \\ \\ can fall fccliut^ grateful fur the acciuisition of these <|uarters, as well as for the improvement of the path through these rei^ious, on recalling to mind the happy thought of the go(Jil-naturecl Iri^hman, who luost poetically exclaimed : — " HiiJ you »pt'n lh<'»i' rn«(l« In-forc thi-y were mado, Villi U(jtiKI )i>iM tip viiiir hi>i>.!'<, .'iii'l lili'Mt Marshal Wadi-!' \\ ith thankful hearts, then, hy this road we reached Fort ^Villianl : here, though we have to lament the unpropitious weather, for our otfceiit of Ben Nevis, still wc have the satisfaction of having gained the apex of the highest mountain in the Hritibh isles. The second subdi\ision consists in our drive, as detailed in my sketch from Tort VN illiauj to < )han. In the third subdivision I can hut faintly describe our highly-strung feelings, and the success which crowned our voyage, when the most favourably veering breeze, excepting the scpaall mentioned on our departure from Ulva, wafted us to lona and Staffa, and swiftly as the keel could cut the waves back fn^n Aros, down the engaging Sound of Mull, to Oban. And in the fourth subdivision my sketch can do as little justice to the pleasures of the drive from Oban along Loch Etive to Tynuilt, and to the bor- ders of Loch Awe ; having been ferried over which, wc soon began to retrace our course of the preceding year. b XVlll SI' M MARY OF T FI F, "^ K E T C II K <:. Favoured with the fificst wrather, wc concliidi'd in the ascent of Ben Lomond, and in our voyage to the isles on Loch Lomond, our romantic ranibles. With gratitude for the gratification which these rambles had afforded us, we quitted Luss on the banks of Loch Lomond, and arrived again at (ilas- gow : from which we traversed Scothmd in another direction, and entered Tweeddale, near I'eebles. The ruined sacred pile at Melrose, and the pro- spect from the summit of the "Cleft I'.ildoii Hill," were exhibited to our fancies, as, indeed, well worthy of awakening their poet's song. After paying our last tribute of admiration to the charms of the sister kingdom, which so luxuriantly adorn the vicinity of Kelso, wc arrived at Ikrwiek, and in our survey of this town could not refr.iin from congratulating it, as well as the realm at large, on the dilapidated state of its extensive fortifications. VVe proceeded from lUrw ick to visit the cii^tle of liamborough, where *' Charity hath fix'd her chosen seat," of Alnwick, where the Percies rear their crescent as far as ever from its wane, and of the de- serted time-struck Warkworth with its hermitage. At Newcastle we had reason to be satisfied with the completion of the hopes which animated our pas- sage through this city : this was no other than our plunge into a coal mine ; and I need not add with what joyful hearts we achieved the feat. From Durham to York well were we repaid in our SUM.MAHV of the 'iKKTMIKS. XIX ddtour by iri>li()i) Auckhuitl, unci in the tlclightlul (Irivr by R:il)y Castle. We next halted to svirvev the classical rei^iDii of Ikirnard Castle, ami, on crossing the " U'oodlaiul Tees," reached (Ireta IJridge, where, in exploring the charms of Rokeby, \ve concluded our vi^it8 to the choice scenes of the famed minstrel of the day. Making a further deviation to contemplate the pleasing site of Richmond, we reached Ripon, and perambulated the gardens of Studley, kept up in the old style, and embellished with the grand ruins of Fountain's Abbey. .\fter York and the combination of majesty and elegance in its .Min>ter. I have no more notes to olTer along the beaten path to lyondon. PART THE FIRST. I. SONNET TO THE ISLE OF WIGHT FROM LYMINOTON. RKTROSPECT FROM MOUNT LDGECUMBE. SONNLT ON THE PROSPECT FROM THE TORR. ON VISITING THE RL'INS OF GLASTONBURY ABBEY. AT C LIFTON, AFTER SEEING KINO's WESTON. TOl R IN SOUTH WALES. A THAN ELLEKS SKETCHES IX VEKSE. T 11 i; II o.M !■: Tor h. TART THE FIRST. SONNET TO THE ISLE OF WIGHT FROM LYMIXGTON. Vecta ! thouijh ;it a distance thou dost meet But with a transient view our kindling sight, ^^'hc^c the bare Needles lift their chalky height, With a brief sonnet can I fail to greet Thee, whose dear memory my bosom warms? Enchanting Isle ! O may that favVing sun Shine on the course that we're about to run, Beneath which we so oft have hail'd thy charms ! b2 SONNET. Enchanting Isle ! remembrance brings the hour, What time, to lead our roving steps afar, Propitious when arose our wand'ring star Its cheering lustre on our path to pour — Our path illumin'd by its orient beam Along the banks of thy Medina's glitt'ring stream. a RETROSPECT FROM MOUNT EDGECUMBE. I. Rejoicing as we climb thy verdant height, Mount Edgecumbc ! where, on our enraptur'd sight, Nature and art, and strength and beauty, vie To charm the heart and captivate the eye ; With such to fill her fancy with delight. Say, can the Muse resist another flight? Her verse with those choice flow'rets to array Which retrospection scatters o'er her way ? Along the margin of thy shore, Britannia, as her steps explore The Garden of thy beauteous Isle,* As well thy Poets deem the while : To lead th' enraptured bard along Where bloom the fairest realms of song ; Cer which, unweary'd, he may range, Beholding such a frequent change * Some apology may be due for this distinction, as I am aware that other provinces, besides Devonshire, of our island lay claim to it. () IIETROSI'KCT KKOM M O f N T h I) (. K CI' M H K. Of plain :iiul u'ooiUanci, hill ami dale, That, with such vary'd charms, prevail. II. Though, where bright Ocean turns his face On scenes array'd with every grace, 'J he loveliest \;iiatl.> ol the land We hail along Devonia's strand ! Although the Sid, and Ex, and Teign, Might for awhilo our course restrain ; Yet, on a distant voyage bent, Like passage-birds we nind>ly nent. Until the Dart, gay nature's pride, Bore us upon its glitt'ring tide. III. * O ever may the stream of Time, Like thine which prompts this grateful rhyme, Enchanting Dart ! gay nature's pride ! Bpar us upon its glitt'ring tide ! May Fortune dip for us her oar, Like that along thy past'ral shore I UE^K()^1•KC^ KICO.M MuLNi EUGKClllUK. / Winging our course ! like fairy dreams, W liiii', sweetly, through u vista, gleauis Tile past, where Meuiory loves to rove, Retreading every lawn and grove, Willi which delightful Devon fills Her blooming plains and verdant hills : The future opening to our view, For ever charming, ever new — Now, where the stream, with staiten'd course, Flows with its utmost rapid force ; Anon, more gently when we glide, ^^ here, circling in theatric pride, We view its pendent sylvan grace Reflected in its glassy face : Till, where the rolling ocean laves Its widening bays with bigger waves, We steer to greet the frequent sail Swelling before the fresh'ning gale ; The while, alternate to our eyes. The village and the villa rise : Nor let the fisher, by his cot. Mending his tackle, be forgot, 8 RETROSPECT FROM MOL'NT EDGECUMBE. Riding at anchor where wc mark In yonder cove his little bark. i\ . Though more than in a thousand ways, Vaga, thy stream, meand'ring plays ; Although the monuments oi pride * Adorn thy steep majestic side, Where, still, with lordly frowning towers, The castle fierce defiance lowers — The abbey's ivied windows seem Still with its tapers' lights to gleam, \\ here but the moon pours her lone beam ; — Along a bolder length of coast Than aught the charming Dart can boast j Vet here a voyage we complete, Though shorter far, yet not less sweet ! * Alluding to the ruins of T intern Abbey and Chepstow Castle. SON N ETS. SONNET ON THE PROSPECT FROM THE TORR, NEAR GLASTONBURY. Sedgcinoie, for willows (hmk so vast i\ bed! What ken, survcyiiii^ hence tiiy marshy plain, Can doubt it rescued from the tyrant main? Hence, in its ancient fam'd extent outspread, Which we now view, by musing fancy led. The Roman and the Saxon foe distain. 'Twas there, before the fierce marauding Dane, Awhile the noble royal Exile fled To Athelney, into tiie neatherd's shed ; To bind it with their wavy magic zone \\ here Parret hastes to meet the rapid Thone, Forming a refuge for great Alfred's head : Whence, bursting from beneath a cloud, he shone \\ ith sunlike radiance, to resume his throne. 10 SONNKTS. SONNIVr ON VISITING THE IIUINS OF GLASTONBURY Al HEY. Hire, liapi)} pilgrims., as yc take your way (Mcthiuks, amid the triumphs of his pou'r, 1 hear the voice of tlie Destroyer say, Where he invites us at this solemn hour), Here, pilgrims, pause ! ami, musing, ga/e the while The ruins which the tide of Time o'erwhclms — How few the remnants of as prou^l a pile As bigotry e'er boasted in these realms ! \\ here but some mould'ring walls and towVs remain. On which the nuuilling foliage 1 ent^\•iIle — Here, pilgrims, pause, far happier than the train That erst I saw approach this splendid shrine — 'I'his wondrous spot, which legends old adorn. Where Arthur sleeps and blooms the Holy Ti)orn. >ONNKTS. II SONNET AT CLIFTON. AFTER SEEING KING'S WESTON. Kfiiow iRcl Avon ! who can range thy side, Nor feel, like us, through every kindling vein. The wish to pour the gratel'ul flowing strain, Whom health and pleasure lead along thy tide? Lo ! here her western walk, by Clifton's Spring, Where pausing Contemplation would review — And where, arrayed with every changing hue, IMume, for another flight, her joyuus wing ! — Hence, onward, as she takes her destined way, And from thy charming park, King's Weston, hails, Beneath the opening morn's auspicious ray, Thy fair inviting scenes, romantic U'ales I To kindle all the roving Muse's fire Well may the prospect thus her strain inspire. J 2 TOUE IN SOUTH WALES. INVOCATION TO CAMBRIA. Hail, Cumbria, to thy solitary shore ! Which as, with anxious ken, we contemphite, Thy richly varied regions to explore, What pleasures may we here anticipate ! The wand'rers, who their course prepare to steer, Such musings cannot fail to prompt the while ; The wand'rers, who, with awe-struck steps, draw near To gaze upon Saint David's ruinM pile. Thou, who these meditations dost awake. Hail, sacred shade ! hail, tutelary saint ! The wand'rers now beneath thy guidance take. Thy varied landscapes who would strive to paint. N, TO IK IN SOU I II WAI-KS. 13 Hail, Cambria ! whose fam'd realms we pant to trace, Where Beauty and Sublimity combine, The rival Sisters, to bestow their grace. To which fair Freedom adds her charms divine ! THE TOUR. I. Rejoice, O Cambria, now rejoice, And lift, O lift, thy grateful voice At the fair scenes thou dost supply In peace to charm thy wand'rer's eye O'er cultivated hill and dale. In view where Commerce spreads her sail, Sabrina,* till thy chariot rides No farther on the swelling tides ; O'er which, oft, from his boiling deep Old Ocean's boisterous Tritons sweep ! * By the rushy fringed bank Where grow the willow and the osier dank, My sliding chariot stays. Comvs. 14 TOFR IN SOUTH WALKS. II. Soon winding through the Vale of Neath That sends up many a smoky wreath, With joy we linger to survey The peerless charms of Swansea Bay. III. Hence, Towy, through " thy shady dale," Which every poet's eye must hail, We passM and cross'd thy past'ral flood ; There, gazing on its charms, we stood, Where, once, Carmarthen, so renown'd, You hanging rock thy castle crownM. IV. Hail, Tenby, thence, another boast Of Southern Cambria's charming coast ! In halcyon sleep so still thy flood, The sea-fowl eye the scaly brood In its translucent bosom play. Like mountain-hawks poisM o'er their prey ; I O If R IN SO V r H W A L E S. 15 On which they plunge, and up tliey spring Triumphantly with dripping wing, And, with a transient ruffle, stain The broken mirror of the main : Along whose awful-beetling verge, To which tlie gently falling surge Uplifts its lulling sounds, we stray, And, from its pleasing hciglits, survey Unmooring from their beauteous bay The fishers' barks, to ply their toils By moonlight, where the ocean smiles Round Caldy and Saint Margaret's Isles ; The while more grandly in the shade Yon time-struck towers rise display'd. V. Rejoice, O, Cambria, now rejoice, And lift, O lift thy grateful voice ! Rejoice that from thy ruin'd towers No longer stern oppression lowers 1 No longer o'er each subject plain Thy hostile feudal tyrants reign ! 10 TOUR IN SOUTH WALKS. But that such walks thou dost supply In peace to charm thy wand'rer''s eye, As that, where earth and ocean bright, Along this fair commanding height To Pembroke, meet his rapturVl sight : — Though here, again, he doth survey » A moss-clad ruin'd castle grey, O let him not its lot deplore Still gracing yon receding shore ! Where e'er upon thy charming tide Each son of Albion's bark should glide, O Milford, till with patriot pride On thy capacious opening Haven he doth ride ! O let him there, exulting, note Her proudest bulwarks there afloat ! Where, land-lock'd, it is seen to form A lake secure from every storm. Combining in the favoured scene Britannia's strength and lovely mien. VT. Hence, further, to engage his sight, Hence, Holford,* to thy pleasing height, * Haverford West. • TOUR IN SOUTH WALES. 1/ Profusely where the circling hills The reign of cultivation fills, With these to gladden his survey There should each son of Albion stray ! Whence, onward, he must iove to range. Where cause to muse upon the change Of sublunary things the mind Of every wanderer may find ; And cannot fail to mourn the while, Saint David ! o'er thy ruined pile. VII. Due thanks thence from our hearts you claim, O Fishguard, of unclassic name ! For shelter to each way-worn frame ; And for the pleasant course we ran Next day, refresh'd to Cardigan : Whence, with such raptur'd gaze, we hail Cilgarran's captivating vale, Where wood, and rock and ruin'd tower. So richly wave, and darkly lower, c 18 TOUR IN SOUTH WALES. Upon its lofty shelving side ; While clown the rapid Tivy glide, With net and paddle, oft we mark The fisher in his wicker* bark. VIII. - Ah me ! what toil and trouble wait Upon this sublunary state I How all the various roads of life With difficulties seem so rife ! O'er which you oft exult in vain, Vaunting the triumphs that you gain. Presumptuous Man ! with conquest flushed, When, to the goal with ardour pushM, You think your course that you can steer To crown with rapture your career, What sudden disappointment clouds Your pathway and your prospect shrouds — Lengthens your labours, so opprest. Till you can only sigh for rest ! * The coracle. TOUR IN SOI Til WALES. 19 IX. Yet, as our journey we pursued, With strength and spirits unsubdued, The emblem the departing sun Then of the course which we had run — The emblem which his glory gave Upon the gilded western wave, When bursting forth magnificent We hailed the ocean, as we went Along a shelf of tow'ring coast. We felt that emblem we might boast — Our kindled fancies might inspire, And with new zeal our bosoms fire ! When in the deep those beams were set We reached Llanry^^ted, where we met The Cambrian (no " Corinthian boor ") Who hospitably op\l his door. X. And now, elate with joy, we reach The much frequented wish'd-for * beach, ♦ Aberystwith. c2 20 TOUR IN SOU 111 WALKS, Where their accumul'.ited store The Uhyddol and the Ystwith pour ; And, from the connueiice of these streams (To prompt a poet's rapt'rous dreams), The Uhyddol \vc, delighted, trace MeandVing with enchanting grace 'I'tj wht-re, npon his (Kep-sunk bed The wiklefd Mynach rests his head, So dizzy with the dreadful fall Which every eyesight must appal. XI. With such a thrilling deep alarm Hath Pont-ar-Fynach * power to charm The awe-struck fancy : thus we stood ^^'here, far beneath us, the dash'd flood We heard in trouble and turmoil That made our startled steps recoil ; And quit the dread o'erarching ground That spans the awful gulf profound. ♦ The Devil's Bridge. XII. \\'lu'rc\ with thy c^ciiius tr) hofricnd My verse, Salvator, now descend, To view adown its shaj^iry side In all its lencjth the tunihliiii^ tide! Explore with us this savage glen Congenial to thy raptur'd ken ! Ben<*ath thy influence let us tread This wilderness so deep, so dread — Mert', wiiere thy Saint John * might have taught His lore with hi-av^nly fervour fraught ! XIII. Yet, let us not too long delay Thy sojourn from the light of day, And damp, O Muse, thy flagging plume Within this chine's horrific gloom ! Joyous, escap'd, hetice let us haste Across the intervening waste, • Alluding to Salvator Rosa's picture of Saint John preaching in the wilderness. 22 TO UK IN SOUTH WALKS. AVherc, in the rising heights around, We view the Southern Cambriii's bound. XIV. Like the first pahii-trecs that arise Skirting a sand-girt paradise, From the thin-scattered pines we hail Upon the borders of thj- vale, Ystwith, to where we sink so deep. What varied foliage decks each steep ! How do thy sylvan charms increase Till they enrich thy realm of peace ; Where favour'd with a wider ^^pace Thy silver- winding course we trace: Where if within their favourite seat Her Cambrian sisters she may greet, Nor they a welcome kind refuse To an ambitious British Muse, Her song their Hafod's pride proclaims Like a bright phoenix from the flames ! * * Alluding to the destruction by fire of the first edifice erected here. II. RETROSPECT AT ST. ASAPH OF OUR RAMBLE IN NORTH WALES. HKTKOSPECT AT »SAI\T .LSAIMI OF UUR KAMP. L I'] 1 X XOHT II W A I.MS. I. Though, Canihria ! \vc nuisit bid thy scenes farewell. For ever must their deep impression dwell Upon our hearts — for ever we must feel How thou inspir'd our spirits with that zeal Romantic, thy renowned heights to climb, And roam, Britannia, through thy realms sublime ! II. Say, Dovey,* who can cross thy wizard stream. And borne to such enchanting regions seem, ♦ Which divides North from South Wales. 20 RETROSrECT AT SAINT ASAPH Nor, Gwyncth, gaze around in ecstacy When you hurst forth upon his charmed eye? Say, can thy harp, which hath so often runi; Upon my ravishM ear — thy harp though strung To mock the feehle efforts of mine own — Not wake those efforts with its powerful tone ? For, like the pilgrim, Kctiron,' in thy vale Listening the wondrous strains that swell thegale— The realms so beautiful, so wild, so grand, And faui'd as fair, O Cambria, of thy land, Their wand'rer's kindled fancy must inspire With Tallics. l)e>icle thee, where its course recalls The times, when mournfully 'twas heard to glide, In cadence to the dismal-chaunting swell That shook the depth of this sequestcr'd dell, With which the breezes, too, in concert sigh'd : — Where, Bigotry ! around thy moss-clad pile, Beneath thy scatter'd clouds to fancy's eye (Like those dispers'd in yonder clear blue sky). This evening sheds upon the scene the while A charm so glowing, calm, and full of grac(f. The pencil of a Claude could only trace ! 45 riCTURES OF THE ENGLISH LAKES. rilOEM. O Nature ! source of pure delit^hl ! Ne'er tines thy sovereign sway impart Such beauty to tliy [tooi's sight — Such rapture to tl»y vot'ry's heart. As when tliy peerless charms are seen Ciraeinj^ with rock anJ vesture green The margin of some lovely lake ; On which his fancy cannot fail Thee with its joyful notes to hail, And feel its utmost pow'rs awake. There, when no ruffling breezes pass, The blissful calm of life we view Reflected in the liquid glass, Holding to heav'n a mirror blue : Or when, its mirror to deform And vex it to a little storm, 46 PKTURES OF THE ENGLISH LAKES. O'er tlic small ocean sweeps the gale, If we begin to ply the oar Soon can we reach the neighb'riiig shore — Soon find a port to lurl our sail. Where Britain's fairest Naiads dwell Fain would I sound the tuneful shell » Amid their echoing mountains wild; Fain would I raiso the lyric strain To celebrate their charming reign, Till all their lovely landscapes round me smil'd : Until my kindling verse proclainij Though variously arrayed, yet equal shines their fame. I. COMSTON. As, in some fond and faithful breast, The image, that is first impress'd Beneath the glowing seal of love, No future object can remove — 9 » PICTURES OK THE ENGLISH LAKES. 4J Of thee the traces mem'ry left 15y time can never, never be bereft. Thee would the Muse tiiank witli a song, Whose beauteous winding banks along Her footsteps enter'd his domain, \\ here, thron'd on rocks in grandeur pil'd To lleav'n and deck'il with scenerv wild, The Cienius of the Lakes holds his romantic reiirn. Yet, when these regions she began to hail. These regions not less beauteous than sul)lime, The frowning mountain and the smiling vale Inspired her fancy with alternate rhyme : — Still with increasing rapture she pursu'd Her way until she reach'd its distant head. The station where the liquid plain she view'd In all its wide extended glory spread. Thus, Nature, as you prompt the strain Where the first Naiad holds her reign, Bj^ whom our rambling steps are led Thy fair secluded scenes to tread. There may we for our country's weal Still own the warmest patriot-zeal ! 48 PICTURES OK T H K K N «. I. I ^ 1 1 I. A K K S. As throiin^li tliy lonely (l:ilcs we wind 'I'licro may the love of humankind, Midst the blest quiet they bestow, Unquencird within our bosoms glow ! TI. ESTHWAITE. 'Ihen as vour verdant banks so fair, O Ksthwaite, spread before our sight, Unboastful nymjih ! your past'ral air May fill your poet witli delight. Though, midst sublimer scenes, perchance. Which such romantic joys inspire, Your unobtrusive charms may glance And kindle but a transient fire — Yet, where can lovely Nature lead Her vot'ry to a choicer seat Than where its beauteous lake and mead Embellish, Belmount, thy retreat? Sweet region ! where your features mild, So tranquillizing, meet his view, And where the mountain-background wild Fades softly in its azure hue. PICTURES OK IHE ENGLISH LAKES. 49 III. WINDKKMKRE. Thence, say, what expectations swell His breast as he ;?urniounts the fell, When, winding round the rocky heigiit, Beneath yon broken scar his sight Surveys the grandly opening scene. In which shines forth the Lakes* fair Queeti ! Queen of the Lakes ! The Station well niaj- be Thy throne, whence, with such rich variety, Thou dost behold thy licpiid empire spread From FiiLstead Hill to tow'rin II I. A K K S . .') 1 ArrayM in iiaturc's richest pomp, combine Their splendours in Glenricklen, Greisdale, iiiid Gleiicoin Not less enraptur'd wc pu.siK' Our course along her mirror blue, Reflected in whose face we view — IngulfM in rocks sublime So stilly when- its waters sleep — The various richly- wooded steep — Or, jutting far into the deep, Grey with the moss of time; — As by the fairy-scene * we glide, Upon its lofty shelving side Decking the crags with dress so fair. And smiling, midst a gay parterre : — Then, winding, beauteously embay'd, Beneath its hanging woods delay'd, Where, on the opening banks, we mark, Gowbarrow, thy wild scatter'd Park — There, Lyulph, where its shades embow'r The turrets of thy Gothic 'I'ow'r, As still uprear'd in feudal pow'r: — * The villa of the Revd. Henry Askew in Glenridden. e2 52 PICTURES OK THK ENGLISH LAKES. Thus we speed onward, till \vc make The triple trendings of the Lake By Hallsteads, on, with ecstacy, From Eusemere Hill to charm our eye: \\'hcrc as the widi-ly wand'ring Muse Can, Emont, scarce thv voice refuse To join thy progress to Dalemain, She liears the Genius to his reign, The Genius of the Lakes, recall her rambling strain. V. RYDAL Neglected, in thy wild attire, Where, Rydal, thou dost next inspire And well canst spare a reed For me to try my skill, And with its notes so shrill To strive to give thy charms their tuneful meed In vain, along thy sedgy shore We pant those beauties to explore riCTURES OF THE K S C. L I b II LAKES. f^'S Which tliy more favour'd Sisters grace — Where thou disphiy'st thy haggard face Like some bewilder'd maid, Reclining on thy rocks \\'ith thy long dripping locks. That with wild rushes hang array 'd. Yet, here the musings of each mind Full scope may for its fancy find — Thee silent, sad, and desolate. Still love, lorn nymph ! to contcmi)late : — The barren rocky islets which you rear, Silver'd by age, with moss imbrown'd. Whilst others, in thy marshy lake, appear VVith dark'ning pines and weeping birches crown'd Whom thus th}' genius loves to rule. Overlooking, from yon crag, some lone Norwegian pool. VI. GRASMERE. When lo ! what region seems to rise In Eden's richest colours drest ? 54 PICTURES OF THE ENGLISH LAKES. What " unsuspected Paradise " Doth, Muse, thy waiurriiii; steps arrest? 'Tis, Grasniere, thy encliantiui^ vale, Where no vain worldly cares intrude ; \\ here nature's warmest lovers hail The sweetest haunts of solitude. O how proiusely here the lianil Of sinilini:^ cultivation fdls So fair a tract of fairy-land, High up its beauteous circling hills ! How brightly, by yon steeple's side, With silver-serpentizing stream. Feeding the lake with ample tide, The waters of the Rothay gleam ! VII. WYBL'KN. Whence, Nature, as thy pilgrim strays Beyond the cairn of Dunmail Raise, Beyond where next his curious gaze PICTURES OF THK ENGLISH LAKKS. JD " Thcc, savage W'yburn," greets (Like those, who love now to retrace * That dale of grandeur and of grace, Along the mountain's mighty base, With their romantic feats) : — VVHien with the well- wrought mystic talef (As opens on his view the Vale Of Saint John) deep imprest — More deeply there the Castle Rock Doth now the pilgrim's fancy mock, Its magic stands confest. VIII. DERWENT AND BASSLNrilWAlTE. Still, onward, as the pilgrim strays, xVnd, from that glorious height,^ surveys, Link'd with their silver chain, The Naiads that maintain ♦ Alluding to oar Rambles in this Region. t The Bridal of Trierraain, by Sir Walter Scott. I Castlerigg Brow. 56 PICTURES OF THE ENGLISH LAKES. Their empire o'er their gorgeous Vale, Say, Nature, can tli' enthusiast fail To raise to thee his song of highest praise ? Say, Keswick, can I there refuse The inspirations of the Muse, \V'^lien the auspicious hours we hail Thy Skiddaw's purple crest to scale? Th' expanding prospects to connnand Around the giant of thy land ? Then, Derwent, when thy charms invite To fill thy wand'rers with delight ? To compass with their steps thy shore? To listen to thy voice, Lowdore, When, swollen with the melting snows. More fierce thy foaming torrent flows ? When, Castle Crag, thy point we climb, To gaze upon the scene sublime Of Borrowdale, the region wild Of tow'ring rock on rock up-pil'd ? Say, can the Muse unheedful range Through thy romantic realm, O Grange, » PICTURES OF THE ENGLISH LAKES. 57 To Newland's cultivated vale, Up to its verge at Keskadale ? Pursuing thence our Alpine track, Until we ken the cataract That murmurs down the lonely dell — And, where as we surmount the fell, The awful deptii of hills descry To roam there with a charmed eye. IX. BUTTERMERE, CRUMMOCK, AND LOWES WATER. There, where again my fancy seems to climb, Huge Honister, thy rocky side sublime — As when to range upon thy crag I came. And from their heathy cover rouse the game — As on thy brow (though with no murd'rous gun) To hail the glories of the rising sun, Awe-struck, to thy commanding verge I stray'd, And the whole valley at thy feet survey'd ; That with its triple Naiads'* empire gleams, Reflecting, as they catch, the solar beams. r>8 !• I C T U R K S OK T H K K N G L I S H LAKES. X. ENNKRDALR There — spreiul out, like a carpet, with rich meads, To wliorc ill azure distance it recedes, That valley — our romantic path proceeds ; — We own the c^uidance of our golden star As deep into that vale we rove alar — And issue thence thy trancpiil scene to hail. Secluded, solemn, soothing, Ennerdale ! There, where thy liquid mirror to our eye I'^xpands beneath the bright cerulean sky, Save where yon passing summer-cloud appears Upon the top the mighty Pillar rears, Chief of the ridge, that, with its rocky screen, Guards, at the dale-head, the sweet peaceful scene. XI. WAST WATER. Nor can their varied path thence fail to please The pilgrims, Calder, as they come the while, Excursive, by Whitehaven and Saint Bees, To gaze upon thy ruin'd sacred pile — PICTURES OF THK ENGLISH LAKES. oO The circuit which the willing wiintrrcrs miike, O Naiad ! to thy grand sequester'd Lake — There, where, majestic Wastdale ! who can trace Thy realms? (each, with his intersecting hase. Where, with their towVing monarch, huge Scawfcll, The loftiest English Alps are seen to swell) Ah ! who his raptur'd way can take Along the margin of thy Lake, Nor, awe-struck, tremble as he sees Th* enormous and impending crags of Screes? Then, Wastdale, when his steps shall tread Thy realms to their majestic head, O may no noontide sky serene ! (Ill-suited to the awful scene) May not the garish eye of day Shine on those heights with cloudless ray ! But, as they frown, wrapt in their changeful clime, O may its misty veil invest The half-hid mountain's rugged breast, IlluminM by the frequent gleams Of the piercing solar beams. To make him own a picture most sublime ! 60 PICTURES OF TH K K NG I. I ■^Fl LAKES. XII. HAWES WATER. Thus thou, who, with thy guardian hand, Hast Ifd us o'er thy awful land ! So far, where, still so charni'd, we hail, Through Hampton's sweetly opening vale, The beauteous-varied realms sublime, Britannia, of thy northern clime ! To where, to our admiring gaze, The last fair Naiad * now displays Her not the least enchanting reign, Recounted in his raptur'd strain — O thou good (ienius of our Isle ! Who now through Penrith and Carlisle Dost seem to raise his rambling song, Thy friendly guidance still prolong ! And, onward, with thy sway inspire Thy humble wand'ring minstrel's lyre ! ♦ Hawes Water. IV. ADDRESS TO SCOTLAND. THE FALLS OF CLYDK. FIRST TOUR THROUGH THE HK.H LANDS. SONNET AT STIRLING CASTLE. AT LINLITHGOW. AT EDINBURGH. CONCLUSION OF THE FIRST YEAR'S TOUR. EXTRAXCE INTO SCOTLAND. ADDRESS TO SCOTLAND. Rapt in romantic visions of delight, O Caledonia ! liow our anxious sight, When first within thy borders, gaz'd around I As if, by his enchanted circle bound And subject to some wizard's potent reign, We trod the fearful realms of his domain — But ah ! not long extending our survey Where Nature, simple Nature, holds her sway, We found our sight that sovereign could entrance Beyond the boasted rulers of romance ! And, seated on her Southern Highland throne, Could make us, in our charmed progress, own All Hope had painted, or all Fancy plann'd, Exceeded in the beauties of thv land. — 64 ADDRESS TO SCOTLAND. Such, Caledonia, the vast range of hills With meditation which their wand'rer fills : Whence as he traces thy meand'ring course, Engaging Current ! from its secret source, He starts, he stops, until thy Falls, O Clyde, Smite his stunn'd ear with deep-felt awe descried 65 THE FALLS OF CLYDE. I. Oh ! what a charm this walk imparts To our anxious beating hearts ! From where we catch the rising din Of far resounding Corra Lin — From where, 'twixt waving foliage, flash, Till, full in view, the waters dash. Indignant, with a voice so hoarse, 'Gainst the vast crag which turns their course. Where they have scoop'd, with ceaseless sweep, Their rockj' channel dark and deep. II. Thence, sated, up the steep sublime With ardent panting breasts we climb, Gazing, in romantic mood. Through the hanging opening wood, Upon the deep-sunk, sounding flood, V 66 niK KAI.LS OK ( LYDE. Its wandVings where we now pursjue Till Bonnitoii next foams to view. in. Unwearied, whence, our charming way When we retrace to Lanark gay, Well, Lanark, may tiiy Country's pride Turn our willing steps aside Among the Crags,* with curious ken To seek thy hero's shelt'ring den ! And with their stream -f pursue our way. Bursting to the light of day, \N here, with its trihutary tide. It joins the swelling course of Clyde To rush, Stonebyres, adown your steep With furious triple-bounding leap — Thence, in capacious bed, to glide Through the enchanting regions M'ide Of Clydesdale's glorious cultivated pride. • Cartlane Crags. t The Mouse. • 67 FIRST TOUR THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. I. What rapture fills the roving mind ! \^'hat joy to wander unconfiird, O Nature ! where thou dost supply With such a rich variety Of wood and water, rock and glen, Thy ardent votry's charmed ken ! Whose pencil feebly doth portraj' Where, pausing first upon our way, We burst upon the view of Clyde * Where she devolves in all her pride — And when, amid her liquid plain, Thy castle's bifork'd rock we gain, Dumbarton, where our anxious sight First greets Ben Lomond's tow'ring height, • At Dalnotter. f2 G8 Kill ST TOIR Ben Voirlich, and the vast array Of Highlands, as they fade away In azure distance to our rapt survey. II. There, flowing; with such past'ral grace, Loven, thy course we love to tracb " Hy bow'rs of birch and groves of pine, And hedges tlow'r'd with eglantine," Till, with " the charming maze they make," We reach thy *' waters' parent Lake." in. There, where, awhile, the Muse must pause- Where Nature both delights and awes ; There, where the goddess first she greets And in her Highland-portal* meets : Where, Stronehill, from thy favVing height She next directs our curious sight — Where every mountain, field, and glen, Each haunted wood, stream, fairy-isle, ♦ At Luss. THROUGH IHK 111 (.11 LANDS. 69 Lie open to our raptur'd ken, And grandly frown, and sweetly smile. IV. By savage glens, by torrents wild, By the vast ridge to heav'n up-pil'd — By where, midst his attemhint peers. His brow, like Saul, their nionareh * rears, Lo ! then around that point -j- we wind, Loch Lomond, where we cast behind l^pon thy smooth and bright expanse A longing, ling'ring, farewell glance : Until, enclos'd, our course we take Beside the dread contracting lake. Where, like a river, dark and deep. It rolls betwixt each tow'ring steep. V. \^'hen, Tarbet, soon thy realms we tread. By which our wand'ring steps are led ♦ Ben Loiuuud. t ^he Point of Firkin. 70 FIRST TOUR Deep in the Highland tract afar Of grand rt)niantic Arroquhar, Supreme, anuil the solemn dale, Ben Artur, where thy rngged brow we hail Upon the borders of that desert * drear, Where the few fishers' huts that cheer The margin of the ocean-tide t Which deep into that dale doth glide — Where the few shepherd- shiels we meet With, mighty mountains ! at your feet, There all, betwixt your tow'ring portals, disappear — Approaching where with awe we view The savage grandeur of Glencroe; Whose aspect more terrific frown'd Upon us, in its prison bound By yon stupendous rock X — But, when its arduous steep we try, And gain the height which thus could mock Our vision, with exulting eye • Glencroe. t Loch Long. X The eminence with the inscription on it of " Rest and be thankful." * THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 71 We hail — with hearts so grateful at our lot — The mark'cl Memorial on the wish'd-for spot! VI. VVhetiee, as, beneath the low'ring skies, A waste * as cheerless seems to rise, What guiding genius will befriend Our progress to its journey's end? Or are we doom'd to contemplate Our own approaching awful fate In yon devoted shiv'ring form. At the bleak pelting of the storm ? VII. Desponding and ignoble thought ! With heart with higher courage fraught, Lo ! as yon hardy plaided form Defies the pelting of the storm — As thus, when boldly forth he stalks. We cross the shepherd in his walks — * Glen Kinlass. /2 FIRST TOUR Wrapt in thy mantle, Fortitude ! May wc, with spirits unsubdu'd, Encounter each tempestuous liour — Till, on the passing of the showV, Such an enchanting view doth greet Us, 'twixt yon mountain's opening sweet, Beneath th' autumnal calm that fills Yon woods, and meads, and mighty hill.sj And makes their glorious image shine In the smooth mirror of Loch Fvne. Soon, on a level with its glass. Beside that noble flood we pass ; And, pausing at its stately head Behold its licjuid plain outspread Beneath that sky so calm, so clear, Which decks the northern waning year. Where its moist regions to the west Gleam with such genial sunshine blest. TllK()L'(j|| rilK II K; IMA N l)S. 73 And smile beiieiith October^s sway As on ii showVy April day : — Where round the screening point we sweep Projecting fur into the deep, And burst at once upon the scene ! Embay'd, so lovely, there between, We view, Loch Tyne, thy tranquil flood, Where town and castle, lawn and wood. With Dunicoich's inverted cone In autunni's various vestment, shone. Reflected in the roseate light Of eve to our enchanted sight. IX. O Inverary ! dcop imprest Thy station reigns within our breast ! Thy richly variegated groves Our ever-musing mem'ry roves — The glen, through which the Shiray winds, Which, like an Eden, charms our minds ; Still do we feel the heav'nly glow 74 FIRST TOUR Whlcli made our highest spirits flow, Which autumn's clear aurora doth bestow. X. \\'heiice, as we trac'd tlie winding way Through thy romantic dale, Aray, Just gleaming, in our course, we saw The beauteous bosom of Loch Awe ; And on thy lovely fading glen, Dalmaly, fix'd our charmed ken. Ascending thence that region wild, U'^here many a stranger lowland-child, So far, rejoicing, where they roam, Most welcome find their Highland home — The humble hostel which they gain In Tyndrum's desolate domain. XI. The morn, again, smiles on our path. Saint Fillan, through thy far-famed strath, Around the base of husre Ben More Wrapt in his frosty mantle hoar : 9 THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 7^ When lo ! beneath the fav'ring ray, That frosty mantle melts away ; Loch Dochart, like a diamond bright, Sparkles upon our charmed sight — And opens, on our rapt survey. The distant azure gleams of Tay, Pledge of the raptures of a future day. XII. Thus did the ling'ring season seem Upon our favour'd path to beam, Yet warn'd us, in its smile, to turn Then southward by thy Head, Loch Erne — To quit the dreary braes of heath For the soft past'ral banks of Teath — XIII. But hark ! as by these banks we chose Our long protracted course to close. With pleasing awe what voice appals And still our wav'ring steps recalls ? XIV. 'Twas his — that, dci-ply echoing, gave Its welcome from the Goblin * Cave — 'Twas the Magician of thy Land, Who, Scotia, with his minstrel- hantl Thy ladies' loves, thy heroes' fights, Thy wizards' wondrous feats recites, That made our fancy fcol his pow'r — When, starting at the murky hour — When, as " the breezes hoarsely blew," Tlie sun svas darken'd to our view — \\'e cro>sM the realms, lu which belong The potent spells wove in his song ; Heneath the guidance of whose star \\'e pass'd the shores of V'ennachar, l\irsuing our romantic way Along the banks of wild Achray : — Beneath jon quick dispersing clouds. When, as the sun no longer shrouds His favVing beams — and as we trace The windings of the savage place, ♦ See •• The Lady of the Lake." THR()l'(. M THK II 1(. II l..\N nS. // Where the black Trosacks rear on high Their bare tops to the awe-struck eye, And with tlieir venerable locks The weeping birches hang the rocks — At last it opens on our view The Lake the Poet's pencil drew : We think we see before us stand His very Xaiad of the strand ! And though the fancy, all in vain, May strive to paint such charms again ; Like one so lovely and so wild, Well may the Muse seem'd to have smil'd On him, whose footsteps she has led So far, such wondrous scenes to tread ! 7H SONNETS. SONNET AT STIRLING CASTLE. Old as the liills, tow'rds which their stately crest In venerable grandeur they uprear, To fancy as your ancient tow'rs appear, Stirling! with retrospective joy imprest. Fain would our hearts to thee their thanks address, Where thou restor'st, rob'd in their azure light, To our rapt gaze each rang'd romantic height, \\ hose mem'ry e'er our golden dreams shall bless : And while no tyrant, Scotia, can erase, As here, thy glory from its rocky base. Rejoice thou, on this lofty battlement, That, on the waving Standard of thy power, Glitt'ring afar, thou seest thy hardy Flower In happy Union with the Rose and Shamrock blent ! feONNETS. 79 SONNET AT LINLITHGOW. Hence, as the rovinc^ Muse's kindling sight Fires with the fame of Bruce of Bannockburn ! Soon doth her ken thi- awful I-'ield discern, That with " the bugle of the Wallace Uight" Rang mournfully — hailing each glorious name The rival stars, that, Scotia, in their sphere, Adorn thy annals with their bright career ; — Until to its deserted site we came, To which we, pausing, paid our homage meet — Linlithgow, to thy ruin'd regal seat ! Where, Scotia, beams on thee a brighter hope. Than when thy evil-boding pow'r appear'd — Where still yon haunted sanctuary is uprear'd — Or when here shone thy hapless Mary's horoscope! 8() SONNKTS. SONNET AT EDINBURGH Edina ! throui,'h :\n tMuidus haze thy crown Of tow'rs, as on the brow of Cybclc, Approachitit^ with deep patriot-love we see : Afar, around, hence spreading thy renown, Fair Seat of Science ! where, witli heartfelt pride, \N ell may we deem, too, with her radiant crest, As of her Northern Athens here possesst, The " blue ey'd maid of he.ivcn " doth preside. O, when the morn withdrew the envious veil That shrouded all thy beauties to our view, Ne'er did we, in such varied form and hue, A combination of such glories hail As those, which from the top of Calton Hill, Edina, the rapt contemplation fill ! 81 CONCXUSIOX OF THE FIRST YEARS TOUR. And, now, farewell, Ediim ! till the spring To thy fam'd luuints shall spread each anxious wing WarnM by the summons of the waning year To fold our pinions on our blest career, Like weary birds of passage which we chose In Keswick's " sweet fantastic Vale " to close ; To muse upon the margin of its flood, Congenial to our souls' romantic mood : With Hope and Mcm'ry, with alternate sway. To charm our thoughts and cheer the wint'ry day, ITntil, again, the fav'ring genial clime Shall send us forth to wander and to rhyme. G PART THE SECOND. I. RETURN TO EDINBURGH. SONNET AT QUEENSFERRY. AT KINROSS. AT PERTH. SECOND TOUR THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. G 2 A TRAVELLEirS SKETCHES IN VERSE. THE HOME TOUR. PART THE SECOND. RETURN TO EDINBURGH. Soon as again the fav'ring genial clime Now sends us forth to wander and to rliynic, Say, first, O Muse ! how welcome is each scene Enamour'd where we rove, again the queen, O Caledonia ! of thy land to greet ! August Edina ! tow'rds tliine ancient seat How the rich sylvan banks of Esk we hail And greet the varied realms of Tiviotdale ; — 86 R KT L' R N TO E 1) I N U U R (, U. How musing nieni'r\- — where, in past'ral pride, The Ettrick and the Ciala-water glide, And where a transient turn of Tweeda gleams — Still charms ns with the murmurs of their streams ! Though often desolate and wild your way, Long o'er your rocky channels as ye stray, Fam'd classic streams ! and, o'er such dreary tracts, Though oft unheard ye shoot your cataracts, Save by the hardy swain who yonder stalks And watches, in his solitary walks, The fleecy flocks and sable herds that rove \\'ide oVr the downs, whicli gird some lonely grove Of gloomy firs. Thus as I raise again TowVds thy renowned haunts the rambling strain, To which, Edina, with such glee we stray'd Again " to shelter in thy honoured shade," Our anxious pinions there we fain would plume, And thus our flight auspiciously resume. SONNKTS. H/ SONNET AT QUEENSFERRY. Farewell, illustrious Regent of the North ! Farewell, fair Lothian, to thy rich array ! O, with such anxious hearts whene'er we stray, May such a prospect — o'er the silver Forth Yon prospect of unrivaird beauty bright, Which, in the radiance of the opening morn, Hope, to our joyous ken, doth here adorn — E'er to such charming walks our steps invite ! O Caledonia ! panting to explore Thy glorious realms, we feel, when we have past This flood majestic, that our die is cast : — "WQiere, musing, we now pause upon this shore, Not envying him, upon whose gaze it shone So fearfully — the course of Rubicon. 88 SONNKTS. SONNET AT KINROSS. Of liiin* who, witli a poet's eye and painter's hand, Has made in never-fading verse to bloom The beauties, Leven, of his native huid, Fain would my strain lament the hapless doom, As, on the softest summer-eve, we take Our walk, and, musing, there recall the hour, \\'hen, captive, in the bosom of thy Lake The beauteous Queen mourn'd in yon lonely Tow'r : Glen Devon ! while so anxious for tlie day, That, with its cheering light, arose to fill Our hearts with rapture where your realms display Their awful Rumbling Bridge and Restless Mill ; f There, where we rov'd, arrested by the din Re-echoing from the rocks of Caudron Lin. * Michael Bruce, the Author of Lochleven. t Vulgo dictum " Devil's Mill." SONNETS. 89 SONNET AT PERTH. When, scar'd, bofore the hostile standard, flew The granipian eagle through th' horizon dim, Well might the Roman " Ecce Tiberim !" Exclaim, with transport, at the rival view, With which, O Tay ! thou own'd the power to charm His fancy : — but, our humble track of fame The while no such ambitious thoughts inflame, With stronger ardour does thy lustre warm Our kindred hearts — here, where, O Perth, the pride Of this enchanting region you arise ; — Here, where though kings no longer now reside. At the prophetic words,* yet, to our eyes. The glory, which you yield the British Throne, Shines with reflected splendour on thy Scone ! ♦ Ni fallat fa turn, &c. i)tj SECOND TOrR TnROrr4H THE HIGHLANDS. I. All hail ! tl>ou rival Glory of the Land ! Upon whose summit as wc take our stand, Fain would the feeble accents of my lyre Express the raptures wiiich you now inspire ! Whence, sweet mcand'rinix Tay ! and, past'nd Erne ! Through your fair straths, enchanted, we discern Your glitt'ring streams, until, in friendly pride, By the same channel to the main ye glide : Soften 'd by distance to our rapt survey, Where ye uprear again your grand array, Welcome, O welcome, to our anxious sight. Ye Grampians ! where, to greet each tow'ring height. Such a commanding station we possess — Soon may your charms sublime our wanderings bless ! 9 SKCOND TOUR Til ROlC. II III K II IT. H LAN OS. 91 II. Thus did thy glorious view inspire, Moncrief, the Muse's kindling fire: Soon, on our parting gaze, when shone The new rais'd tow'rs of regal Scone, Between us where the nohlc Tay, Their '' floating mirror," wound his way; Whose course with joy we meet again In AthoFs heauteous rich domain At Dunkeld, with her witching reign Where fancy doth the region fill, Beneath the brow of Birnani Hill. III. Than, Dunkeld, where thy charms arise. Romantic, sylvan Paradise ! Not Vallombrosa's pomp of shade Can more profusely be array'd ; Impervious, where they seem to stand Like pillars, on thy lonely land, Norwegia, statelier groves of larch Do not thy darken'd realms o'erarch. 92 SEC O N D 1 OUR IV. First, Invcr, wIhtc to swell the pride Of Tay, is sweetly seen to glide Thy streamlet of no coimuon fume, To thee with anxious hearts we came : Romantic, sylvan Paradise ! , Here, where your awful crags arise — Here, where our winding walk began, Fain would I sing, impetuous Bran ! How, o'er thy loud resounding fall, From their aerial echoing hall Hung on the verge of yonder steep, Our charm'd ears drank the murmurs deep, Where Ossian's spirit swept his lyre With all his renovated fire : And how, through fancy's aid, we own The influence of each softer tone, With all their heav'nly languor fraught. So soothing where the strains we caught, Which might each worldly care assuage Within this mossy hermitage, THROUGH IHK HIGHLANDS. 93 With its sweet blooming garden blest By Art with taste so richly drest : ^^'hence, Nature, varying our delight, Our wand'ring footsteps doth invite To where the Kunibling Bridge displays The Bran, again, unto our gaze, Extending, through her grand domain, m Through the rent rock, his roaring reign. V. Romantic, sylvan Paradise ! Lo ! where your awful crags arise, Ascending, through its hanging grove. Long in the winding walk we rove. Until the opening point we climb To burst upon the view sublime ; Beneath us where glides forth the Tay To lead us on our charmed way, Completing our romantic path Along his richly varied strath. — Charm 'd with the view our way we took And. all along, thee, Tay o'erlook. 94 SECOND 11) UH Until, a gentler stream, you turn. Above where Tumnicl from his urn Joins with his tribute : — whence we gain Fair Aberl'eldie's past'ral plain, Our "journey, curious, to pursue " Till fam'd Breadalbane opens to our view." VI. \\'here each cnraptur'd breast returns An echo to the lyre of Burns, Kcnown'd Breadalbane! when they greet Til}- charms crownM \\itli their princely seat; And where an idly strolling Muse Would fain invoke thee to excuse Her simple numbers — by the fame Due to another poet's name. She cannot, like his verse, deride Thy " palace's contiguous " pride: For, if each laird on his domain Would be more of a rural thane, Such blessings he around uould spread To chase " the meanness of the shed." 9 riiRorr. II tiik ii u. ii l an i»s. 95 VII. Whence, to complete our rapt survey, Tav, of thy vast and varied sway, As we advance now from Kenmore, The triple trendings of thy shore VVith heiglifning rapt'rous joy we trace. Skirting, Ben Lawers, thy mighty base ; Until Strone Clachan's fav'ring height In all its glory to our sight, Above Fiidarig's broken scalp, Uplifts the loftiest Perthshire Alp;* And spreads thy precincts to our view, Killin, in varied form and hue, Where furious Dochart's foaming force And Lochy's mild attemper'd course. Through thy romantic region, wind And well can charm each roving mind : Nor can we fail, like pilgrims, there Awhile ^vith Freedom to repair, And meditate " How sleep the brave," Illustrious Fingal ! o'er thy grave ! * Ben Lawers. 9C isECONI) roi K VIII. The hust'iiiiig season — on each grace That decks this wild and beauteous place The while enraptur'd as we dwell — Calls us to bid it now farewell ; — To compass tlie romantic shore, Returning to thy realms, Kenmore — To bid adieu for the last time There, Taymouth, to thy charms sublime. IX. When, Lyon, thy terrific glen Soon kindles our most anxious ken — The Giant of Perpetual Storm Uplifts his darkest threat'ning form, Triumphant, panting, as we scale The steep beside him, but to hail Alas ! a tract more waste and wild, Where no inviting shelter smil'd — When lo ! on one sweet sunny spot The loveliest ray of splendour shot ! I THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 97 Loch TumiiK'l, 'twas thine azure gleam, Thy verdant banks — a golden dream — Which, through the misty atmosphere, A smiling Eden did appear In vain to turn us from our track. Beneath the heavy sailing rack ! X. Drawn on by some fatality. Thus oft the port of peace we fly, Through danger, doubt, and darkness, go, And brave each dire impending woe ! XI. Beneath the tempest's whelming fall Amid thy desert, Fortingal — Beneath the gath'ring shades of night Increasing our disastrous plight. O'er moor and mountain thus we stray A cheerless, toilsome, rugged way — Till, just in time, for our's to gain A smoother road, the tiny wain H 98 SECOND TOUR Of Hespcr twinkled o'er our lu'ad, And, with its friondly lustre, led Us safe, assuaging every care. Into the welcome realms of liiair. Xll. And, now, upon our iieedfid rest. The morn, in brighter splendour drcst, Her brow clear'd of those heavy show'rs, Array'd tlie sweeter scented flow'rs With brighter tints — array'd the hills, The lawns, the groves, and s^parkling rills ; \\ ith deeper tone the torrents hoarse Dash down the steeps their foaming course ; And, througli their triple regions,* wind With grandeur and with grace combin'd. XIII. Sure, of such matchless scenes possest. Thou, Athol, thou art higidy blest ! To which each wand'rer's grateful breast • Of the Tilt, Garry and Banovy. THROUGH rilK HIGHLANDS. 99 Would fain Ihcir humble tribute pay, Re-echoing in this simple lay The charming strain's prophetic tone, W Inch deeply in their hearts they own Where, Bruar, crown'd with joy and health, Have roam'd a " loving pair,* Despising worlds with all their wealth As empty idle care." XIV. Sure, of such matchless scenes possest, Thou, Athol, thou art highly blest ! Though not with the luxuriance drest Of sylvan Dunkeld — yet, how fair. How grand, how wild, thy regions, Blair ! For wand'ring huntsman, or for sage Musing in Bruar Hermitage — XV. Brisk as upsprings yon mountain- roej-f* And turns to gaze awhile below, * In Burns's " Petition to have the Bruar Falls planted." t As happened whilst we were on the spot. h2 100 SECOND lOfH Romantic Region I from yon height, O'er which he wings aw:\y his flight — Impetuous Garry ! when wc trace Thy wood-crown 'd windings, deck'd with grace And grandeur, to thy gulf profound In Killlcrankie's I\iss renown'd — ^ There, where tlie chieftain, hrave Dundee, Fell in the arms of victory — \\ here, wilii the Tummel, you embrace Tlie fairy-realms of Faskalie — Now, bounding o'er the mountain-chase, Like wild deer, through the portals of Glenshee, We range, where kindled fancy fills \\'ith such renown'd exploits thy hills, O Fingal ! till we ken afar The goodly regions of Braeraar. XVI. Lo ! where yon lonely rifted tower, Braemar, proclaim? thy ruin'd power ! Where yon black huts bestrew the green. Like wrecks, amid the grandest scene, Til noun II TIIK HIGHLANDS. 101 Ye Grampians ! of j'our Alpine chain — There Nature her stupendous reign Holds in unfading majesty, And prompts our progress through Strath Dee; While fragrant groves of birch and pine Along our path their ciiarins combine, Reaching the plain of Pannanach, To close another glorious track. 9 II. SONNET AT SLANES CASTLE. AT THE BULLERS OP BUCHAN. AT PETERHEAD. AT ELGIN. AT THE COVES OF COWSIE. AT FORRES. AT FORT GEORGE. AT INVERNESS. A RHAPSODY ON REACHING DUNCANSBY HEAD. so N N KI S. 105 SONNET AT SLANES CASTLE. The rival regions of the Don and Dec, Through sand and swamp, and over rut and rock, Enduring many a nearly fatal shock, We quit — o'crlooking such a trouhled sea. Until we reach the wish'd-for lonely shore ; — Securely the fantastic crags descry, The chafing tides that beat against Dun Buy, And, awestruck, listen their tremendous roar : With which, when most some daring hind molests, Innumerable sea-birds' clanging cries With shrill accordant wailings harmonize, Scar'd, wheeling round their vainly chosen nests — Here, where upon thy tow'r-crown'd cliff, O Slanes, In tempests such terrific grandeur reigns. KK) SONNKTS. SONNET AT THE BULLERS OF BUCHAN. Thu?, as ovir journey, anxious, wc pursue, Wliile in his track the musings* of the Sage Now well our roving fancies may engage, Buchan, thy Uulk-rs next arrest our view ! And, as we staiul upon tiieir awiul hrink, Much indispos'd to favour the delight Of some misguiding evil-minded sprite Uur steps into that fatal gulf to sink— Whose malice, quite sufficient for the day, We deem indulg'd from distant Aberdeen, Throu-h all the toils and troubles of our way— We now invoke, amid the dark'ning scene, Our better stars their friendly light to shed I'pon our favour'd path to Peterhead ! • Of Dr. Johnson : see his Journey to the Hebrides. so N N K IS. 107 SONNET AT PETERHEAD. O thus to see return with concjucst crowuM, Ambitious, like their sires of ohl, to brave Its perils in the dragons of the wave, In his harpoon each hero so renown'd ! O thus to hear re-echoed from the shore The mutual greeting of eacli joyous friend, With sympathetic force the shout must rend Each bosom to the heart's delighted core ! — Each kindled fancy, as it sees you weigh Your anchor and unfurl your ventVous sail, And through the Frozen Sea pursue the whale- Each fellow-creature for your weal must pray. Ye hardy spirits ! when your course you steer. E'er to crown with success your bold career. 1U8 so N N KTS. SONNE T AT ELGIN. AnotluT of the ravages of Time ! , Another Ruin meets his musing eye, Of which the most stupendous fragments lie Recorded in the traveler's various rhyme : Where, mingled with tlie monuments of yore. Of knights and prelates batter'd and o'erthrown, Lo ! Duncan,* to thy grey sej)ulchral stone Thv awful kingly shade points in its gore. Yet Elgin, fails not, at this witciiing hour. The influence of thy beauteous ruin'd quire Within its sacred precincts to inspire In thy rapt pilgrims, by each time-struck tow'r, The hope — as fades its phantom into air — To triumph o'er extinction and despair ! ♦ " Boetius says, that Duncan, who was killed at Inverness by Macbeth, lies buried h«re." — Pennant's Tour. SONNETS. 109 SONNET AT THE COVES OF COWSIE. Cowsie ! along thy wild and wiiuliiig siiorc, Romantic, as, with curious ken, wc rove, And, led by Fancy, each fantastic cove DeckM with rich shells and hanging weed explore, Lo ! to our vision, issuing from the deep, All, in these grottos, sparkling in the light Of Cynthia, in the haunted noon of night, The sea-gods, with their nymphs, their revels keep And — as she further weaves the potent spell — By Fancy led to the mysterious cell Of Prospero, we feel the raptures there, Which, at the waving of her Master's wand. Could throng with spirits the enchanted strand, And fill with magic minstrelsy the air. 1 M) SONNET?.. S O N X E r AT FORRES. Hence, while no sceptre waves us on, we hear, That sovereign master's influence heneath, Tlie Weird Sisters on the bhisted heath Greet with far sweeter sounds our charmed ear, Than those which wrappM in fearful doubt their doom, And to the horrible and cruel death Of IkiiKjuo prompted, hailing great Macbeth : — And, as no sceptre waves us on, no tomb, Or obelisk, like thy fam'd monument. Here, Sueno ! wishing to our name to raise — Here, where our unambitious course we bent : ^^'hence, may we, with such joyous varied days, Still journey, nor dejected, nor forlorn. To reach in peace each traveller's awful bourn ! • SON NK TS. Ill SONNET AT FORT GEORGE. Within, around this foss, though fiercest war Has loni; desisted from his barharous sport, And with his (huiuk'r ceas'd to shake this fort, What fray swells on mine ear with horrid jar? Whence viewing where the massacre began, Culloden ! on thy moor (disastrous sight !) There brothers against brothers meet in fight, And gallant kinsmen battle with their elan ! Culloden ! as the dying murmurs cease, Now as the death-fraught vision sinks again Upon the desolate and silent plain, Soft breaks upon my view the smile of Peace ! The spreading lustre of that angel smile Upon the Sister Kingdoms of the Isle. 112 SONNETS. SONNET AT INVERNESS. ^ With grateful joy we greet thee, Inverness, Seated so fair amid thy varied scene, And in thy mutual welcome, northern queen. Would hail the pledge our sanguine hopes to bless ! How happy those who here have fix'd their home, \Vhere mountains, friths and valleys charm the eye In all their splendour, grace and majesty — Content throufjh their romantic realms to roam ! — Though loath to quit these varied regions fair. The stations whence such prospects you command, We, who so far have wander'd through your Land (Which, without vaunting, we may now declare), Feel, Scotia ! we should ill our Tour complete, Did we not start thy Thule too to greet. 113 A RHAPSODY ON REACHING DUNCANSBY HEAD. I. Here, Scotia ! seated on thy northmost shore, With exultation we may here retrace. Through each variety of clime and place, The length of way that we have travell'd o'er ! Where now, Duncansby, with such joy we greet The waves re-echoing at thy rocky feet ; Which here the spirit of the restless deep, That seems enthronM on this romantic steep. E'er joys to hear with hoarse resounding cadence beat. I Ill A U IT \ p s o r» Y II. Lo ! here in view wIutc the wild Orcades So bleak and ban* u[)lift their misty hills, \\'hich with a thousand phantoms fancy fills ; And, in the currents of their roaring seas, Seem girt with countless whirl[)ooli^ to exclude Each curious footstep daring to intrude, Secluded Isles ! upon your sacred haunts — Lo 1 with such visions where your aspect daunts, Duncansby, to thy point our course have we pursued ! III. Tor waking dreams and spectral sights the while " Plac'd far amid tlic melancholy main " (To answer well unto the poet's strain And rival every haunted " Hebrid Isle,") What a commanding station you uprear ! On which the highest gifted wizard- seer The most inspiring favour'd seat may find, And shape, according to his musing mind. What forms he pleases in the misty atmosphere. ON REACHING D T N C A N S H Y UKAD. llo IV. Here, where no calms prevail, but, ceaseless, raves Tlie main along the vainly tow'ring strand, The feeble crumbling rampart of the land; And where, amid thf wild encroacliing waves, The cliff, displaying many a sea-beat rift, A ruin'd tow'r * or steeple seems to lift : Afar whence steering where we, anxious, hail Doublini; this headland many a well-trimmed sail. Resistless, on the rushing Pentland current drift. V. Hark ! to the flowing of the straitcn'd tide Beneath the distant Thule, where we gain'd The point to M'hich our farthest efforts strain 'd ! On which, to wake our highest note of pride (Where, now, in dim line, stretches far away The coast, we travers'd, to our rapt survey), The prospect our imagination warms, Like him, who, xVlbin, panted for thy charms — Well, with that sweetest hapless poet may we say : f * Such a resemblance \was offered to my view on this coast. I With Collins, in his Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scotland. i2 IK) A II n A PSO I) Y vr. *' All hail ! ye scenes th:it o'er our souls prevail ! Yc spleiul'ul friths and lakes ! by fancy led," Whose glens, whose heaths, whose mountains we retread- (Fur hiippicr than that hard !) " at distance hail T "\\'ith those, in glorious vision, to our sight 'I'hat open a still further prospect bright I But, here the glories of her travelled way \\'ith exultation would the Muse portray, Who, awestruck, startles at yon dread surmounted height : VIJ. ^^'here, Caithness, now again her footsteps clindj Thine Ord, along a bolder length of coast Than aught your tow'ring far-faiu'd realms can boast. Grand I'ndercliJflT ! and, Penmanmaur sublime ! Securely where, beneath that dreaded steep (Afar whence every well-steer'd bark is seen to keep Its cautious course), gorg'd with their finny prey, Black rav'nous cormorants, the livelong day, And seals, and every sea-fowl sport upon the deep. ON REACHING D L N C A N S B Y HEAD. 117 VIII. When, from so barren and so brown a scene, We sink unto a Icwl with tiiat deep. Betwixt each tou'ring and romantic steep, Iiito the bosom of a glen so green As that, which, with such wond'ring eyes, we hail And (juit so soon in thine, U Berridalc ! Alas ! the wliilc unconscious of our fate — Of all the toils and troubles that await, This eve, upon our progress, when thy heights we scale ! IX. To stray, benighted, on the dreary heath. Through sand and swamp, and over rut and rock. Enduring many a nearly fatal shock ! Rueing the luckless hour we left Dunbeath And Clyth, how for the shelter then we sigh Beneath their roofs of rushes they supply ! And when, at length, the wish'd-for lights we mark. Much did we fear that wily Jack, i'th' dark. Did hold his twinkling lantern to our cheated eye ! 118 A KHAPSODY X. O'er which (O joy !) our better stars prevail And when the kindliiiij beams of morn renew The oft-repeated pleasures we pursue, With curious sympathizing eyes we hail, To give such life unto the lonely hwid, The preparation * there along the strand For the cold niglit of toil, with nuiny a boat In every inlet, creek and cove afloat ! How anxious every heart and busy every hand ! XT. Like oases, where, midst a vast morass. Patches of verdure and some blades of corn Remote bleak Caithness ! thy waste realms adorn, From lonely Wick, yet, onward, as we pass To lonelier Castleton, methinks, we hear The Muse thus chide our wand'ring wild career : " Say, why to the Siberia of your Isle, My vot'ries, do ye thus yourselves exile?"" To Houna till her lighter bounding step draws near. * At Wick. ON R E A C H I N n DINCANSHY UK AD. Ill) XII. Where such a triumph sparkles in her eyes ! Such pleasure kindles in each ardent soul ! Gazing, at length, upon the wish'd-for goal. On this hold promontory while she cries : — " Here, where, thou, Genius, who so far hast led, Prolong thy influence on each favour'd head ! (The while, with grateful hreasts, the charms we own Witli wiiieh our varied pathway ihou hast strown) That hy some friendly hearts our raptures may he read." III. THIRD TOUR THROUGH THE HIGHLAND^, INCLUDING A VOYAGE TO lONA AND STAFFA. 123 THIRD TOUR THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. I. Romantic Realms ! yet vanish not awaj', But Milh your solemn grandeur still delight O let us still prolong our charmed stay Amid the scenes congenial to our sight ! Yes, now propitious to our pray'r, Methinks, O Genii ! ye prepare, Now for your ardent vot'ries to explore, Another pathway that shall raise Their highest rapture and amaze, In tracinij the unbroken chain Of stream and lake, from main to main, Through the majestic region of Glen more ! II. Fain would my verse portray the pride Which, Ness, at first adorns thy side ; 124 ririUD TO in And, when we (juit thy cultur'd striitli, Depict tlic wild ascending patli, \\ here, hiijh above tliy openinj; hike, Our awful straiten'd course we take : 1 hat hdh and spiry pine, \\ ith their contrasted charms, to climb, Grove above grove, the steep sublime. III. How grateful did our bosoms feel For all thy mountain-depths reveal ; How grateful for the road, Glen more. By which thy charms we could explore ! Til HI) I (.11 TIIK H 1 (. li LAN IIS. TJ.') IV. When lo ! from voiuler echoinjif dell \\ hat cavern'd thuiuler seems to swell? \\ hich, bursting from its gulf profound Re-bellows with ICtnean sound : As, in the gulf profound, wc stood, Ga/ing upon the roaring flood, \\ here, bath'd in its per[)etual dew, 'I'lie herbage fres)hl\- springs to view, We felt, on that enchanting spot, All fear in pleasing awe forgot ! Long as, enchanting spot ! I ween, The utmost influence of the scene (The Naiad's craggy fairy land, All planted by wild nature's hand) The most auspicious hour inspires Round thv romantic Fall, O Fvres ! V. \\ hence, with our 'custom'd hearts we scale Steep after steep, until we hail 12() T 11 I R n TOTU From thy comiiiaiuling height, (JltMulo, The fort, in miniature, belo\v — Thy fort, Augustus, that supplies So grand a vista to our eyes : — Ere our Mild journey we resume O'crhung with deeper mountain gloom. Save where. Loch Oich, our charmed eyes greet Thy realms, from contrast, smile more sweet. VI. ^^ lien, unpropitious to our pray'r, \\ hy, Genii ! did yo not prepare Another pathway, that might raise Our highest rapture and amaze Upon the loftiest British height ? Undaunted, 'gainst your deep despite, Through beating rain and pelting hail, Triumphant, where our steps could scale, Enduring there the wild winds bleak On the sharp rocks which strew that peak. 9 TH ROT Gil THE HIGHLANDS. \2J VII. Yet, from the loftiest British height, Which ye kept clos'd in mistj^ niglitj Dropping hcneath the cloudy veil, Prophetic, could our eyes still hail. Relenting Genii ! through your aid. The prospect to their ken display 'd — The various splendid Lochs we trac'd, Nature ! by thee so highly grac'd. VIII. Proceeding, there, by Achintore, Now, first. Loch Eil, along thy shore Our destinM course we view : And, with such mingled joy and awe. That scene of savage grandeur saw, Immur'd in dark Glencoe. IX. Hence, how delighted, we explore The beauties of thy opening shore, Linnhe-Loch ! and, passing by Lismore, I'2S I II I K I) I () I II lU'iieiitli our waiurriug star, Jii'voml wliere now its iiifliuMice tjuidcs, Across Loch Crcraii's chafing tides, And '* \\ hi II- DiiiistafTiiage hears the raging Of ConiKil witli his rocks engaging," Wv hail thy^oiiiid afar, « Dark Mull! (h)\vn which its rapiil way From Ohan unto Aros' Bay, Our well-triinin'd hark duth keep — U'hilc heaves (the truth the Muse dotli tell) 'I'hat Sound witli its much dreaded swell — \\ hat anxious throhhings then we feci, As L Iva, now, by Loch Xakcal, We gain i'th' Western Deep I X. A VOYAGF, TO U)NA AND STAl 1 A. At riva (wlicnce the kindling vision came That wrapp'd our bosoms in prophetic flame) Arose the golden morn, when not a breeze Play'd o'er the glassy surface of the seas — THROUr.H THE II I f H f. A N D s. 129 Deceitful calm ! a squall soon broke the rest Upon old ocean's frecjucnt heaving breast, Threat'ning to whelm beneath the raging tide, But for the skilful pilot that did guide And o'er tlie wild naves made our skiff in triumph ride. XI. Lulling the storm that batllcd our career, And, witli it, e\cry vainl\- rising fear, Attendant, thence, the veering zephyr blew And, with us, in a magic circle flew, \Vafting our bark until it near'd the Isle, \^ here rose the ruins of each sacred pile; Where, in their hallow'd graves, great monarchs sleep Defended from the fury of the deep. The Sister Islands whilst a general doom Awaits to lay beneath a wat'ry tomb. XII. Such were the holy legends that inspir'd Our bosoms and congenial fancies fir'd, K 130 T I! I R D TOU R What time along the strand we took our way And nuis'd upon tlic sacrid ruins gray : Lost in these dreams, not long our course we held- The truth their airy fabric soon dispell'd ! And made our hearts witli higher joy expand — To meditate, O Scotia ! o\'r thy Land How, \\ ith its blessed influence, from tiiis Isle The dawn of Gospel Light dilTus'd its smile. XIII. Hence, full of hope, embarking to pursue Our voyage, hence our little jovial crew Alternate ply the oar and set the sail, As gentle breezes and as calms prevail, With many a merry Gaelic roundelay Beguiling tiie light labours of their way : — So smoothly o'er the placid element Our sea-boat, like a river-wherry, went — So faintly by the water-fowl was heard The ripple which its gentle motion stirr'd. That, long retreating, they were seen to glide (Long ere they dived) upon the tranquil tide. THROUGH THK HIGHLANDS. 131 XIV. When lo ! we near'd, upon its lonely pile. Where sat the Genius of another Isle : Who still'd the surf that swells upon his shore That we might all its wondrous charms explore ; And with its magic fetters bound the wave That we might enter mighty Fingal's Cave— XV. A\nience, thus, methought, the Voice of Cona spoke, The first* among a thousand bards ! that voice. That like a blast remains after the winds Are laid, methought, we heard roar lonely on A sea-surrounded rock : — O welcome now 1 Ye, who, M'ith joy, on the blue-rolling wave. From misty Morven steer'd your pleasant course To dark Ithona — to the Lonely Isle : Where, now, the Ghost of Ossian, as when, erst. Amid the Hall of Selma, joys to hear The harp of fair Malvina ! who now joins * See the conclusion of the Songs of Selma. k2 l;VJ Til I R 1) TO I K With him to give ye greeting to our haunts, Ambitious pair I XVI. Here ceasetl the voice — where now We heard but the hoarse breaking of the wave Within the vast resounding ocean-cave ; And, as, in admiration and amaze, On its sttipendous pile we fix our gaze — The mighty eohunns, that support the Fane, By Nature rear'd against the stormy main — We see, thus, to the workl, her work impart Her triumph o'er the monuments of Art. XVII. From these piUisters, where such cahn profound She finds amid the wat'ry waste around (E'en, when they tremble, as the boist'rous breeze Against them lifts the heavy-surging seas), W^e scar'd a pigeon * — whence she seems to keep Her vigils o'er the spirit of the deep — • What is related in this section is no Rction. 9 THROUGH THE HMiHLANDS. 133 Here, where no fulcons can disturb her rest, Tlie bird of peace broods in her halcjon nest. Vet, social comfort, once, refus'd not here Some outcast isohited souls to cheer Amid the wat'ry waste : with brighter ray On mIiIcIi, indeed, the sun was seen to play — A charm to those lone sojourners impart iJut little kuouii to the \ain worldling's heart — Marking how mutual-blessing ignorance The joys of each condition doth enhance ; How custom to each station reconciles, And, round their child, the main, or desert, smiles. XVIII. Hence, back to Ulva, with the setting sun, Its prosp'rous voyage wiicn our keel had run, Next morning, full, before the fav'ring breeze. With outspread wings it cut the foaming seas Adown the Sound of Mull : again in sight Each object came that fill'd us with delight ; That made our hearts with fervent joy to swell. And, grateful, bid the Western Isles farewe/i / 134 r II r ri I) TO t' R XIX. Whence, ne'er witli such a deep-felt force We own'd the influence of thy pow'r. In all our long enraptur'd course As, Scotia ! at this partiiii; hour : When by Ix)ch 12tive and Loch Awe, \\'hich nature hath so highly grac'd, The scenes of former joys we saw. Our track of other times retrac'd : — XX. To where, in nsionarj- splendour shone Our star, Ikni Lomond ! o'er thy lofty throne; Auspicious that uiivcil'd thy tow'ring head Of all the envious clouds around it spread : The last, to gaze upon its charms sublime, The highest favour'd station that we climb — The station, whence, thou giant of the land ! Thy ken the rising Grampians doth command — " Vales, lakes, woods, mountains, islands, rocks and sea/ Spread out in all their rich variety : THKOUGll rilK II K. II LANDS. 135 Till, sated, thence our steps their path retrace To Rowartleniian, to the mountain's base. Our joyous course upon his deep to run Beneath another most auspicious sun. XXI. A TRIP ON LOCH LOMOND. W hat time tlie bright efTulgence of the morn Shines lorth this rival voyage to adorn, When not a l)reeze, this brilliant day, did wake, Kullliiii' the mirror of the lovely lake, \^'e steer first to the islet * nhich \ve view Still darken'd with the tough elastic yew. Dear to the warriors in the days of yore, Their weapons whence the strong-arm\l bowmen bore: Thence, on Inch Cailliach's consecrated ground, From its commanding hill we gaze around ; And linger on its charming site to trace An amphitheatre of matchless grace. Then, opposite, where spreads the valley's pride. Through which the waters of the Endrick glide, * Inch Lonaig. 13G THIRD TOUR THROUGH THE H I C. H L A N D S. We next approach the sylvan-ish\nd queen * Of this enchanting fairy-ocean scene. XXII. When we had left the islet's f rifted tower, Where now the osprey sought her ivy- bower, Its prospect when so calm an eve displays, We mount Inch Tavanach, a farewell gaze — The last, now, for awhile, indeed, to take Of tow'ring mountain and bright spreading lake, \\ hose dinun'd and dark'ning mirror well portrayd (U'here all th' inverted landscape 'gan to fade) An emblem, to their wand'rcrs' mournful sight, Of all their beauties sinking in deep night ! In undistinguishable shape appear'd The giant stature that Ben Lomond rear'd — When lo ! the Moon, that o'er these regions threw Her radiance, charm'd (as now) our musing view ; And lit the scenery, in its depth of shade, A\'itli magic lustre that can never fade ! * Inch Marrin. f In^'^ Galbiaith. 9 IV. SONNET ON PASSING THROUGH TWEEDDALE. AT MELROSE. AT KELSO. AT BERWICK. AT BA.MUOROUGH CASTLE. AT ALNWICK CASTLE. AT WARKWORTH, AT NEWCASTLE. CONCLUSION AT YORK. SONNETS. 139 SONNET ON PASSING THROUGH TWEEDDALE. As, Tweecklalc, here again tliy charms we trace, Where spread around her Southern Highland throne The reign of Nature with rapt hearts we own Array 'd in all her simple past'ral grace ; As to its end our journey speeds apace, Yet not so vain now of that journey grown. Of its success, that, in a vaunting tone, The Muse would speak her raptures in such phrase. As, from a voyage of discovery. Exulting, to her port, with fame and glee. Returning from the regions of the Pole : Yet, quite contented, if her verse can tell What venial triumph may our bosoms swell. Far less ambitious where we hail our goal. 140 SONNKTS. SOXXET AT MELROSE. ■* Melrose ! wrapt in the hoary moss of time, Erewhile, that, never failing to arrest, Thy ruin'd sacred pile could sway each breast. E'er, since the niii;hty minstrel sung his rhyme. Re-echoing, from within, the fancied chime, Say what an influence has that pile possest ! How deeply on each trav'ller's mind imprest In " the pale moonlight !"" Whence he loves to climb, A\'ith all the mighty minstrel's spirit fraught, Feeliiiij the maijic verse that cleft in three, The wonders which the potent wizard wrought — And, Eildon, from thy neighb'ring Flills, to see Their charming prospect, to thy borders brought, To bid adieu, fair Caledon ! to thee. SONNETS. 141 SONNET AT KELSO. Contrasted with the trouhlous days of yore, Rejoice thou, Kelso, in thy happier lot, Than when, so dire, on many a blood-stained spot, The Bord'rers, as they wasted either shore, The Tweed and Tiviot the commingling gore, Shed in some deadly feud or foray hot 'Twixt furious Englishman and raging Scot, So deeply purpled to their junction bore. Or from the Chalkheugh,* or the Pinnacle — Whence as he kens, exulting at the sight, The river's forks, each cultur'd plain and height — Thus each enthusiast may his raptures tell : — Rejoice thou, Kelso, and thy age behold Converted now from iron into orold ! ♦ From Pennant's Description of Kelso. 142 SONNKTS. SONNET AT BERWICK. To bid adieu, fair Calcdon ! to thee, To sound the last notes of her rambling strain, Here, where the wand'ring Muse can ill refrain, Lo ! all the mountains, like a vision, flee ! ^^'here strove, so long, in envious rivalry, The neighboring Kingdoms with much toil and pain Until, united in Affection's chain, That power wrested from their hands the key, The cause of dire contention to each realm ! Each other, when, like torrents, to o'erwhelm, It op'd the floodgates to their fury dread ! That key O may the Kingdoms never need ! Now plung'd (I trust) into the depths of Tweed, There, buried there, for ever, in its bed ! SONNETS. 143 SONNET AT BAMBOROUGH CASTLE. " Ye holy tow'rs ! that shade the wave-worn steep, ^^'here Charity hatli fix'd her chosen scat" (Well may each visitor these lines* repeat), Long may ye, for such sacred purpose, keep Your lofty station and o'erlook the deep ! " With hollow bodings when the wild winds beat Around your walls," may lab'ring vessels greet Your succour from " the winter whirlwind's sweep!" May shipwrecked mariners upon your coast Hail " Pity, at the dark and stormy hour, Keeping her watch upon the topmost tow'r !" And, in the high antiquity ye boast, Long may your walls withstand the tempesfs shock. So proud a monument upon your rock ! * Bowles's Sonnet to Bamborough Castle, Ill SONNETS. SONNET AT ALNWICK CASTLE. ' Tlioii — who, o'er yonder tow'rs, for many an age, As far as ever from its wane dost wave The splendid Crescent banner of the brave — Genius of Ahiwick ! raise thy chieftains' rane E'er with the forciti^n foe their wars to wae^c ! \\ hat all, who thiid< on Chevy Chace, tluit gave A Percy and a Douglas to the grave — Each patriot must invoke : — " O e'er assuage Such feelings in our I^ile of strife and hate. The while it thrives in plenty, joy iuul peace ! Grant, Genius ! ^ ever that such foul debate Betwixt the nobles of the Land may cease !* That, govern'd by the most propitious fate. Its honours with its happiness increase !" SONN ETS. 14 SON'XET AT WARKWORTH. Warkworth ! when lawless might went forth array 'tl And with such sutUloii onset might assail — When, Justice, oft thy cries were heard to fail, Not vainly can we deem thy Castle made, Oi' which so proud a remnant stands display'd. Warkworth ! nor then less grateful could we hail (As to thy Solitaiy's Cave we stray'd) Our age, when more enlighten'd times prevail ; ^\'hich prompts us on our transient troubled stage. E'er to support our parts unto the grave — Nor, vainly, seek out some lone hermitage A refuge from life's common ills to crave — But, to proceed, upon our pilgrimage. Undaunted, all its storms and griefs to brave ! L 140 SONNKTS SONNET AT NEWCASTLE. The phrenzicd passion that could firo tlie breast To hiy in ashes the transcendent Fane Of Ephesus 1 nor what the fever'd brain 0( that insatiate Monarch might suggest, Who gain'd such conquests, yet, who, reft of rest, Could weep for space his empire to contain ! Nor, he, on waxen wings, who strove to gain The heavens, soaring on such vent'rous quest — Our fancies with such paragons impress 'd, l\inting to emulate their wishes vain And with their feats to crown the vaunting strain ! Of no mean triumph yet we feel possest, Who sing, amid the coaly realms of Tyne, Our memorable plunge into a mine ! 147 (JOXCLUSION OF tht: Tr o:\rK toth ARRIVAL AT YORK. From Durham as we hold our destin'd way To close the toils of many an anxious day — To crown the raptures, say, my wand'ring Muse ! Say what a store of scenes hast thou to choose :-— Where Raby rears its venerable towers, Or in the shade of Rokeby's classic bowers ; At Studley, where attracted by the fame Of all its various beauties as we came Its spacious gardens, all so richly drest, In Ruin of so proud a Pile* possest — * Fountain's Abbej-. l2 148 CONCLISION OF THE IIOMK TOUR. That Pile as scarce a ruin can I deem For closing there my ^\■i(Iely wand'rinc^ theme, At nightfall as we trod its sacred (inirc Beneath its roof " fretted with golden fire " — ■ Its pillar'd aisles (a grove of stately trees), To waft, as rustling to the rising breeze, The chant of distant spirits on our ear, To fill our bosoms with religious fear. Or, onward, as wc hold our destin'd way, At morn, by Richmond, through the realms so gay, To where, at last, York's matchless Minster spreads Its tow'ring arches o'er our awestruck heads : There, joining in the anthem, we may raise Our voice in gratitude and holy praise ; There, at that Shrine, its pleasures may engage Our memory to conclude our pilgrimage ! NOTES. N () T E 8. Note 1. Sedgemore, for willows dank so vast a bed ! Wliat ken, surveying hence thy marshy plain, Can doubt it rescued from the tyrant main ? — p. 9. " There arc the strongest proofs that the sea was once in full possession of these moors. It was in them the Cangi took refuge from the Romans ; and in those parts the Britons made their last efforts against the Saxons. To these places of refuge the Saxons, in their turn, also fled, when the fury of the Danes had converted the greatest part of the kingdom into a desert. At the conflux of the Thone and the Parret stands the island of Athelney, famous in history for being the spot where Alfred found an asylum from those barbarians, which place was then inaccessible, by standing pools and inundations." — Shaw's Tour to the West of England. Note II. Where blooms the Holy Thorn. — p. 10. " Here, too, stands the trunk of the famous hawthorn, which, in more superstitious times, was believed to blow at 1.V2 NOTES. Chrifctmas, The fact is, it flowers twice a year, and is of a variety not common in tliis country." — Jbid. Note III. O could the daring genius, that has plann'd To wrest from ocean such a tract of land, Which, wond'ring, at Tre-Madoc we survey'd. Feel his Herculean labour well repaid! — p. 30. " The wonders of Wales have ever been limited to the number of seven, but certainly it cannot be considered as an encroachment if we say eight, when we view Trc Madoc. A whole town upon an uniform and elegant plan, a market- square, a market-hall and theatre, noble inn, a chapel, mag- niricent church, over the foundation of all which structures the tide ebbed and flowed within these last ten years. — An extensive embankment across the Traeth, of near a mile, rescuing from the sea upwards of four thousand acres of tine meadow land, uniting the two counties of Caernarvon- shire and Merionethshire ; and all these by the astonishing eflbrts, ingenuity, and patriotism, of an individual, (William Alexander Maddocks, Esq., M. P.) who, from his beautiful residence, Tan-y-Ralt, views the work of his own hands with that pleasure and delight enlightened genius only en- joys." — Pedestrian Tour through North Wales. Note IV. Preparing now to cross yon tract of sand. — p. 43. On passing over Lancaster sands I may be allowed to present the following extract from Wordsworth's " De- NOTES. 153 scription of the Scenery of the Lakes," as I conceive it must he in unison with the feelings of every traveller who delights in these walks : — " The stranger, from the moment he sets foot on those Sands, seems to leave the turmoil and traffic of the world hchind him, and, crossing the majestic plain whence the sea has retired, he beholds, rising appa- rently from its base, the cluster of mountains among which he is going to wander, and towards whose recesses, by the Vale of Couiston, he is gradually and peacefully led." Note V. With many a lovclv land and sun-girt isle Upon the waters of the estuary. — p. 43. " But if the sun shine forcibly, he (the traveller) will perhaps be most entertained with observing the little gay isles and promontories of land, that seem to hover in the air or swim in a luminous vapour, that rises from the sand, and fluctuates beautifully on its surface." — Note in West's Guide to the Lakes. Note VI. each with his intersecting base The loftiest English Alps are seen to swell. — p. 59. " Wast Water has in its composition more of the sub- lime than the rest of the English Lakes ; the mountains are not only higher than the other mountains of the country, but, swelling ^proudly above their intersecting bases, each has a distinct and characteristic appearance." — Green s Guide. 154 NOTESJ. Note \'1I. O may no noontide sky serene, &c. — p. .')9. " Wast Water is not fine when enlightened by a meridian sun from a cloudless sky, for then the mountains on the north and west are uniformly illuminated ; nor is it better at three, for then the sun's rays dart down the middle of the vale. In cloudless weather, the evening or the morn- ing will be better than the mid-day or afternoon ; but cloudy weather, with occasional gleams of the sun, will exhibit Wast Water to great advantage — mists and clouds travelling the surface of the rocks, sometimes displaying their huge forms as if hung in vapour, alternately light and of the deepest air-tints, will not fail of giving great plea- sure to all who are capable of being moved by the wonders of God in the works of his creation." — Tiic same in " A Description of Sixly Studies from Nature." Note VIII. Than when thy evil-boding power appear'd Where still yon haunted sanctuary is uprear'd, Or when here shone thy hapless Mar}-'s horoscope. — p. TO. " Here (at Linlithgow) was born on the 8th of December, 1542, the unfortunate Queen Mary. Her father, James V., then dying at Falkland of a broken heart for his misfor- tunes at Solway Moss, foretold the miseries that hung over her and Scotland. ' It came,' said he, ' with a lass, and will be lost with one.* Here, too, is shown the aisle where James IV. saw the apparition that warned him of the im- NOTES. 155 pending fate of the battle of Floddcn." — Note iu " The Traveller's Guide through Scotland." Note IX. Where, bathed in its perpetual dew. The herbage freshly springs to view. — p. 125. The following observations relate to the Fall of Fyres : — "We arrived at one of the most singular and romantic scenes the imagination can conceive- At the foot of the rock over which the river falls, is a small circular bottom, on which rises, as it were, a little verdant hillock of a triangular form, which one might imagine an altar erected to the impetuous Naiad of this overwhelming stream : this rustic shrine and the verdant sanctuary in which it stands are adorned by the hand of nature with a rich profusion of beautiful flowers and luxuriant herbage. No wonder, over- hung as it is with gloomy woods and abrupt precipices, no rude blast visits this sacred solitude ; while perpetual mists, from the cataract that thunders above it, keep it for ever fresh with dewy moisture." — Letters from the Mountains. Note X. Threat'ning to whelm beneath the raging tide, But for the skilful pilot that did guide And o'er the wild waves made our skifli" in triumph ride. p. 129. In this voyage we were overtaken by one of " the sud- i56 NOTJiS. den flaws " * or " gusts of wind which issue without a mo- ment's warning from the mountain glens," and during the continuance of the squall it was enough to excite our alarm, considering the precarious mode in which we were cm- barked — in a small, narrow, open boat — and when we further saw the effects of the critical period depicted in the countenances of our crew, who all resigned the oars, whilst one (who, they informed us, for our consolation, was an expert sailor) took the helm and held the sail loosely, to be prepared to let it yield to the pressure of the gale. Note XI. At nightfall as we trod its sacred quire Beneath its roof " fretted with golden fire." — p. H8. This allusion (which was suggested by the subjoined de- scription) to the stars, seen through this roofless pile, the author hopes will not be considered as too far-fetched : — " The walls were standing, but the roofs gone, while the sun and the shower have nursed up a sublime grove in that once sacred place. Indeed, in various apartments, tall trees, twined round with ivy, beautify the finest ruins I ever entered .... The body of the abbey, between the fine-arched east and west windows, is one hundred and seventeen yards long and twenty-one yards wide. What a room, when its roof was entire ! and now how sublime ■would be the splendours of moonlight through these arches!" — inikinsons Tours to the British Mountains. * See the note in the " Lord of the Isles " on the Sound of Mull. NOTKS, 1;)/ Note XII. There, at that Shrine, its pleasures may cnjjage Our memory to conclude our pilgrimage. — p. 148. To the reader, who has accompanied him to the clo^c of his pilgrimage, the writer of these sketches trusts that he made not the appeal in vain at the commencement of his volume, and that indulgence, at least, will be granted to the melancholy pleasure which it has afforded him in cherishing, in this memorial, the recollection of the bygone joys, with his dear departed fellow-traveller, of his tour. VISIONS IN VKKS M, II.LGSTRATIVB OF THE ENGLISH LAKES AND THEIR ADJACENT REGIONS. CONTENTS. Page The Templar IGl The Hermit of the Isle 213 The Fanatic Reclaimed . . . . .247 The Abbot and the Knight . . . . 275 The Briton, the Saxon, and the Dane . . 299 Theodore and Dorothea . . . . . 321 Kenulf and Clare ...... 343 The Fairy Fete 3G1 A Vision of the Valley of the Lakes . . .421 THE TEMPLAK, A VISION HA WES WATER AND SHAP ABBEY. M PERSONS OF Till:: VISION Sir Ardulph D'Abrinois, the Templar. Sir Ivo de Taillebois. Walter Holme, of Mardalc. Laderine Tine 1 , . lehnej Daujrhters. Emm^ "' ' Eldred, Page to Sir Ardulph. Hugo, a Wizard. Helwise, a Witch, Ghosts of Sir Hubert and the Lady Idonea. The action of the poem is supposed to take place in the reign of Edward II. P R E M. Enough of lllsmere and the beauteous Vale Of Emont, Fancy, have the Regions rung, Enough of Ullsmere, as the poet * sung Enough of Grongar and each shady Dale " Of winding Towy :" — Eusemere, from thy Hill, To Truth propitious nor devoid of skill, Thee, Fancy, I would fain invoke again, Thee with thy sway to animate my Strain, With waving wand such wonders who canst work at will. ♦ Dyer. m2 164 PROEM. Hence have I woven, with whatever skill, Good Critic, to your judgment may appear (And in that judgment be not too »evere). Thy fictions, Fancy, from my charming liill — Hence, to eluciilate my various themes, That something like a Moral thrchigh them gleams — And of the various Scenes I'd fain portray, Not wliolly profitless in each Essay, I hope to hive iiidulged in my Poetic Dreams. Yet, whither next my vcnt'rous course I'd steer, ^^'here I would own again the potent spell, Fain would I for awhile, enraptured, dwell Beneath me where the charming Realms appear — The Lake, the iNIountains, to my ken extend, I have so loved to traverse and ascend — That, Fancy, yet my efforts may inspire To serve thine altar with some hallowed fire — Their aid propitious further to my Task to lend. PROEM. 165 Tliorc, where the windiiiir of the Lake and Stream (Tlie first, that spreads forth to my view displayed \\"\i\\ all its siiores — so beauteouslj' embayed), At parting, for awhile may prompt my theme — \Vith all " the clilVs and promontories there " — \\ ith thee, Ilelvellyn, w ith a Monareh's air Towering above thy I'eers — still to thy throne Its deep-felt homage from my heart to own, There where thy mountain-erow u majestic thou dost wear : — There, where the second with its silver gleam Beside the wooded Mount, to where Dalemain, Its Queen, amid the Valley holds her reign, Recalls the raptures of my cherish'd theme — Recalls thy tuneful flow till, lost, you glide Afar, fair Emont, with your murm'ring tide — To where thy Ridge of British Apennines, Methinks, Cross Fell, in mimic glory shines, Arrayed to fancy in its rival azure pride. 166 I'HOEM. When, haply, the- not inimspicious hours JMay prompt one, so enamoured of his Home, In thohe enchaiitini^ neii^hb'rini^ Keahns to roam, "WliciT, onwaid, Loulhcr, willi thy stately Tower:*, Thy (Jrnvo<, thy Ciladcs, thy 'I'dTacc ho would ij^rcct, And, there the i^lorious Prospect to complete, There as it opens on his charmM survey, Tiie \'alley* as it stretches far away, Nature, to reach thy Shrine, at length, w ith pi!t,frim feet :— ^^ hich as he hails betwixt yon towering Hills, \\ ilh their romantic intlucncc to [jrcvail To weave another visionary Tale — The which although the sway of F'ancy fills But with such phantoms as yon misty train. That scour along thy lofty wild domain — As an Enthusiast, still, with transports warm, There, mighty Minstrel ! he would own the charm To ring a little change, at starting, on your Strain. * The Vale of Bampton. T II !•; T M.M r LA l{, iM E A b A > D. T. A gentle Knight was ambling on the plain, Not clad in mighty arms and ponderous shield. Which there was here but little need to wield. Where Nature, so secluded, holds her reigti : Yet, weaponless as one, in days of yore, Ne'er dared to travel, in his belt he wore, Confiding in the aid they could afford, With a small buckler his right trusty sword — A light lauce, too, a Squire or Page beside him bore. J()S TH K I I. M I' I. Alt. 11. The while the Reel Cross on his mantle wiiitc, \^ ith all th' accoutrements that well array So brave a Warrior of that warlike day, I'roclaims the Order of the valiant Knight ; Who, as he ambles on his generous steed. That was, Arabia, of thy choicest breed, Upon the palfrey of th' attendant Boy, Upon his wrist caressing with such joy A fav'rite falcon, seems to take but little heed. 111. For, in the ruthless war, that had been waged Of late against his Order, of each sin And crime accused, the Temple's Paladin Was in his noble spirit all engaged : And though himself from each attack aloof, As well from conscience, as from station, proof, Yet for his hapless Brethren, doomed to share The malice of the Monarch * styled the Fair, He, sympathizing, felt the kicks of his brute-hoof. Pliilip IV. of France. M K A s A N 1) . 1 C)9 IV. When, to arouse liim from his musing mood (For Nature had asserted o'er his soul The swav with which she couki his cares contr(jl), Delighted as he kens the opening Flood,* Thus to his Page did brave Sir Arduli)li say — " There seems a promise t)f a goodly day, \\ ith hound and hawk as, Kldred, we repair To raise to-morrow from their nest and lair The flying game, that will our labour well repay." V, " Ay, marry, with this Merlin on my wrist I have no fears," exclaims th' excited boy. So anxious and caressing with such joy The hawk with such affection as he kissM. Measand, conversing thus they reach thy strand. There where so wisely, to protect the Land, Was reared a \\'atch Tower in those warlike times. So rife each hour in all marauding crimes. For guard requiring but a small and trusty band. * Hawes Water. 17" in l'^ I' H M I' I. A K. VI. That, like tlic noble Spartan one of yore, VVoultl, in the I'ass, have gallantly withstood A host of Foes beside its noble Flood : There, boldly uhootini; tow'rdt. the adverse shore (\\'hcre Castle (rai^ and \\ allow rear on high Their ramparts 'gainst th' invading Enemy), The Promontory leaves so scant a space lM)r the fair Lake, expanding thence, with grace And grandeur, in array of mountain majesty. vii. \\\ llarter, High Street and by \\ belter Fell, The Circuit so s\iblimc he loves to make (Thy poet's prelude, Hawes, around thy Lake), May o'er his fancy weave a fav'ring spell — To where thy murmurs, swollen, Fordingdale, Could o'er the knightly hero of his tale (Arresting as they caught his charmed ear, As o'er thy foam-clad steep thou seek'st thy Mere) \\ ith such a tuneful soothing influence prevail. MK AS AN 1). VIU. *' Beliold in yonder Cat:u*act portrayed The Emblem, Eldred, of iny Destiny," The Teniphir tiuis burst forth indignantly, \\ iiose ivindk'd spirit all his bosom swayed, "E'en in the turbid waters of yon Force, Whose voice with their turmoil resounds so hoarse, Till they have overcome their craggy steep, Whence they re-echo with their foaming leap. To hold their traniiuillized, softly flowing course. IX. " So may its spirit triumph o'er its doom, That with such wrongs I feel mv frame assail ! So may my Destiny at length prevail, My days flow on as calmly to the Tomb ! Yet hard, indeed, in toils and struggles rife, Fighting for my Religion through my life, To mark the lowering clouds of Calumny Obscure th' horizon of my evening sky 1 To have to bear for mv reward so dire a strife ! 17- THK r EMI' I, All. X. " That, where her vcnom'd shafts Detraction flings, At one fell swoop our Order all destroyed ! So, the gorged vultures with their plunder cloyed, The welkin with their shrieks of triumph rings." Though, where his passing thought? he flius bestowed. His sorrows like the swollen torrent flowed, By which He of the Red Cross reached the Mere, Devoid of all remorse and craven fear, Beneath that badge yet so consoled his spirit glowed. XI. There, where arrested by the beauteous Scene, He roinM his courser and, enchanted, stood, Gazing upon the glorious Land and Flood, The anguish of his soul might intervene (So deeply in his destiny severe Absorb'd) e'en to wring forth a Templar's tear ; Which unobserved not as he, rousing, thought His young companion, by his glance, had caught. Might make a flush upon his kindled cheek appear. MKASANU. J 73 XII. Which as with sympathetic fcelinijs warm He owned, who oft had seen him in this mood, The Youth turn'd his attention, with its hood, Unto the pet lie bore upon his arm : As one then from his thraldom to be freed, Did brave Sir Ardulph on his generous steed Bethink himself thence nimbly to l)estir, And gently to his side the Golden Spur To give, upon whose saddle he had won that Meed. XIII. There, midway, on that neck of land uprose The Watch Tower, Measand, of thy noble Flood, That with its gallant band had oft withstood, By Fordingdale well moated 'gainst its foes : To which so anxiously as they now hied. Whence they were all so joyfully descried, Lo ! then the welcome from its goodly Tower, Hoisting the friendly Banner of its power, Our Knight and Page hailed with a grateful, heartfelt pride. J71 riiK r i: M Pi.A K. XIV. On further errand, too, Sir Ardulph came Than merely for the sport around the Tower, Thi' happ) Ivo, in auspicious hour, To greet upon the bliss that crowns liis flange — At his approaching Nuptials to attcnil, Betrothed unto the Daughter of the Friend Of d'Abrinois — to charming Laderinc, One of the lovely scions of the Line Of Walter ilohne* of Mardale — whither soon they wend. XV. I'pon such hallowed errand when he came, The noble nature of the valiant Knight Was all too generous, in his own despite, To damp the joy diffused around that flame, To bear a clouded brow unto the Tower, As in its turret, in auspicious hour. He with his happy Host shared the repast, What time the softest shades of evening cast Upon so sweet a Scene their tranquillizing power. * " An ancestor of the family of Holme settled anciently in these parts, and the Holmes of Mardale have lived here ever since the reign of King John." — Green's Guide. M K.\ ^A N I.'. 17'^ XVI. Lo ! where that chosen Station can command The varied lleuches of the beauteous Lake, In all the glowing hues which they can take, It made the Tem[)lar"'s lightiMTd heart expand — As now, to soothe his Foster Father's woe. The anxious Boy exerts his skill to show, And with an End)lcm, at an hour so meet. Such Audience with its sympatliy to greet, To make it in such simple- prompted numbers flow. XVII. THE FLOWER OF CHIVALRY, A BALLAD. Clad in robe of heav'nly light, Which its radiant lustre shed On the armour of a Knight, A celestial Vision led : — IJi't I II i; I K M I' I. \ It. Tlierc tlii'v stood, ;i glorious pair, From the gath'ring cloud of storm, As the Moon s^lionc out so fair Oh each bright illumiu'd Form. Where the Spoiler's steps luive been Midst a Region waste and wild. That was once so fair a Scene, Still one ling'ring Blossom smiled. *' As your Meed accept this Flower," \\ ith which Truth the Chief addrest, '* Proof ai^ainst each blast and shower, Knight, to bloom upon your Crest !" M KA<.\ N I). J 77 XVIII. And, now, wliat wonder ? with the Minstrel's aid (Though with thy garden to a waste so wild Now changed), with thy fancy so beguiled. Yet, Valour, still invincibly arrayed. That thou should 'st bear thee, in the panoply Of Conscience, 'gainst the bolts of Calumny ! W^hat wonder? with their desolating power. He, who so keenly felt that blast and shower. Should in his visions pluck The Flower of Chivalry ! N 178 noVACK MOOH, I. Behoves nic here no further to rocount Than tluit like heroes, laden with their spoils, Wiiich crown'd heyond their sanc^uine hopes their toils, How they enjoyed the triumphs of the Mount* — Behoves me here no further then to treat Now of a pastime all so obsolete, With all its olden phraseology-. The gentle craft as termed so gracefully, Than with their feats our gallant Followers to greet. • Hawking phrase. DOVACK MOOR. IJO II. When lo ! in evil hour, upon tlio Moor (When sunk behind tlic Ritlge of Saddleback, The sun so bloody with his gilded rack), To startle many a homeward trudging buor, The scared wild fowl, with as dread a yell As ever issued from the depths of I J ell, With hound , with hawks, with hernshaws in affright, Arose and Avere all soon wing'd out of sight — The Sportsmen left aghast upon the lonely Fell, III. For, midst yon Grove of weather-beaten Firs, \\'hich crowns the summit of the bleak bare Hill, There where the wild winds whistle all so shrill, ^^'hat haggard Phantom, like fell Hecate, stirs The hissing Cauldron as it steams so high ? As in its furnace glares her Gorgon eye. Infuriate, with its most malignant scowl ; Beside her while there sits, beneath a cowl, One who so joyfviUy the fuel doth supply. n2 iiHJ III 1 I I Ml- l..\ H. IV. As, all bedroppinij with its tloadly dt'w (Which shod its venom on the blist'ring wood), That for some victim scemM tir intended food, The GorLjon from the his^sing Cauldron drew And waved aroiiiid her wand a hranc-h»nf yew, Then he, with whom tliat liell-broth slie did brew, Arose, and, throwing back his monkish hood. Obedient to the lieldain's bidding stood. As in their pronipled strains their task tliey thus pursue. V. INCANTATION. Gatliering wolves begin to howl, \N ith their glaring eyeballs gaunt, As the shades of evening scowl I pon our accursed haunt — Which the bat and hooting howl \\ ith its horrors can so daunt, That they leave us for the night To perform our hellish Rite ! DO \' AC K MOO U. I SI VI. HELWISE. Ill our Grove of blasted Firs, Tliroui^h each quivVing bush and brake, Such a dciuoii-spirit stirs As might make a Nero quake ! And all cowVdly yelping curs At the sounds and sights to shake, With which our Solcuiiiities Could their eyes and ears surprise ! VII. HUGO. Helwise, for our Incantation What through magic hast thou wrought, Vers'd in spells of deep damnation By the Prince of Darkness taught ! O'er the Cauldron your Oration, ^Vith the tribute you have brought, Fiends await to hear you sing, In their ravish 'd ears to ring ! IB2 Til I. I i: M r I. A II. VIU. HELWISE. Hugo, of my skill you know I am i.o vain vaunting singer, Vet, to strike a cleaiUy blow Conscience never made me linger — In the Cauldron thus I throw A sweet strangled liaby's finger, \\ itli the kindred blood we've spilt, \N ith such triumph in our guilt I IX. BOTH. By the quivering of the flame, liy the Cauldron's steam and bubble. Though Foes come to work our shame And to give us toil and trouble — On their fiery steed of fame \\ itch and Wizard riding double, On the red-hot Road of Sin, Must the day resistless win ! I)()VA( K MOOU. 183 X. Tliere as Sir Ardulph and young Eldrcd chaiicod To pass that way, with a sardonic smile, With which they scarcely could conceal their guile. The (jipsy Twain to greet them then advanced. Fain of the l^lge a little history (And touching deeply, too, his Company) I would relate — the Foundling ot" the Stream (Saved by Sir Anlulph in my waking dream) Where, Lowther,o'er thy bed thou flow'st so fretfully. XI. There, at the deed, the spirit of the wave, Methinks, recoiling with so great a shock, Was shrieking heard, from his re-echoing Rock, To spare the Innocent a watery grave ! There, with the breezy night so overcast, Athwart the summer moon as quickly past, So bright, at intervals, the hurrying rack Reveal'd, scarce veiling her refulgent track, There, Lowther, by thy stream our Knight was riding fast — 184 Ml K I K M i'l.A K. XII. Just opposite to where uprose u Tower Upon the other b:uik, on which the night Shed, like ii troui)lecl dre;iin, its fitful ligl»t ; And where the fancy still, at such an hour, May, Askham, in thy venerable Hall The Spirit of departed Time recall — As well as, Lowther, throw across thy Tide The Arch that spans it on its shelving side. As when thy foaming eddies might his heart appal. XIII. \\ ho, still, within their saving vortex whirled, Beheld, beneath the Providential gleam With which the Moon illumin\l then that stream, From off that Arch some object in it hurled By two dark Forms, as in a vision wild. With which his startled senses seem'd beguiled — Yet, ere the sweet intended victim sank. The Knight plunged in and bore unto the bank, As scarce his eyesight could believe, a little child. IJONACK MDOK. 185 XIV. There was a lowly structure * dctlicute To thee. Saint I'eter, ou thy Rock, beside The Stream, to which those two dark Figures hied ; Whose aspects, on th' adventure I rehite, So pale ami ghastly at the altar there — So wrapt in shriving, penance, and in prayer — May tell the fears so terrible within, On the commission of a deadly sin, And lighten up to fancy in the taper's glare. XV. Nor, till arising with its lurid light, The morn low'r'd on that Region, did they dare, That conscience stricken and mysterious Pair, Again to venture forth upon that night : And through that Region, when they took their way. One of such solemn sylvan rich array, Well might " the River there be heard in wrath " By them, beholding, in their guilty path, A spectre in its foam to fill them with dismay. • " The church " (which has lately been rebuilt,)] " is dedicated to St. Peter, perhaps in allusion to the rock on which it is founded." — Burns' ff' est mor eland. J 8(3 I II K TKMI'IAK. XVI. There as asceiuliiig from their decp-tjiink bed Of rock, so foaming where the waters dasli, Beside their richly wooded bank, the Rash, In v;iin the Ciiitifls from their murmurs fled — So sounding still with a rebuking tone,» As long as they could hear their mournful moan — So ringing in their ears, upon the W ild. Still with the wailings of the murder'd Child, That show'd the prize e'en at such cost of life fore- gone. XVIT. \\'hen ages, Critics, o'er a scene have roU'd, W hereon Time throws, with such strong agency, The misty mantle of Anticjuity, As well ye know, a Poet may behold As suits his fancy — at this fated hour — So fares it, Askham, with your haunted Tower, Forsaken for some deed of foulest die And echoing with dire shrieks of agony, As it was bruited, thus become the Monarch's dower. I)I)V.\( K MOOH. 187 XVlll. Nor have I woven in tny waking Dream More than the Annals of the \\'orlcl, in times Less fruitful in their Chroniele of crimes, Tliaii those of whicii I speak have been the theme For I'oets — wiien sueh plots of secret guile Could of their due inheritance despoil Knights, Peers and I'rinces, till some turn of fate Could haply in their honours reinstate Them, with sueii triumph o'er each scheme of deepest wile. XIX. As, witii the sinking Cauldron on the Stage, The Hags do vanish into air, thin air, So did it with those very Worthies fare, Whose Orgies could my fancy so engage : Ere they departed yet that Gipsy Twain Their pledge then chanted, in mysterious Strain The Knight and Page so little understood. Then as they faded in their blighted Wood, Which loudly echoed forth that Pledge to meet again. 188 r II K r k m !• i.a k. XX. Time, wliicli uiiravrls many a mystery, May so elucidat*' my darkling riiome, W liicli I iiavc woven in a waking Dream, As yet a saving I^esson may supply — And, to tlie Critic pleading my excuse, May, haply, some redeeming lore infuse, With a congenial spirit to prevail To travel farther Mith me in my Talc, Majestic Mardale ! midst thy solemn scenes to muse. Ibl) MARDALE. 1. There where sechuled Nature holds her reign (Beyond which all into a hopeless Waste * Contracts, adown which so precipitous haste The Torrents, in their desolate domain, There ever with such a destructive sway 'Twixt mould'ring ^Mountains) lo ! I take my way, With such a Spirit to the Region still, There, Nature, on the site of Chapel Hill, My tribute to thy tranquillizing charms to pay. • " Above the chapel, all is hopeless waste and desolation. The little vale contracts into a glen strewed with the precipitated rains of mouldering mountains and the destruction of perpetual waterfalls." — West's Guide. 190 THE IKMI'l. AU. II. There, where the Mcnuitain Nymph, sweet Liberty, May choose the Region for her blissful seat, \^'hich erst an Exile sought for his Retreat, And Nature for her ardent Votary Full many an altar, with her decking liand, Rear in those rocky knolls, at His command That call'd these towering Glories into birth, Yon liquid Mirror and the teeming Earth, VV'here Fancy may be welcomed, too, with waving wand. III. As now my musing memory would recall, To warn the Trav'Uer from the fearful Fell Arising to my fancy like a Spell — There where the Region, with its barrier Wall, The craggy towering Steep divides — the Dale Of Desolation from the fertile Vale — There, as along th' Impostor Prophet's Bridge, Meet only for some Fay so sharp a Ridge Safely to ride thereon as thine, O Riggendale ! MARDALE. 191 IV. There as, of late, in that deep Solitude, I listened to the murmur of the Stream, " In many a sportive curve " and silver gleam That to the Lake its lonely course pursued, " A Stone, half sunk, there show'd its head of moss " Above the ground, protected by a fosse, Amid the mountain wild that marks a Grave, O'er which no willow could he seen to wave — As a Memorial where was fix'd a little Cross. V. One, who had wander'd forth at early morn, As soon as, o'er yon Ridge, it could illume The glimm'ring shades around that humble Tomb, And in its yellow garb the Rock adorn Of lichen, shedding, too, its roseate ray Upon a neighb'ring Torrent's tinted spray, " Lo ! here where all thy mortal cares did cease Where, dearest Agnes, thou wert laid in peace," (As to that Cross he bent thus did the Mourner say) — li'2 III K 1 K M I'LAK. VI. " Lo ! here lie hails thf Promise in yon Star, That MOW so brightly in the ICa>tiTn Sky, So fair to Walter Holme's parental eye, The I'h'dtjc of Peace bears in its silver car — W ith it< auspicious lustre to illume » Not less his widowM state than Daughter's doom, Whilst ill his heart he feels our Laderine, Match'd with a noble Kinsman of his Line, So dostin'd with the will of Heaven in bliss to bloom." VIT. lie ceasM — where now the murm'ring \N'atcrfall His melancholy could so, soothing, please, As through those aged pines the sighing breeze The Sainted Spirit from the Tomb did call. *' Beneath this Rock hum a^ n towers on high Was SEALED OUR Pledge of Love and Constancy!' \\ here mournful memory — as it could impart A solace to the sorrows of his heart — Lifts to the brightening vault of Heaven his glistening eve — M \ U I) A IK. \9'.\ \' 1 1 I . Such the Inscription on the chcrishM Spot So dear to his Affection, from the shock Of Tempests slielterM by that archini^ Rock, That formM beneath it such a holy (irot : Whence as tlic Mourner kcnn'il across the meads The nohU- Kniglits, his guests, upon their steeds, Them (w ith \vlio XIV. Once more to Temple Sowerby * he wends, Once more to marslial, l-2tk>n, on thy side, And take his seat with mehmcholy pride For the last time amidst his gallant Friends : For, though like lions, with the hunter's wiles Beset on all sides, taken in the toils, Their Foeman dared not witli his plund'ring hand Add insult to Sir Ardulph and his Band, As often Tyraimy respects where it despoils. XV. So, with its honours as they still displayed Their Banner, with its Red Cross bright unfurl'd, In all their Chivalry, with all the World In arms against them, as they march arrayed, Then, Eden, as thy well-known echo-f- gave, Long did its memory, o'er thy murm'ring wave, Dwell on the ears of those who heard the Strain, Upon thy Banks as ne'er to meet again Then loudly there as their lament pour forth the brave. * " Below Kirby Thore, and adjoining thereto on the north-west, lies Temple Sowerby ; so called, by way of distinction, from its having belonged heretofore to the Kn\ghtsTemp\a.rs."— Bums' fVeslmoreland. + Alluding to the remarkable echo here. •2(M) THE TKMIM.AU. XVI. Once more to Tomplo Soworhy he wends, Once more to m;ir>li:il, lldcn, on thy bide. And take liis seat with inehmcholy pride For the hist time amidst his galhint Friends — All smartinij with tlicir wronj^s, for them to tell ■r> The indiirnation that each heart mit'ht swell, I'pon the fiendish triumph of the day, That seal'd th' atrocious sentence of Molay, Unconquer'd, thus, to prompt, at parting, their fare- well. XVII. THR TEMPLARS' FARKH ILL SONG. On the .Star of our Order, no longer now beaming As it shone so glorious and brilliant of yore — On its lustre now quench 'd in the torrents all stream- ing By the Tyrant so ruthless of our brave brethren's gore — Such a Demon on Earth, so fierce and so fell, At the fire, by the Fiends preparing in Hell. ^L-xy quake when he thinks how he kindled the flame, In which glared the Steeples of his proud Notre Dame ! sii A r A lui K V. 207 XVIII. From the Acjc, when, at Salem, our Order assembled In their strongliold, whence, rusliing, their keen falchions fell (At which HcathcM II()r(K's so often have treniljlctl) On tiie cleft turi)ann'cl head of the swart Infidel, In guard of the I'ilgrlin on his Mission Divine, \\ ho hath,witii such transport, on liis return from the shrine, Proclaimed liirougii cacli gralctul, through each distant land. The strength, the tried temper of the Templar'^ bright Brand. XIX. Than which, since bold Baldwin our Order arrayed (As e'er with such lustre it flash'd in the van), None e'er in the aid of each Holy Croisade U'ith more prowess was wielled by each brave Kniglited clan ! And, when sated with Fame, and with the increase Of our Fortunes, we wish'd to sheathe it in Peace, The Wolves of all Europe, with Philip the Fair At their head, for the Hunt then uprose from their Lair : — *J08 I H K 1 KM V I. A U. XX. The Monarch and Statesman, the Soldier and Priest, In tlieir haunts, like a vulture, cacli scented afar, \\'ith heak and with talons to pounce on the feast, As tliov plotted and plann'd their plundering war — The Pope to h\> Packs to run us all down The sigr)al then gave, with his frown and each crown, In their kennels their Master each Hound in his cowl Tiie signal ohey'd, with his howl anil his scowl — XXI. With one nohle exception, upon our doomed Race, For the wealth \vv had earn'd, that refus'd to set on, For our coveted wealth, the Dogs of the Chase, That Spirit that reign'd o'er thee, Arragon ! \\'ith fire, and with rack, and with forged confessions. As they layd their foul fangs on all our possessions. Against us the Fiends, who could only give hirth To such projects, then seem'd all let loose upon Earth ! ^ M Ah A » JJ K Y. 209 XXII. In his ranks, yet, each Teniphir, undaunted, still keeping (Tliough as dire as tlie Blast of the Desert it came, 'Die hot breatii from its base tlie Order now sweeping) Evinces a Spirit that no threats e'er can lame : — So let us through a Host of implacable Foes, \\ ith the worM now in arms our course tt) oppose. Another example, it called on, aft'ord, To Glory, to Death, to cut our way with our Sword ! XXlil. Then, as each Knight arose and struck his Sword, Around the Board, upon the sounding hilt (By which ne'er but its Foenian's blood was spilt). In after time as faithful to his word Each proved, against each wretch that dared gainsay The arm, that, with such honourable sway. Could wield it 'neath the lustre of thy Star — Whence, marching out \\'ith all the pride of war, Spirit of Chivalry ! they owned its guiding ray. 210 THE TEMPI A R. Reft of their Rii^lits — fallen on evil days — Still, with his gallant Company, the Chief Felt in his conscience that Divine Relief, That with such strong support the spirit sways : — Where soothing Fricndsiiip could, for many a year, Those days with \\ alter Holme of Mafdale cheer. When raging Avarice, with vindictive gall, Doomed his distinguish'd Order to its Fall, The Templar Knight so peacefully closed his career. Lo ! where yon solitary Tower * uprears Its venerable Structure on thy side, As on the Arch, that spans thy rapid Tide, The Emblem, Lowther, of the lapse of years — As on that Arch, good critic, in my strain, I, musing, gaze the Phantoms of my brain (The Spirit of departed Time recalls \Mtlun the precincts of yon ancient walls). You'll ask, perchance, how they did disappear again ? • Of Shap Abbey. SHAF ABHKY. 211 E'en so, with your permission, let them pass, Nor at their ghost-like exit, Critic start, That such should come like shadows — so depart — Wrought by the Poet's Magic Lantern's Glass — Your Poet, still, like Fancy's dreaming Child, Still witii his VisioiKiry Themo beguiled, As homeward he now wends across the jNIoor, Within each circle, startling many a boor, Descries a Cairn * and Column on the awful Wild. As a last effort, at this solemn hour (" Nor are the stubborn forms of Earth and Stone " As her lamented Minstrel f well did own *' Less subject to the Sorceress's power,") The fancy, as Memorials, to my gaze The Witch and Wizard Monk transform 'd portrays (In whom in league to crush a noble mind Hypocrisy with calumny combined). This to the Pillar, that unto thy Heap, White Raise. * See the first note. t Sir Walter Scott in Harold the Dauntless. p2 21*2 THK rKMIM. \K. So wlieii, at length, from this comniaiulini^ Height,* The L.ake, the Mountains, and my dear Domain, Small as it is, spread forth their charming reign. The Vision melts away before my sight : — No Vision then my fancy can j^o please, Accomp'nicd M-itli such hri^lit Hcalitio* — No Vision like the view possess the power My much-loved dwelling where they so embower — No Vision like the smoke upcurling from my trees. And when I reach thy Realms, each well-known Scene Around thee, I'llsmere, yet would still betpieath Unto each Region a much richer wreath Than I have woven (whom to laud, I ween. May even prompt your Votary to roam). Fair Lake ! may no malignant Elf or Gnome, No Fiend or green-eyed Monster e'er prevail With thee against the Author of each Tale, Returning not the less, each time, fond of his Home. • Barton Fell. THE HEKMIT OF THE ISLE, A VISION or DERWEXT WATER. PERSONS OF THE VISION. The Spirit of Saint Herbert. Adulf, the Hermit. Waldcof. Maiul, his Granddaughter. Pilgrims. The action of the poem is supposed to take place in the reign of Henrv Vlll. P 11 E M. One, wlio did sojourn long upon thy banks, (And where can Fancy with more sway prevail Than, Keswick, in " thy sweet fantastic Vale ") To thee, fair Derwent, would return his thanks ! Who, so enraptured with thy realms sublime. There, halting, so enjoyed the happy time. On his romantic pilgrimage still bent, Ere he had anchor cast or pitch'd his tent. As well may prompt again, as then, his grateful rhyme. 216 PROKM, Where, Nature, thou so deeply didst imbue His kindled feelings with such strong desire And with thv influence f;in the (jucnchless fire, Hence e'er to give thee every honour duo — To tread, in memory, every varied dale That branches, Keswick, from thy glwrious vale — In all his towering majesty confest The Monarch Mountain,* with his purple crest, And every peak amid his subject ridge, to hail ! To Nature as he would delighted talk All of these kindling glories for his theme, Her lake, her mountains, she can little deem Him there ambitious of the Ludi/'.s Jrallve thy towering wall, As, Gowder Crag, he, musing, saw the falcon soar. VII. Thus was he not " a falcon with clipp'd wing," Around him with each summit to invite His contemplation in its heav'nly flight. The glories of Creation thence to sing, The Hermit, who, fulfilling faithfully The duties of his sacred ministry. Each conscience with his pious counsel cheered, As owned the pilgrims, as they homeward steered. And grateful breathed a blessing on his charity. '2'M) T 11 K U K R M I I OK I UK IS I. K. VIII. The blessliis:^ (as was echoiui by eacli fell The chant attain), so sweetly from tlie boat, Came, like a spirit, in the strain atloat, O'er his with such a tuiiet'ul soothiiiir spell, Until it died away upon his ear — The chant, that with its charm thy soul could cheer, In silence and in solitude to keep Its vigils, Adulf, o'er the trarujuil deep, The face of Heaven reflecting in its mirror clear: — IX. I pon that eve the fairest of the year, Then when, invested with so rich a glow, The lake reflected still the wreaths of snow Upon the mountains in that mirror clear — As melting, Adulf, in its genial ray The frozen chains of bigotry awav. In such an hour to thee so big with fate. So deeply stricken, thou might''st contemplate That lovely, emblematic evening to portray. r M K IS L E. 231 X. Oft as he made the circuit of the Isle, He paused, each time, wlierc with so strong a ciiain His heart (I say it with no voice profane) Was bound unto the scene, where beams tiie while His golden star to prompt his fervent ga/.e — Till, with the landscape, fading in the haze, Beneath the influence of the sacred spell, That eve, that summons liim unto his ceil. All with its charm the Solitary's fancy sways. XI. Half slumb'ring, as reclined before the flame, To meditation he devotes the night, Lo ! then, at length, arose the awful sprite — Saint Herbert to his musing fancy " came Before his eyes, the form of other years," And so distinctly to his view appears, Applauds his course, and with his solemn voice Calls on the young enthusiast to rejoice, As now the mist quite from the ken of Adulf clears. 232 THK iiKRMii OK rnK ist. k. XII. *' Sleeps Adult" ill his cell?" upon a beam Of nii^lit, thus, near the window of his rest, The anchoret of other times addrest The living hermit in his f.itofiil dri-am — " Sleeps Adulf in his cell?" it seem'd to say, The vision, *' In the bright forthcoming day Awake and, fearlei's, hail your haj)|)y doom, O thou, to whom arising from tiic tomb. The spirit fain would hence direct you on your way !" Mil. Then, as beneath that morn's auspicious light, He gazed from the window of his rest. The Hermit, on its towering gilded crest (As vanish'd from his view the awful sprite) As on thy summit, Skiddaw, did appear An hovering cloud, so, mingled with a fear, A doubt still linger'd, Adulf, in thy soul, Which, arm'd with power through such vain control. She pierc'd with force resistless as Ithuriel's spear. T H K 1 s L h . 233 XIV. " Thou searcher of ;ill souls !'' the hermit crieil, " Art witness how I have eiuhirod tlie chain \\ hich cost my spirit such conflietinir pain, Which I cast off with conscience as my guide : — The holy passion, sanctioned hy thv power, That glowed so purely in thine ilden's hower (Each iey link, that tlid a chill impart Unto its core, dissolving round my heart), I feel, 1 feel, triumplKint in tin- h;ipp\- hour! XV. " Yet, with no impious thoughts thy wrath to brave, Forsaking for the world my sacred call. But as, enfranchised from his hapless thrall, Exults the grateful captive or the slave — Eased of the heavy iron-forged vow That made my youthful struggling spirit bow — Whose prospect as the angel Hope now cheers, Faith hails the emblem in the breeze that clears The envious mist dispersing, Skiddaw, from thy brow!" 'J.'>4 T II K II K K M I I () y III K LAKE. DEHWEXT BAY. I. \\'here, scarce more than a bowshot from the Isle, So sweetly lies ingulph'd a beauteous bay, Deliglitful Dcrwent, to my rapt survey Thou mak'st again in all its charms to smile : There thou, my fancy, as a chosen spot With all, methinks, to crown their happy lot, ^^'hose cordial wish might gain it as their home, By memory guided, may'st, enraptured, roam Unto the bay, which ne'er by thee can be forgot. D B R \V K N T H A Y . 235 II. There, Fancy, in such an enchanting scene, I may invoke thy fav'ring aid to trace A region of such graiuk'nr and such grace — Along its rocky shore and margin green, Tlirough glooms and many a heauteous opening glade, In cheerful sunshine and through solemn shade. To reach each promontory that can boast So fair a station on its lairy coast — A realm by Nature so transcendent ly arrayed. III. There did tiic happy Hermit now repair (Who, Nature, in his worship at thy shrine Did pay due homage to the Power Divine), A pilgrim, too, to offer up his prayer. Where, as he owned the sacred mingled flame. Truly a father confessor he came Unto a]bcautiful young maid, called Maud, To chant like Clio or to limn like Claude, Although her charms have not been sung so loud by fame. 2 T) T ri F II K U M IT <) K I 11 »• I s L K. IV. Bj' favour of the lord of the fair lake, There where, iinbowcr'd, her {lweIHiit|f you portray, Upon its margin in that beauteous bay. There .^o enraptured, I'aney, you betake — Her father in the h)ng protraeted war, That shook the nation with such mortal jar, Had fouj^ht and fallen, Bosworth, in the hour Of triuin[)h. on thy firld, unto thi' nnwer 'I'liat hailed the House of Lancaster's ascending star. V. Her hapless mother was coiisiirned to eartli. On hearinur eliilil I'nto her station (so possest Of sohice) to be reconciled : — With grateful fervour for the grace, To her vouchsafed from above, In him who ail a parent's place Supplies with h\> o'erflowing love — Still she, to meet your warm embrace, Pants for the pinions of a dove ! 1)E n W KNT H \ Y 211 XIII. Thus did its struggles, in ;i mingled tide Of joy and woe, pour forth their chxjueiice, That cinhliMu, slie invoked, of innoeenco, As in her spirit she personified, That lonirM " to flee away and be at rest." And there were others, for whom she addrest Her warmest supplication, for the tower Of strength she felt so grateful in his power — Nor, further, with a sigh, her prayer was unreprest. XIV. That might the noble chieftain of the land, E'er for the home and succour he would yield And o'er a helpless orphan spread his shield, With uncontrolled acknowledgment command, The other with a web of hopes and fears Was woven to wring forth her burning tears ! W^hen, passing thus the crisis of her fate, She ceased to weep — to hail a happier state. As Adulf s self unto her joyous view appears : — R 212 rHK HERMIT OF THE ISLK. XV. To seal the bond — to cross the £^ilf accurst, On earth 'twixt such supreme felicity As by tlic licU-braccd sway of bii,'otry AsiUKler, with a yawn so hideous, burst ! And when, at length, the chasm was heard to close, Loud echoing with such strong convulsive throes, Thence freed, as they return again to bow Before their altars with a holier vow, Full many in their faith more firmly then repose. XVI. As tiien proclaimed, with many a merry peal, Tiiroughout the hmd from many a sacred tower, By those who doff, in such auspicious hour, The cowl, with triumph, in tlie joy they feel : As the good tidings you'll be pleased to learn Where your attention, reader, I would turn, Where, in its vale of beauty, it appears So venerable with the lapse of years. The Sanctuary* dedicate there to Saint Kentigern. • Crosthwaite Church: of this church Hutchinson says, "It is dedicated to St. Kentigern, and was given to the abbey of Fountains, in Yorkshire, by Alice de Romely." I) K H U' K N r U A Y, 243 XVII. There, Waldeof, as he gave away the bride, That to his earthly wishes did impart The crown, tliere did he feel, witii liis whole heart, The dictates of his conscience too allied, When, in the darkness clearing off the land, Young Adulf, with no sacrilegious hand, His fetters as he flung into the deep, His soul no longer in their thrall to keep. Sanctioned by Heaven, prepared it for an holier band. XVIII. Who, following still his calling with due zeal, Deserted not the sacred path he trod, With greater glory, Nature, to thy God ! As Faith more purely set her glowing seal. In those auspicious times, upon his heart (The wiles of priestcraft as they shone to thwart), To whom, (as in " the light in BuUen's eyes * Then dawning") to illumine his fair skies, Such heavenly joy with Maud his union did impart. * When love coald teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes. Gray. r2 244 THE HKU.Mir OK T II K ISI.K. *' TIow disappeared he?" in his Brownie's cell As asi\s the poet* of *' the newt and toad" He deems '* inheritors of the abode, Tiie otter croneliim:, undi.^turb'il, to tell," As further he doth ask, " in lur dank cleft!" Nor of all rerupie of his reluge reft, As lived the far-famed Brownie in his den, So hast thou, Derwent, of " \\(jrM-wearied men,' In ruin a memorial in thy bosom left. Though not world-wearied wert thou in thy cell, As Fancy, Adulf, in a happier age. Hath oped the Micket of thy hermitage For thee, confined not there through life to dwell. So bigoted an anchoret austere, As fancy has call'd up, to thee so dear, The spirit, with her influence the while To soothe thy sojourn in thy lonely isle And prompt thy solemn meditations o'er its mere ; • Wordsworth. D E R W E N T B A Y. 245 As well with all their pleasures and their pains. The contrast, that consii^ns them to their cells (" Where heavenly pensive Contemplation dwells And ever musin^j Melancholv reii(iis," Though chanted in the most melodious strains). May hring the pair he thinks with little gains, Who, gentle reader, would your favour ask On the completion of his anxious task. And with a moral fain would point the talc lie feigns. THE FAIS^ATIC EECLABfKD, A VISION OF BASSENTHWAITE WATER. PERSONS OF THE VISION A lured, the IV'tor. Ethwfild, the Fanatic. Edric, his Friend. Edwina, Sister of Edric. Mollo. The action of the Poem is supposed to take place in the reign of John. p R E ^^. Well niay the Tourist * in his tuneful strnin, Fair Lake, though souiuled hut in siui[)lc prose, The slighted beauties of thy realm disclose And with the poet and the painter plain ! • " Parties of pleasure at Keswick neglect this water; they seldom think it worth while to navigate it ; its beauties, indeed, are very dif- ferent from those of the lake above; but that is the very cause from whence they become more pleasing. To enjoy the scenes properly, the visitant should navigate these lakes alternately. This affords many bays, where you may in some parts push under the cover of a lofty, overhanging grove, and in other rocky coves, where you find the gentler echo, favourable to music and a song. The painter has tamer landscapes here, but they are warmer and more serene than those of Keswick. Soft pastoral scenes margin the lake, on the eastern side, over which Skiddaw lifts an august brow, to give the boldest contrast to the green and gently rising eminences, the scat- '2.')U ritoKM. With wlioni lio cannot fail to syinpathi/c In vision as tiiou ciiarm'st again liis eyes, In vision as he loves again to trace, Fair Bassenthwaitc, thy grandeur and tliy grace, His hand wiio to depict thy slightctl beauties tries. tered coppices, the velvet-drest lawn, the rich verdure of the mead, the tranquil cottage, and the serene and shining mirror which the lake expands. The Ijoldest landscape found here, consists of irregular eminences, clothed with oaks, at whose feet a grassy margin lies to the water's brink, and holds some farmhold ; whilst ihe sublimer mountains, pile upon pile, lift up their heads, and, from the western sun, cast long shades upon the lake, whose distant shores catch the surpassing beams, and glow with additional beauty from the con- trasting shades; o%'er which the distant eminences mix their brows with the azure atmosphere. Such are the beauties of Bassenthwaite Water." — I/utchhw.n'M Hi$tnry nf Cumberland. THE V A N A T 1 C RECLAIM]^ i). DIKE NOOK AND MOSS SIDE. T. Romantic region ! up your towering side Unto your summits, in your cultured dress (Your ravaged realm below a wilderness Left), might your tenants, in their ruined pride. Far heavier feel, methinks, the tyrant's hand Fall than the papal curse, with fire and brand His forces from discomfiture returned, To wreak its fury as his anger burned, Inflamed and sharpcu'd by revenge, upon your land- '2i}'2 V 1 1 K K A N A T r C |{ K C L A I M K P . II. Until, as i^ood from evil oftcti i^priiiefs, The favourod isle's the nation's encr<^ies, At siieli a crisis, could not fail to rise, To curb despotic democnits and kini^s : ^^ hen hallowed freedom, her most precious scroll (Whose lubtre mii;ht illume from pole to pole, And for the admiration of the world In its innnortal i,dory be unfurl'd) III tln> renowned Maj^tiu C'harla did unroll. III. And thoui,'h ihe noble spirits, who had framed That charter, lost, in their security, Awhile the rich fruits of their victory, At length the tiger to their hand they tamed — The regal recreant of Runnemede — From Dover to the borders of the Tweed Who ravaged with his Braban9ons the rezdm, Tntil the tide recoiled to o'erwhelm lliin. stained with many a foid and most atrocious deed. 1> I K E NOOK AND MOSS SIDE. 'Jj'.i IV. 'Tis in sucli hours of tri;il that the soul Or sinks o'crwhchncJ witii such tyrann\ , Or swims ai(;iinst the tide triumphantly W ith which the despot wouUl its powers control : This contrast which my verse would fain essay To your indulgence, critic, to portray, Or, gentle reader, suited to your mind, Therein if sueli a lesson you can lind. To prompt your ear to listen kindly to my lay. V. There fain the musing fancy would portray Again your tenants seated on your side, Fair Bassenthwaite, not more in blood allied Than brotherly atfection's kindliest swaj". Through all the triids of their changing fate. Through all the tempest? of the reeling state, Whose helm his himd held o'er the tossing wave, Alternate, as a tyrant and a slave. And, lacki7ig land, left many a land so desolate. 254 THK KANATIC 11 BC I \ I M K I). VI. There wlicii your hardy tenants could repair The wreck and ruin of that evil hour (Than wliicli, with ail its devastating power, The utmost swollen torrent that could tear, IJurst from your t^ianl's * bowels, wasting wide, Ne'er spread such terror o'er your ravaged side), Romantic region, there, to fancy's eye, Uprearcd upon each green declivity. Each dwelling then resumes its cultivated pride — VII. Save one, that still, amid its ruins, stood, In which an emblem may the fancy find 'Inhere of its hapless tenant's wreck of mind. Who there, the livelong day, was seen to brood, And cried, " The curse, the curse is on the land ! And who can dare oppose divine command ?" To which and to the tenant of Moss Side A neighb'ring farmhold, in Dike Nook, supplied So strong a contrast in its omicr's strenuous band- • Skiddaw. nrKK NOOK Asr) moss sidk. '2i)^i VIII. That, with sucli energy of mind and frame, The desolation, he did so deplore, Upon the cot of his paternal store, To all its charms antl blessings could reclaim. Proving, however dark the clouds may roll, 'Tis still within her efforts and control, Howe'er disastrous her sad station here, Here, in her trying sublunary sphere, To make her sun break forth upon the struggling soul. IX. Though the same sun may shine and cloud may lower. How differently upon each different head We see that sun and cloud their influence shed, And mark th' effects iu all their varied power : — O'er some how seems the direst tempest past, And, cheeringly, the sunshine comes at last — Whilst others rue some deeply-gnawing ruth. Into their souls eat with a cauker-tooth, That, like a snake or vampire, seems there stuck so fast. 2M') THK FANATIC RKCLAIMICI). X. This luonil which my verse would fain portray, Though not hy birth, two brotliers, who that name From friendship and their pledged connection clainj. In tiieir example haply may display: ^^ ho, in their pupilage, were doomed»to share No bigot's or a wily worldling's care, Who Superstition, in his priesthood's cloak His office nVr profaned, to fix thy yoke Upon the necks of those who could that burden bear. XI. Yet then, as now, as in each age and clime. For not performing, e'en, although in spite Of conscience, everj' penance and each rite, By whom considered as a heinous crime, The bigots of the worship of the land. No doubt, with infidelity would brand The pious pastoral care of Alured, \\"ho on his grateful flock such blessings shed. Yet could the intercession of some saints withstand. DIRE NOOK AND MOSS SIDE. 257 XII. Among thnac who, amid that mountain race, Were most distinguished for their zeal and toil Among the hardy tenants of the soil, Ethwald and Edric held the highest place j Who, in those days of countless broils and jars, Had fought together in the civil wars. And e'er, in the defence of tlic good cause, Wielded their weapons to maintain the laws. And in which tliey had borne some honourable scars. XIII. And to repair the ravage they had made, On which they felt their hearts so highly beat. When their marauders sounded their retreat As they took up the ploughshare and the spade, None at his manly toil more stoutly plied. With all his wonted zeal and patriot pride. At first than gallant Ethwald, to repair The desolation that he witness'd there, With smarting indignation, on his loved Moss Side. s "258 THE FANATIC RKCLAIMKD. XIV. Yet, still, the time, with every crime so fraught (When many a vagabond and wand'ring I'riar For game then beat about each bush and briar), In pilgrim garb a wayworn stranger brought, In evil hour, to Jltbwahl's domicile, Who, with such saintlike and benignant smile. Pleaded so well the cause that did engage liim on his foul, dissembled pilgrimage. Exulting like a fiend to see it work its guile : — XV. That, on the sophistry that he pronounced, So far in his success ^^ hen bolder grown, Th' Adveut'rer now assumed a higher tone, And Heaven's wrath upon their heads denounced If they supported not, with valiant band. The holy and infallible command To annul the charter (as audaciously The preacher held forth in their sanctuary). The curse, the curse, would fall on their devoted land ! DIKE NOOK AND M ( • <: S SIDE. 239 XVI. And oh ! lor carrying on his evil trade, Know, gentle reader, tlie disastrous time \\ as most prolific in each vice and crime, That could supply iiim with their fav'ring aid — Upon the deeds of tiiat disgraceful reign That on the nation cast the foulest stain, \Vhen prelate, legate, pope and potentate, Bound in their fetters the degraded state And through the kennel dragg'd it in their clanking chain, XVII. Though not himself in superstition sunk, Yet Mollo, in its deep hypocrisy, Aped all th' Ascetic's stern austerity. Discarding still the vestment of a monk. His views and powers not wishing to confine Within the narrow compass of that line. But that at will he might his task discharge, And in his callina: e'er be left at larsre To range and in a more extended sphere to shine. s2 260 THE K A N \ I I t U K r I. \ I M K n . XVIII. So, in tliat season of such dire iilarnis, Prepared alike in pulpit or on field, Mollo, for each contingency, to wield, Sharpcn'd his tongue and sword, for each his arms : Yet, where he found in vain his battlft-song He strove to sing o'er his obdurate throng, Awakening in their minds no false distrust. There not so simple to corrode like rust. In sway and arts he could not feel himself so strong. XIX. When each false preacher from his foaming lips Echoed his mandate,* in a passing cloud With which the pontiff for awhile could shroud The glory of that charter in echpsc, When INIollo his revolting flock upon (Then when the forces of pope- ridden John Swept through the country like a pestilence) Launched forth the thunder of his eloquence. Scarce could such noble flock mourn such a preacher gone. * The bull of Innocent III., annulling Magna Charta. D I K K NOOK AND MOSS SIDE. 26 1 XX. Amid the few who could his poison swallow To make the worse appear the better reason, To dash their sober judgments with his treason, How Mollo, ill whom all was false and hollow, Though with some touch of Belial eloquence, O'er Ethwald could possess such influence Where he so long had held so high a place, Might seem e''en strange unto its simple race — A paradox beyond the bcarcli of mortal sense : — XXI. How such an ignis fafnus thus possessed Him, to indulge in dreams so sad and wild As those with which his fancy he beguiled, And stifle every passion in his breast — To haunt the cave where he, the livelong day, Would mope, beneath its roof, the hours away — Or worn out, mood}', " throw himself to sleep * Upon the frightful border of some steep," Which may the visionary's hapless state portray. * Paraphrased from Collins's Ode to Fear. 262 THE FANATir UKCLAIMKD. XXII. " By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks,"" As in derision said his brain was turned, With mingled grief and rage by friends, who burned From such a cause to sec him play such pranks — Who, in his waking dreams, by holy rood Swore that he saw the pontiff, in which mood He paid him homage, bowing down, to boot, " To the lip-pressure of the slipper'd foot," O'er such chimeras as he e'er was seen to brood. • XXIII. No more, fair Basscnthwaite, he loved to pore. In shady dingle or on sunny glade. On murm'ring streamlet or on hoarse cascade. Or on its mirror, or embaying shore That skirts thy pastoral declivity — But e'er "the curse upon the land!" his cry Now wheresoe'er his wilder'd step he bends — " The curse ! the curse !" the cry his bosom rends, " The curse !" the burden ever of his rhapsody. DIKE NOOK AND MOSS SIDE. 2G3 XXIV. The knowledge, through some inlet of the soul, How superstition, gliding like a snake, The citadel can of the reason take, Can easily unravel and unroll The mysterj' — amid each blossom fair As glides that snake to shed its venom there — To heal the viper Superstition's bite Oft proves beyond the power of human might — " To stay the plague " indeed an effort of despair. XXV. Nor did his destiny, wliich dealt the blow So stunning, fall alone upon his head. But wider still within its range it spread, Checking aflfections in their purest glow Of love and friendship with their death-like chill, Curdling the blood, indeed, it could not spill. And in the stronger passion might impart, Methinks, more mercy to a broken heart. Plunging the dagger, deep and keen, at once to kill. 264 THE FANATIC RECLAIMED. XXVI. Nor was the evil to himself contincd, Which bigotry that canker-worm had wrought, But to another, too, its bale it brought And threaten d to destroy all peace of mind (In mourning o'er its fatal blighting pswer) In one, in whom bloomed beauty's loveliest flower, As with her anguish bent Edwina fair — The hopes she cherisird to dissolve in air — Th' anticipated joys of many a sunny hour. XXVIT. As to a cloister his wild dreams were given, Whence only comfort he could now receive On earth, his burden'd conscience to relieve. There falsely to devote his days to Heaven, Whom his delusion could there so enthrall Immured for life within its prison wall — So yawned the deep abyss, upon whose brink Now stood its victim in its gulf to sink, Whence hope seem'd vanish'd to avert her threatened fall :— DIKE NOOK AND MOSS SIDK. 265 XXVIII. As with her dire forebodings shook her frame, Beyond redemption, of his fix'd resolve, Which in his ruin woukl her self involve. As Edric with the fatal tidings came, How, e'en to scorn could Etliwald laugh and mock His counsel, as obdurate as a rock, With which as well he might hope to prevail — At which Edwina e'en to death as pale Turn'd — and in her fond brother's arms fell at the shock . 26(3 r M K K A N A T I r II K ( L A I M E D. SAINT BllIDGET'S. I. As oft was wisely in secluded nooks Performed tiie service of the sanctuary, So were the treasures of the sacristy Lodged more securely from the kites and rooks, And all the birds of sacrilege and prey That were abroad in such a lawless day — That well your prudent vot'rics might incline The riches and the relics of your shrine, Saint Bridget, so discreetly in their place to lay. SAINT UU I OGET's. 2(J7 II. But as the ways of man, alas ! can show, That, as their prowlers in the wild and wood. Do mostly range to scent and seek for food, So the invasion of a plund'ring foe, When unprotected in its lonely site. The treasure, when 'tis known, doth most invite, — So, blessed saint, ere this thou niight'st have found. With double lock and clasp of iron bound, Your chest of plate resist in vain tiu" robbers might. III. The mass was over and deep silence reigned Within, without the fane, upon the night, The fane, in which there glimmer'd still a light, Where, at his orisons, there still remained One, who, in painful penitence and prayer Seem'd bent in his devotions deeply there — So worn with penance and with fasting faint, So pale before the image of the saint, That he appeared the very picture of despair. 268 r H K F \ N \ T I C II K CLAIMED. IV. The slirino S;»iiit Bridget's and the votary (Who came, in supplication, there to bow Thus for its holy succour, on his vow To join in Jcdworth's cowled fraternity) Was hapless Ethwald, who was now 9o near, So lamentably closing his career In such deep misery and monastic gloom, That, on the following morn, to seal his doom. If he had strength, he straightway meant his course to steer. V. When lo ! as at his orisons still bent, Or reveries, in which his senses swim In stupor, all so worn and weak of limb, On such heart-sickening service, still intent. So softly up the dimly lighted aisle, \^'ith stealthy pace, what figure glides the while ? Approaches where continues still to kneel And o'er his destined victim lifts the steel ? What hold arrests the meditated, mm-derous guile ? SAINT Bridget's. 200 VI. The struggle for some moments might endure, For, in tlic dark the combatants, so brought Together, all, at random, stoutly fought. Till the time came his flight he should secure Against so many with a single hand, Who, furious, vainly breaking through the band, Him as the desperado saw surround, Oil reaching, when so fast the door he found, \V'ild with his rage he buried in his breast the brand. VII, The fane re-echoes with his curse again. For, 'twas the wily MoUo (whose dire fate In conflict with young Edric I relate) No priest but robber who that he might gain Alone the plate, the church, without the aid Of any of his gang, did thus invade — Who, as a prying vulture, for his prey Erst hover'd there till he was driv'n away. And paid at last due forfeit for his thieving trade. 270 rHE KANATIC RKCLAIMKD. VIII. On his expulsion, then the ruffian joined A gang, the very refuse of the force, Tiiat through the nation swept with baleful course And had so ravaged, murder' d, and purloined — A gang, the scou rings of the foreign tand. With which the tyrant for awhile the land Polluted, and from which a renegade To Edric Mollo's pKuurring [)Uin betrayed. For the reward, o'er-reaching thus his chieftain's hand. IX. As it remains yet for it to unfold, Good reader or kind critic, for my tale (As in your judgments you may fix its scale) How the effect upon our hero told — Our hero ! (as you startle at my aim To give a simple swain such sounding name) Who seem'd as if awaking from a trance Or nsion, or enchantment of romance. For whom I fain would still your gratulation claim. SAINT Bridget's. 'JJl X. As well as sympathy upon the pain That he endured, whilst the dire disease Upon his better faculties could seize And with its fever fire his wilderVl brain — Until, at length, from off his labouring breast The nightmare, with which it was so opprest (The heaviest incubus to which the earth Has in the monster bigotry giv'n birtli), He threw, as with its weight so rack\l and reft of rest. XI. And as the image of that sinful man Dwelt on his memory (o'er whom the tale In his last agonies would cast a veil), As at a loss no longer now to scan The motives, which could prompt that man to weave The web that could his senses so deceive, Like one from blindness who regains his eyes. With mingled shame, and sorrow, and surprize. So the converted yearn'd his conscience to relieve. 272 I H K FANATIC RECLAIMED. XII. Methinks, wc may not less lament the spell That binds, or less rejoice to see reclaimed, And to religion and his reason tamed. The wild fanatic than the infidel : — Nor could a penitent be proved more prone Than our's, with heart more anxious than his own To undergo what he must still endure. The sufferings to complete his mental cure, Remorseful for his aberration to atone. XTTI. There, as to peace raves out the roaring blast. Not with more beauty to reflect 'tis given In its clear mirror the fair face of Heaven, Than, after such a fit as he had past. To Ethwald in the calm may be assigned. The calm, that every wind and wave can bind, The semblance as, indeed, it well may take So of his own enchanting placid lake, All as that calm pervades his tranquillizing mind. S A I N T H R F I) G E t's. 273 XIV. So, to complete his cartlih' happiness, With all that love and friendship could supply, So ardent, to repair each broken tie. That Edric and his sister could express — And with the blessings of good Alured Upon the fond and faithful pair he wed In Ethwald and Edwina, from the throne Of bounty, much as human life can own, The pair then felt upon their heads those blessings shed. THE ABBOT AND THE KNIGHT, A VISION OF CONISTON WATER AND FUR NESS ABBEY. t2 PERSONS OF THE VISION. The Abbot. Sir Michael le Fleming. Gilbert, his Squire. De Morthing, Commander of the Abbot's Force. Johan, his Daughter. The Man of the Mountain. The Dame of the Diile. The action of the poem is supposed to take place in the reign of Stephen. THE ABBOT AND THE KXIGHT. THE LAKE. I. How sweetly does the smile of morning shed (As with the virgin bluslics of the rose So lovely in the midst their mirror glows) Its tints upon the glorious water head ! Upon whose marge, where it inverted hung, There like a fairy palace it upsprung. At such an hour, the graceful gothic hall,* That to its site thy spirit well may call. Enchantment, with thy magic mantle o'er it flung. • Coniston Hall, an ancient family seat of the Flemings of Rydal. 2/8 THE ABBOT AND THE KNIGHT. II. Yet to the spirit of that hull possest, To iiiiii, to JKiil him as its happy lord, Suy, such ejicliantineut did that hour afford? By whom, in contrast, were its charms confest, As marks full oft repining destiny — , As from the smiling scene he turns his eye, Beneath the influence of his evil star, To where the elements so fiercely war, The mountain of the man towers in its majesty. III. Sir Michael was a prosperous gentleman, But 'twixt his pleasures and all he did own There was a gulf of separation thrown — Sir Micliael was a prosperous gentleman, Whose lineage at the conquest e'en began, That through so many generations ran, Of a distinguish'd glorious starting race In their appointed season and their place, But much he feared he vainly sighed for fair Johan ! THE LAKE. 279 IV. As well we know " the garden was a wild "* (And as I, in the language of the lay, His lot may be permitted to portray) " And man the hermit sighed till woman smiled " — But at the faintest echo in his hall, Or of his honour or his country's call, Behold him, as he promptly buckles on His armour, to the fray with ardour gone, And like the fabled god of strength broke from his thrall. V. Sir Michael, as he from his couch this morn Arose, returning from the foray hot. In which he with his force had qucH'd the Scot, So little with the sally was he worn. That almost with regret he laid aside His sword and of his casque the clasp untied, Requiring such excitements to allay The strife that in his spirit held its sway, Th' internal conflict 'twixt his passion and his pride. * Pleasures of Hope. 1280 Tin, AllUOT AM) THE KNIGHT. VI. A^, reckless of the lovely land and flood (On which he would have gazed at other time ^^'ith transport when so favoured \\ith its clime). He raiii^atl his spacious hall in gloomy mood, To him his faithful scjuire, good Gilh^rt, came To ask what it would please Sir Knight to name 'i"o be his pastime — in coiimiaiuling tone, 'I'hough not less courteous, " to be left alone," Replied Le Fleming, " is the pleasure that I name. VII. A pause between the parties might ensue, 'Twixt greater courtiers as so oft rehearsed, I'oliteness, with thy lessons thou hast nursed — Ijut here no studied picture dost tliou view In one, good reader, who his duty knew, Not less, as he respectfully withdrew, Bound by affection than in office versed, To leave his master in his thoughts immersed, Of sweet and bitter fancv so the cud to chew. THE LAKK. 281 VIll. So, to repel th"' oppression of despair, As on the means lie then did meditate And strugi^ded to resist his threaten 'd fate, As if to commune with a spirit there All so secluded from the haunts of men. Upon the mountain oft he fix'd his ken, A voice, thence wafted like an oracle, May o'er his poet's fancy prompt the spell. The picture of his dwellini^ and its denizen. IX. Upon a bank and from the torrent's sweep That brawls beneath it, or, with swollen roar, Dashes its waves against the shelving shore, AVas well uplifted on its craggy steep A shelt'ring cavern in a deep ravine, Before which spread a pleasant plot of green, And o'er the turbid tide was thrown a stank, Where, waving with the weeping birch, the bank, And feathered with the mountain-ash, was gaily seen. 282 THK ABBOT AM) THK KNIGHT. X. A venerable man within the cave Saluted with the sunbeam o'er its height, As in its warmth indulging, with delight Sat listening to the murmur of the wave : There, as his rolling sightless orbs declare How grateful he inhales the fresh'ning air, He to the darken'd fountain whence it flows (The while within, a sun, his spirit glows) Raised for the rapture that he felt a fervent prayer. XI. THE BLIND MANS MATINS. Though quench'd the sun, though set the moon, On mine extinguisird earthly gaze. As vividly of nif:^ht and noon The charms the memory portrays. Creation, since thy curtain fell Upon me, ne'er to be withdrawn Till opens, with its trumpet's swell, Eternity's celestial dawn ! THE LAKK. 283 Pure, worthy of tlie brilliimt sphere (Where no disastrous change of fate Can make the glories disappear Of her unfading, blissful state) Within her tenement of clay Her vigils let my spirit keep, And, till her mortal lids decay. Invoke a dreaming infant's sleep ! XII. The name, so wrapt up in such mystery. Whence of the mountain that for him could form Through life so loved a shelter from the storm. The fancy with indulgence may supply — That he, who was the foundling of the cave. So soothed with the murmur of its wave, Who grew up so enamour'd of the grot To fix him gray and blind unto the spot. The old man thus his name unto the mountain * gave. * Conistoa Old Man. 2S4 r UK A u B o r a n d t h k k n i g h t. XIII. Who, with his staff, with which he felt his way, Did draw up, lialti ng upon tlio road-side, If aught he heard approaching, with no guide Upon his travels, j^et ne'er known to stray. Hut in his course e'er keeping the ri^ht road. The safeguard, thus unto his state bestowed. Might seem a power, an impulse of the mind, V^ouchsafed by Heaven to assist the blind. Him who securely ever quitted his abode. XIV. Nor merely as a fiction do I tell,* As only fancy woven in my verse. The pathway of the blind as I rehearse — On which you would not wonder that I dwell, If, reader, you bad seen the towering hill That he surmounted — bow the foaming Ghyll Of waters be could cross upon its stank, Or tread along its lofty shelving bank. And e'er reach and return in safety from the vill. * A circumstance I have transferred to another quarter, and re- lated from actual observation, of a blind man, an inhabitant of Mar- tindale, who has travelled weekly for years to Penrith, over his mountainous tract, without having met with any accident. T H E L A K E . 285 XV. There, where assembled at the church's door, At his desired approach rejoiced a throng, Whose voice he heard afar in greeting song ; Nor did our knight disdain among the poor To mingle with the motley company, And from his confessor so anxiously Wait for the comfort that he could impart Unto the most depraved or grief-struck heart. Of ghostly counsel and exalted piety. XVI. It was by all confest for many a day. On his return from the confessional, Upon that eve, unto his gladden'd hall. The knight had not been known to look so gay, There where in whom such joy it did inspire. There where his faithful, ever merry squire Was prompt to forward to the seneschal The summons for a splendid festival, To gather guests, retainers, and the minstrel quire. 28C r H K A iJ nor a n n i ii k km r. ii t. XVII. Mc;in\vliilc, the thronjr about the sanctuary Had now dispcrs'd, where so unwelcome canu' Among them a mysterious busy dame, Who, moving to and fro, so restlessly. Kept mutt'ring, wrapt up in her hoofl and cloak, Her prayers with foul execrations broke, And linger'd to the witching time of night, To make the churchyard yawn unto their sight. To them who stay'd to hear the horrid words she spoke. XVIII. As in that cliurch her cunning did appear. Of which she knew the vaults and secret doors, And, up the chancel crawling on all fours, Applied unto the other side her ear, Crouching conceal'd, to the confessional When the blind man the gallant knight did call, And when she learnt all that she wish'd to know, Her regress thence, I ween, was not too slow — She shly slunk away, like sin, unseen by all. Til K LA K i:. 287 XIX. No longer whcro the trav'ller of the Dale * Beholds it gloomed with that funereal tree, Whence it derives its etymology, 15ut deck'd now w ilii such varied charms can hail, Beneath an arch and througli an avenue, Encompass'd, too, with densest groves of yew, Unto her cottage that mysterious crone, Back to her covert, like a vampire, flown, llcturnM to brood upon the mischiefs she did brew. XX. Where she contrived to keep herself alive, Exulting in her ignominious sway. As many, to this day, keep up the play. And various gipsy fortune-tellers thrive, Who, dealing in false, foulest prophecies. In black and white and parti- colour'd lies. Sowing dissension between man and man, And church and state their operations plan Upon the wreck and ruin of the weal to rise. • Yewdale. ^HS llIK AUllOT AND I 1 1 K h M (. H f. XXI. Sufficient hnd the hag, by vice so nurst, Hciiril on hi.r trip unto the sanctuary, ^^'^hicll she achieved w ith s-ich subtlety, To prompt her to sonic hcllisli deed accurst — For whicli a charm, tlien, M'ith her favourite slips Of yew , all " sliver'd in the moon's eclipse," She, with a " witch's mummy in aw and gulf," With ferret's eyes, with tooth and breath of wolf, Then mutter'd, like Queen Hecate, with her livid lips. XXII. As seeming saints and sinners often shine In their vocation, so this child of vice Bethought her of the usual artifice, Who could so easily such parts combine : — As Nature had bestowed upon the crone The gruffest, growling, croaking, scrannel tone, It could not much, I ween, the dame perplex In her endeavour to disguise her sex, Whose bristles on her chin were full three inches grown. THK LAKE. 2S0 XXIII. So, like a palmer for her pilgrimage Equipped, across the most scquester'd dells And over the most craggy tow'ring fells, She started from her gloomy hermitage — Then Lever's and Low Water's lofty lakes (Whence like their rush-grass the descent so shakes The hardy mountaineer) she dauntless scales. Till, Furness, entVing thus thy glen she hails, Through which her way the heldam to the Abbey takes. XXIV. THE WITCH'S WELCOME TO BEKANGS-GILL, OR, THE GLEN OF DEADLY NIGHTSHADE. O welcome, welcome, Bekangs-gill, So rankly in whose shade Still thrives the plant that could enchant Me to my charming trade ! u 290 TIIK A13BOT AND THE KNIGHT. With grateful voice let me rejoice To hciil thy glen once more, \Vhence for the sick mine art can pick Hemlock and hellebore ! The poison tree has charms for Ine, Well as the poison plant, My yewen wand that at command Can foe and fiend enchant : — While nightshade and while night-shrieks tell How, with convvilsivc breath, With pangs of hell my patients swell, Whom I do drun to death ! 3 Then welcome, welcome, Bekangs-gill, So rankly in whose shade Still thrives the plant that could enchant Me to my charming trade ! TH K A B HKY. 291 THE ABBEY. I. There where the " wiistc of all-devouring years " So marks its ravage in the ruined pile, There, to the musing fancy's view, the while. Fresh and complete the stately structure rears Its fabric, as when full upon it shone His favour, when its founder gained the throne :— So, with his flock or stock from Normandy,* Of which he formed this cowled colony. Fame speaks of Stephen, Earl of IMortiUgn and Bou- logne. * " It was peopled from the monastery of Savigny, in Normandy, and dedicated to St. Mary. In ancient writings it is styled SL Mary's of Furness." — West's Guide. u2 292 THE ABBOT AND TMK KNIGHT. II. But Stcplicirs was a reign of turbulence, So, to prevent surprize, a beacon tower ♦ (To which tlie door remains unto tiiis hour) Was raij-ed on a commanding eminence : — In varied prospect to their charm'd survey, There, where it overlooks the beauteous bay,-|- There, as, emerging from tlie cloister's gloom, To soothe or sadden their disastrous doom. The brothers, to indulge an hour of rapture, stray. HI. To snatch thence of its glories, in that hour. Thence of the world, with a regretful sigh, They had renounced, with transient ecstacy, A glance of rapture round that beacon tower. Where, ever and anon, an anxious eye Turn'd with their abbot that fraternity, \Vhat time with fire and sword King David came From Scotland to assert his niece's claim. The rightful h iress to fair England's sovereignty. • " To prevent surprise, and call in assistance, a beacon was placed on the crown of an eminence that rises immediately from the abbey, and is seen over all Low Furness. The door leading to the beacon is still remaining in the inclosure wall, on the eastern side."— /f es/'s Guide. t Morecambe bay. THE ABBEY. 293 IV. Now, when the abbey bell for vespers toli'd, The beldam, who the livelong day had stray'd And through the glen her fell eolleetion made, Stood, like the fabled prophetess * of old, As of a spirit whence her voice then came, As at her bidding burst into a flame The beacon, like the prophetess's torch, Through the expanded portals ot the porcii, To the astounded monks and abbot to proclaim : — V. " To baflfle now the serpent -f- of its prey, Arising, like the eagle on the wing, And, pouncing on it, check its triumphing, Quick, my lord abbot, your whole force array !" Then, as a phantom vanish'd from the door She who the habit of a palmer wore. Amazement seiz'd on all within the pile, Suspended as its service paused the while, On each there, like a statue, chain'd unto the floor. ♦ Cassandra. f " The crest of the Flemings is a serpent nowed, with a garland of olives and vines in its mouth ; all proper. Motto, underneath — Pax, Copia, Sapientia ; all relating to the crest, as peace to the olive branches, plenty to the vine, and wisdom to the serpent." — Burns' fFestmor eland. 294 THE ABBOT AND THE KNIGHT. VI. Tlicn, from the beacon as the tidings flew For them to meet witli mortal enemies, Soon as, in the confusion and surprise. The serpent banner all advanced to view, To baffle then the beldam's fell intent, A flag of truce before the troops was sent. Borne by the faithful Gilbert, to demand At Dalton for a passport for the band. Where by Le Fleming as a hostage he was sent. VII. De iMorthing, who before the castle gate Stood with his bowmen and his bylmen bold, Could never as an hostage in his hold Detain one who could so confide his fate, But, granting all the parley did require, Sent to his master back his faithful squire : — When, as the fair Johan, within the tower. Saw all that pass'd beneath her in her bower. It might some hope inspire of her relenting sire. THE ABHEY. 295 VIII. Who to tlic abbot owed his fealty, ' Devoted to his service with due zeal, Yet for Le Fleming could not fail to feci High admiration of his gallantrj' : The while the prelate, with his wide domain, O'er which he held such a despotic reign, Dared not, e'en with his wounded pride, withstand The title there to own of Michael-land, The holy fathers and his sovereign's will constrain. IX. So, on the smould'ring embers of a war And without blazing into mortal strife, Disturbing oft the peaceful course of life, 'Twixt powers of all degrees exists a jar — So, without absolute hostility, Between them still a rankling jealousy Prevailed, which now, in his own despite, Unto the abbot came the generous knight To strive to quell with profess'd league of amity. 296 THK ABHOT AND THE KNIGHT. X. Against the conunou foe tliat they should join Tlicir hand-, to wliich tiie cdoistcr's potentate. On due deliberation and debate, Did feel so much his policy incline, That he consenttui : — to the brilliant Rglit WhtMi with l)i' Morthiny; niarclied the gallant knight, To share the triunij)h * at North AUerton, Where, on the battle of the standard won The flower of their chivalry dij^played their might. XI. Nor ever, Furness, a more joyous day Dawned on thy stately consecrated pile Than then, when my lord abb(jt hailed the while The laurelled league returning from the fray, — Nor ever, Dalton, a more joyous day Dawned than when, with its most auspicious ray. It shone, at length, on thy commanding tower, In which the lovely lady, in her bower, With grateful beating heart, owned its propitious sway • See the fourth note, p. 448. THE ABBEY. 297 XII. Nor, Coniston, eVr a more joyous clay Dawned on thee than when lie performed the rite * Of union 'twixt the lady and her knight, Whose counsel to their bliss had led tlie way On which its happy course the league began : Thus, wiiere he sigiied no longer for Johan, And ranged his spacious hall in gloomy mood, All reckless of the lovely land and flood, His mission sent him back a prosperous gentleman. There, M'here the fancy thro' each roofless aisle And chapel, cell, and cloister, musing, strays, Upon their mould'ring pride of other days, There, where Sir Michael to the stately pile Did, in the records of its history. Bequeath his body with a legacy f — Lo ! there yon dark, dank, weed-incumber'd Stone Lies on its floor, with grass so overgrown, So like a fragment of his tomb to fantasy. ♦ The Man of the Mountain. + See the first note, p. 446. 298 THE A n 11 OT AN I) THE K N I G H T. Nor in time's veiieriiblo garb arriiyod Of moss and ivy was his Hall loss graced, I'ntil the spojlrr's Vandal hand defaced And in the dust its mangled carcase laid, For ages where it stood, its lake beside, So richly mai.lled in its ruined pride- In rising, so antii-i[)ate their fall, Alas! each stately abbey, tower and hall, So doomed, with such a dire disaster to betide ! As vanish all the phantoms of my brain. The visionary tenant of the cave So soothed with the murmur of its wave, Ciood reader, in my humble parting strain, As on the spot, on which my Beldam drew Her last breath, fancy rears her baleful yew,* As a memorial of her baffled spite, 1 trust, that, with some passing pleasure slight, As well as profit, fades my vision from your view. • The noted yew tree in Coniston. THE BlUTON, SAXON, AXD THE DANE, A VISION OP GRASMERE, THIRLMERE, AND RYDAL. « PERSONS OF THE VISfON. Brithnod, the Briton. Ethelfleda, his Wife. Edith,] . . Vthei Hilda,) ir Daughters. Alwyn, the Saxon. Halfdene, the Dane. Valdemar, a Scalder. The action of the poem is supposed to take place in the reign of Alfred. THE BRITOX, SAXON, AND TUE DANE. GRASMERE. I. Lo ! where, upon the mountain's cloven crest, The roaring tempest with such fury raves, The foxes find a shelter in their caves. There may the lion and the lamb, at rest. Portray the emblem of the happy hour That owns the blessings of great Alfred's power. That in the " vale of peace " so sweetly sheds Its influence, as the calm of evening spreads Around Saint Oswald's * fane and Alwyn's islet tower. f * " The church is dedicated to St. Oswald, as is supposed, from a well, called St. Oswald's, near unto the church." — Bums' Westmore- land. t Placed, by poetical license, on the island in Grasmere Lake. 302 rilK HRITON, SAXON, AND THE DANE. II. Yet Nature, in those troublous times of old, However lovely, ne'er to peace could chiirm One bosom to divest it of alarm : As stood, assuming a demeanour bold, With glittering helm and corselet, lance and shield, Prepared ever for the siege or field, The fabled Asgard's famous warrior queen — So frowned the fortress in this trancjuil scene, Whence valour often rush\l his weapons dire to wield. TIT. Where to the noble Saxon that fair eve (On his devotions in the sanctuary He offered up with heartfelt fervency) The brightest pledge of earthly bliss might weave, That eve, that might, indeed, a charm impart, As richly as it glowed, unto his heart, With all the tints with which it deck'd the sky, W^ith hues as fair to gild his destiny, Preparing on the morn upon his quest to start : — GRASMKKE. 303 IV. Upon the tusky monsters tluit infest It, of their ravages the reuhn to clear, To rival Richard Gilpin ■■'- of Kentmerc ; \\'hen, with his gallant followers in that quest, Too, as M ilh bow and spear, with heart and hand, The noble Halfdene with his friendly band Of Danes from Thirlinere oft so blithely joined — (A league but seldom in those days combined 'Tween them whose contests curst the widely wasted land.) V. With other trophies, as with tusks and horns, To decorate their stately gothic halls (Not wholly for the kennels and the stalls As other joys the modern sportsman scorns). With winning the possession of each hand So fair, and with diffusing through the land, (O'er which they held their temper'd feudal sway) The blessings, as approached their nuptial day, The union of such ardent spirits might command. * A famous wild boar-killer in the time of King John. — See Burns' fVestmor eland, p. 136. 304 THE BRITON, SAXON, AND THE DANE. VI. For, 'twixt these chiefs to strengthen still the tie, Betrothed so in each other joys to share, To beauteous Edith and to Hilda fair, No pledge more welcome could their hearts supply Of sweet enduring peace and amity. Afforded by a generous enemy. By one, who, as they owned, might, in his place, Deep feel the iron from their iron race Enter into his soul. So, irresistibly, VII. Such for his daughters could not fail to plead To Brithnod with success, as joyfully Proclaimed by Alwyn to his company — Who, as they with the magic of the mead Did crown and quaff th' exhilarating bowl. Though Scandinavians, yet could still control Its lawless sway — thus able to enjoy, Without its most degrading, base alloy. The feast, as thus their song proclaimed with flow of soul. GRASMERE. 305 VIII. SONG OF THE EMANCIPATED SAXON. Sage were thy words, thou aged Thane, Thnt caird on some one to explain Man's transient transit upon earth, Thou liken 'd, where, with blazing hearth, Across the hall the sparrow flies, Driv'n there by the inclement skies. Where with the warmth awhile it glows. Unknown there whence it comes and goes ! Such was the simple counsel given To lighten the blest way to Heaven, That to the effort braced the arm Of the bold priest to break the charm Of superstition with his spear — When grove and temple disappear. Wrapt by their worshippers in fire. Defying the foul Woden's ire ! 306 THE BRITON, SAXON, AND THE DANE. THIRLMEEE. I. The region which his fancy next would hail, That region with a title he would greet As sweet as " savage," for its wild retreat, So, Wythburn, would salute thy rocky dale : Nor further of its chieftain in his strain Would speak at present, of the royal Dane,* Who, horror-stricken at his blood-stained line, Prevailed to bow before the holy sign On all save one of his baptized heathen train. * Halfdene, a name well known in the annals of our isle for the ferocity of its bearer. THIRLMERE. 307 II. There is a crag,* that, from the symbol, bears, Upon their banner of such wide spread fame, So dear to Norsemen, its exciting name. To which the unconverted oft repairs : There Valdcmar, the Scald, did oft reveal The creed which 'gainst the cross his breast could steel- There as the raven with her croak repeats The song, with which her ear his fancy greets. Cling to his " strange and savage faith '' with bigot zeal. III. THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS. AN ODE.f O, when the fated hour arrives on earth, That's destined to such horrors to give birth. What sufferings in this sublunary sphere, What sorrows in this world of woe appear ! As shall, in most disastrous hour. Be felt the evil spirit's power To rule this world of woe — * Raven Crag. t For an elucidation of this ode, the reader is referred to Mallet's ' ' Northern Antiquities." 308 THE BRITON, SAXON, AND THE DANE. With no indulgent gleams What time the sun withdraws his beams, And three long winters chill its lap with snow ! IV. Three more, with endless frost, and snow, and hail, Whirlwinds and storms, the ravaged globe assail, Whilst every pest and curse of life, Dire war and fierce domestic strife, Stalk o'er its surface and its taint impart To each corrupted, fest'ring human heart ! V. Well may the wonder-working power Of fancy, in that awful hour. So sicken 'd at the scene, portray Fenris * to seize the orb of day And Jormungandus f his enormous bulk unroll ! The while he puts the raging ocean Into such wild commotion. To overflow the globe from pole to pole, * A huge wolf. f An enormous sea serpent. r H I R L M E R K . 309 Rymer, the leader of the host Of the dread genii of the frost. Their pilot o'er the troubled deep, Lo ! in his deadly bark doth sweep, To battle now against the gods — Through all its works Creation nods, As from his prison bursts amain Tremendous Lok to join the giant train ! VI. Such was the strange and savage faith, indeed. That prompted the enthusiast, on his path Upon the wild, to brare the tempest's wrath, And with such fervour cling unto his creed : — And never did its vot'ry own its power More deeply than when, now, in sultry hour,^ At intervals burst forth a howling wind, To silence which a sullen calm could bind. As heavily the shades of night began to lower. 310 THE BRITON, SAXON, AND THE DANE. VII. When lo ! with such a desohiting rout (But not until, full charged, the phantom rends Th' enormous murky cloud whence lie descends), The awful spirit of the water spout O'ertakes him, where its insulated rock Preserves him from the roaring torrent's shock, That, like a deluge, spreading in its course, Sweeps all before it with its whelming force, Each dwelling, tree and stone, each trav'ller, herd and flock : — VIII. O'ertakes him where he so securely braves, As Fancy, in the flashes, rears his form Strong as a tower to the battering storm, 'Gainst which the raging tempest vainly raves — O'ertakes him, with its memory the while So cherish'd, where its charms can so beguile (U here oft his fancy wings its rapt'rous flight And with its glories fills his awe-struck sight). As when he sojourned in the Solitary Isle.* * Iceland. THIRLMERE. 311 IX. Rapt ill the region, where the Edda flowed In such a torrent of poetic fire, His highest kindled fancy to inspire. Well might it, in that awful hour, have glowed, Roaming in all that region of romance ! Weil might his spirit see, in heav'nly trance. Each planet into conflagration hurl'd And the fair renovation of the world. Revealed to the Scaldcr's frenzied, rolling glance ! X. Hence, more in sorrow than in anger, left They to his awful walks upon the wild Their broken idol's closer clinging child. Till, in his w^anderings, of his reason reft. The poor fanatic, in his frenzy, led, His steps to tiie appointed station sped Upon the moor, unto the pass of fame, Prophetic there his tidings to proclaim, To breathe his curse on those who from their altars fled. 312 THE BRITON, SAXON, AND THE DANE. XI. There is a spirit that my bosom sways, The spirit so romantic and sublime Of awful solitude, whene'er I climb The famed and long ascent of Dunmail Raise — That with the deeds, the forms of other days, Too throngs it, mustering in the morning haze. For war or for the chase in olden time — That prompts me to record it in my rhyme. Each stirring picture Fancy to my view portrays. XII. Right gladly, reader, here my verse can tell Of those I see now gather on that hill, Like Alexander or like Ceesar there to spill No human blood, or with intent more fell Than to distain their weapons with the gore Of ravenous wolf and desolating boar. As in pursuance of the tribute * famed Which erst the monarch through the realm proclaimed, Methinks, one of the wisest in the days of yore. * King Edgar's tribute of wolves' heads. in III LMER E. 313 XIII. Thus when had met this gallant company (The which the fancy from their several dales Ascending its renowned summit hails), As I have said, upon this boundary, With well-trained hounds, with all the hunting gear Of bow of stoutest yew and ashen spear, The spirit of such generous allies Was all too noble in their enterprize. For jealousy to taint their emulous career. XIV. Then, ere the ancient wall, that marks that bound (There where the Barrow's battle-raising spell Calls on each awe-struck traveller to dwell), Had risen, crossing that more ancient mound. All in the heavy, quiet, misty gloom Of the tempestuous worn-out night, did loom One by the fated spot, whose uraber'd form. Like their once idolized Thor of the storm. Came thus to prophesy each monarch's direful doom. 314 THE BRITON, SAXON, AND T II K DANE. XV. THE DOOM OP THE KINGS AT DUNMAIL RAISE. THE SCALDER'S PROPHECY. Behold, ye apostates, behold to your shame (Who have proved so degenerate, so unworthy the name Of Norsemen) the picture my prescience portrays, To heap up the karn of the slain on the Raise ! The karn, that shall mark the defeat and disgrace Of your boasting, baptized, and recreant race ! When Dunniail, of this realm, to the contest shall bring The dire-woven doom of each island king, For which the crown'd Cumbrian, on his finishing rout, Shall see his son's eyes with hot iron put out ! When Malcolm, the Scot, so abject and prone, Shall bend for his seat at the conqueror's throne. When Edmund, the Saxon, by the poniard shall fall Of Leolf, the robber, in his high feasting hall— THIRL ME RE. 315 When the proud Leoliii, the Briton, shiiU heat To his mountains so gladly his rapid retreat — And tlie Dane and the Saxon, at one mortal hlow, Rue the wide ranging shafts of the dread Norman bow ! To heap up the karn of the slain on the Raise, The picture, ye Norsemen, my prescience portrays, (Who have proved so degenerate, so unworthy the name) Behold then, apostates, behold to your shame ! XVI. So, when the seer his tale prophetic told, Alternate, as the struggling beam arrayed Him, as he came to view through light and shade. He, gradually, upon the misty wold. Around him as the curling vapours roll'd (As he, who tends his flock without a fold There, in his shaggy mantle or his plaid. Seems in the overwhelming cloud to fade), Evanished, whom no mortal did again behold. 3IG THK BRITON, SAXON, AM) THE DANE. XVII. So might the fancy prompt tlie poet's dream — So " weave, with hloody hands," unto his sight The " tissue " of events upon that fight — So, crossing like an apparition, seem. The wanderings of the Scalder that revealed Unto his ear the deeds by history sealed — For superstition to o'ertake her child With some disastrous fate upon the wild. Or the lorn wretch to dreadful self-destruction yield ! XVIII. As thus he, with such a denouncing strain, Did often cross them in their path, a seer, To make them, awe-struck, pause in their career, The fearful Saxon and misgiving Dane, E'en, though no longer heathen, for the fate Which their forsaken worship might await. Might own some tremblings for their destiny. Upon their misconceived apostasy. Like transient clouds, before their sun, to dissipate. TFIIRLMERE. 31/ XIX. Like those dispersing oft" the sliiver'd rocks. Which as they scale to rouse a beast more gaunt, Thence to dislodge him from his savage haunt, That since has form'd a " fortress for the fox," The sight, with which those caverns could appal, To them then no handwriting on the wall Required, to declare the awful doom Of one no mortal could reclaim — of whom No human effort could avert the threaten'd fall. XX. Thence (where his rent and bloody mantle told, IFith his harp's chords half gnaived, the horrid tale, Proclaiming how the wolf can there prevail ^s elseivhere when his prey gets in his hold) The Hunters, Helm Crag (where upon thy wild The course, wild Woden, of thy wayward child So closed — the prophet Scalder of the Karn) Through Easedale, by its fair engulphed Tarn, Through Grasmere's and through Rydal's beauteous vales defiled. 318 TllK BRITON, SAXON, AND I UK DANE. RYD AL. I. There erst his worth to Brithnod may bequeath (Who o'er the Celt and Goth could so prevail Still to maintain his sway o'er Rowthey dale)* The noble Fleming's emblematic wreath — With wisdom-f- peace and plenty to entwine, There, with two lovely scions of his line — The others from their venerable tree Were riven by the storms of destiny. Of which the ravaged land deplored the rage malign. • " Rydal, Sir Daniel Fleming supposes to be a contraction of Bowthey-dale, from the river of that name running down there." — Burns' Westmoreland. t See the note to the Abbot and the Knight, page 293. UYDAL. 319 II. Where though he felt, he bowed not to, the stroke That of two gallant sons did seal the doom, Cut off in battle in their youth's fair bloom, But, all unshaken as the gnarled oak That decks thee, Rydal, with its towering pride, He stood, unblasted — still the shock defied — Blest with a virtuous wife and offspring fair, In whom relenting Heaven, to repair The rent its will had made, such solace had supplied. III. With Ethelfeda so he wends to share. In the surviving pledges of their love, The blessed consolation from above Vouchsafed them, as they join in fervent prayer For the departed, where they raise a tomb — A scene so suited, in funereal gloom. To prompt them, Rydal, by thy murm'ring fall. Upon the spirits in its shades to call Of their beloved, to cheer as well as soothe their doom. 320 THB BRITON, SAXON, AND THE DANK. IV. As to tlieir ken, hailing the brightening dawn Of social joys, so charming did appear That on the lovely gleams of Windermere, In vista from their fair expanding lawn — There, in the regions with their woes so rife. His own might seem a patriarchal life (Though with his dame he might awhile refrain From trusting the protection of a Dane Or Saxon), to arrest the course of mortal strife : — V. There, with the tent now'pitch'd upon that glade. With targets fix'd for feats iji archery. Assembled such a gallant company — And there, beyond those who their skill displayed, The white-armed Edith in her Hilda's aim Had for the prize the only rival claim — To crown, as they return now with their spoils, Their valiant lovers' anxious hopes and toils. Then, in their union, with the meed of bliss and fame. THEODORE AND DOROTHEA. A VISION OP SAINT BEES AND ENNERDALE. PERSONS OF THE VISION. The Prior. Theodore, a Novice of the Priory. Sir John de Bonvil. Dorothea, his Niece. The action of the poem is supposed to take place in the reign of Henry VII. THEODORE Al^D DOROTHEA. PART THE FIRST. SAINT BEES. I. There, where so sternly o'er the surging seas Uplifts the promontory of Saint Bees Its darkly frowning brow and towering head, Lo ! from its base a halcyon calm is spread ! Round which the M'heeling sea- fowl wailings made, Disturb'd by those who ply their " dreadful trade In gath'ring samphire," in the silvery haze That wraps th' autumnal sun's dimm'd struggling rays. That lights the wrecker's ever-Avatchful eye With sanguine, savage gleams of ecstasy. y2 324 THEODORE AND DOROTHEA. II. Let the enraptured voyager beware Of that deceitful liour so calm, so fair. To the horizon as the sun draws near, Sinking into the thickening atmosphere. As blacker and more ruffled heaves the deep, In stronger gusts as o'er its bosom sweep The breezes, 'neath the welkin's tempest-scowl ! Let those, who would from all beneath a cowl To heav'nly-kindled acts withhold all claim, Saint Bega, there behold the beacon-flame. With which that height celestial charity Illumined, when thy cloistered votary To death did oft expose his dauntless form, And oft so rescued from the raging storm ! Let such declare who tread with pilgrim feet How they in heart the Great Saint Bernard greet ! III. They watched that night till in the glim m 'ring dark Approaching they descried a little bark. SAINT BEES. 325 That band, there phiced, in Christian charity, Upon that headland by the priory — And when they kenn'd the vent'rous bark that neared The point, as with such skill and courage steered. Which as the rising of each mountain-wave So, foaming, threaten 'd with a watery grave, Descending quickly from the beacon tower To give all the assistance in their power, They launch upon that awful sea afloat, That gallant band, their life-preserving boat. IV. Against the wind and tide they strive in vain The hapless object of their quest to gain. Till in the crisis fresher blows the gale, Alas ! with fatal fury to prevail Upon the bark, upon the billows tost, With sail all shivered and wdth rudder lost, Until, upon an insulated rock, On which a hapless woman by the shock 326 THEODORE AND DOROTHEA. Was hurl'd, it struck with dreadful crash of prore, And drifted onward till it reacli'd the shore, Which, from the baffled fury of the main, Lo ! all the rest aboard in safety gain. V. Yet one, amid the rescued of the wreck (Who, as lie saw the woman from the deck Swept, his despair proclaimed in accents wild. Calling upon his dear adopted child), Upon the margin of the fatal flood, At his bereavement, horror-stricken, stood — As from the rocky shoal on which she lay, To which the life boat vainly strove to steer its way, Through the wild waves one of the gallant band Bore with a rope the sufferer to the strand, Where, as the ghastly wound upon her breast The anguish of her tortured frame exprest, She seemed to turn, with a convulsive sigh, With gratitude, in speechless agony. Upon the dauntless youth her glazing look — and die. SAINT BBBS. 32/ VI. Then, as they deem, the victim of the storm They bear the last sad office to perform. Though, nature, so exhausted with the strife, The sufferer yet showed the signs of life Far from extinct — with its rekindling flame. Which, animating her reviving frame, Beneath the sacred shelt'ring roof could bless And crown such noble efforts with success. VII. I need not on the happy moments dwell Which might his sympathizing bosom swell. The joyful tidings when blest Theodore, Wlio rescued her, unto De Bonvil bore — Such was the name of him in accents wild Who caird upon his dear adopted child, Her foster father and a gallant knight, Whose heart might yearn such action to requite. •s. VIII. Nor need I on the flood of transport dwell With gratitude that might the bosom swell 328 THEODORE AND DOROTHEA. Of her, pale at the altar as she knelt, ■^Fhat into tears her lovely looks might melt, Or, as from offering to the power divine Their fervent praise she turn'd them from the shrine, Attempt to paint the influence of the spell, Prompted hy Heaven, as their glances fell On the enraptured youth their rays to pour, And penetrate his heart's delighted core — Nor need I on the racking moments dwell When Theodore, retiring to his cell, To Dorothea and De Bonvil bade farewell. IX. There are, whose cold and indurated hearts. To which nor time nor circumstance imparts Their influence, to soften or control The frozen iron tenjper of the soul, Seem, like the pole, immutably incased In the relentless region they were placed — Or, like an iceberg, floating fearfully To all it meets with on its troubled sea, SAINT BEES. 3*29 Where it was hurl'd with such tremendous force, Rent by the tempest, holds its threut'iiing course. Each bosom at its dire approach to thrill With terror, like its own appalling chill. X. There are, whose spirits in their icy chains Although so long their destiny detains, If they but view the faintest gleam illume The envious night that veils their hapless doom — If, Nature, with thy heav'nly-kindling beam, Breaks on their view that joy-diffusing gleam, Lo ! as their brightening day doth then begin, How deeply do thej- cherish then within The charm increasing with its purest glow. Its emblem in its blest effects to show, Until, dispersing all those envious shades, That charm all the enlighten'd mind pervades ! XI. This contrast to your fancy to portray. Good reader, fain my efforts would essay, 330 THKODORK WD DOROTHEA. Before the prior as ilie novice stood, This of so gentle, that so stem a mood. XII. Against the weapons, priestly craft would wield, As Faith and Reason could oppose a shield. Thus, with some strong misgivings in liis soul, The bigot then attempted to control : — " Know, that, on your achieving your emprise. My son, the sainted Bega seem'd to rise Before me in a vision, who the seas Becalmed in her voyage to Saint Bees, And, in that vision, with her guardian form Deign'd to illumine that dire raging storm, In which a fellow-creature from the wave With heav'nly-prompted spirit thou didst save — Know that she deign'd, in mercy, to disclose With uU its roaring flames and racking woes;, With the unutterable agonies. Re-echoed with the fiend's exulting cries. The pit where writhed each sacrilegious Dane That to destruction doomed her hallowed fane ; SAINT BEES. 331 Which from its embers in its liirht divine As it arose, the foundress of the shrine Tlicre pkiced tlice, Theodore, by William de Mes- chincs." 332 THEODORE AND DOROTHEA. TUKODOUM AND DOROTHEA. PA RT THE SECOND. ENNERDALE. I. Enchanting Elicn ! to thy parent lake Fain would my musing fancy now betake And view thee, Nature, in no wondrous dream, The same, as when De Bonvil by thy stream Bore to his home, in which he safely lay His dear one rescued from the ocean spray — There where, unshaken, still the Steeple * stands, The Pillar * towers, while those by human hands With so much toil and cost and pains upreared. Have long been overthrown and disappeared. » Two of the highest mountains of this region. E N N E R I) A L E. 333 IT. Though in the field and lists well known his fame And in the world oft mixing with his dame, Yet, with the valorous and illustrious race Of Senhouse and of Multons in the chase As oft he joined, tlic knight was happier far In waging all the various sylvan war : Whose heart with every kind affection heat, With sympathy and charity replete, And, though in the possession of his Jane With all the heart in mutual love could gain, Yet, childless, with his partner he bewailed Their lot that in a living pledge so failed. III. So, on th' inscrutable decrees of Heaven, To meditation might his soul be given, Upon the contrast offerM to his mind In the bereavement of his fellow-kind, Of his own brother, who unto his care Bequeathed his orphan, Dorothea fair. 3;m THEODORE A N I) I) O R OT II K A. In whom relenting Heaven, in its grace, His childless state with Jane seem'd to efface — Nor for that orphan coultl he plead in vain To place her 'neath the tender care of Jane, Although the generous action might impart A pang unto the yearnings of his Ifeart, And, with such mingled pleasure and distress, To Heaven, that withheld its will to bless Her with a mother's name, his venial grief express. IV. And, now, in mutual kindliness exprcst, The generous feelings reigning in each breast, As Time, in that romantic region wild. Fulfils its promise in the blooming child. Began the fost'ring faithful loving pair To taste the fruits of their parental care — And in the bosoms, which produced such fruits, Affection could not fail the deepest roots To take towards each other, in the love It of a parent and a daughter wove. E N N K R n A L K . 335 V. And, further, with such countless perils rife, The chances and the changes of this life, The hand of Heaven, in the trying hour. Then strongly mark'd its mitigating power On him, and, in its heartfelt mercy, broke The pangs that followed the inflicted stroke In her affection, in his widowed state With Dorothea left less desolate — Whose hopes, when sky and ocean seem'd to smile In an excursion, Mona, to thine Isle, So brightly, at their outset, on that rock Were almost wreck'd with such a fatal shock. Whose heart, with keener threatened anguish cleft, A second time was nearly childless left. VI. But with that child, the soother of his woes. What did her future destiny disclose ? And could the Heaven-sent gallant arm, that bore And saved her, to herself the maid restore? .'3^S() IMKODORE AND DOIIOTUKA. With her ddivcrrr miN Mi 11 DAL K. 339 My sire, if unsuccessful here I ciime To plead the influence of as pure a flame, I feel, as e'er to kindle bliss was given, On earth the highest, as I hope for Heaven ! Know, by its prior in yon sanctuary, His guardian uncle, in his infancy (Beyond redemption my inheritance, With hypocritic fell intolerance, He scrupled not, that uncle to purloin To heap it on his superstitious shrine). An hapless orphan, was poor Theodore Placed on his task of countless beads to pore — Till quenching by degrees its joyous fire, His life, with his noviciate, to expire Seeni'd, as it lower'd with its deepest gloom, The period, that approached to seal his doom — Yet, to avert still his impending fate, In cheering vision might he contemplate. The novice, to direct him in his path And meet th' obdurate prior's utmost wrath, The rescued Dorothea's lovely form Bright as his guardian angel in the storm — z2 340 THEODORE AND I) <) II OT II K A . For as to mc her precious life you owe, Sir Knight, yet she my frccdoin did bestow, She from those fated walls to work my weal or woe." XII. Then fully flash'd the truth upon his' mind, Nor was the f^entle ifallant kni;;ht so blind As not in her ilemeanour to discern, In spite e'en of herself, and, grieving, learn The secret as a case without a cure — The passion she was destined to endure — Which, further, with a proof so glowing scaled, Fair Dorothea to his view revealed, As to prepare her he the tidings bore Of the approach of the brave Theodore. XIII. As the famed Lybian leader forced his way Through Alpine snows, that flame here mark'd its sway, " And, midst these rocks, unstained with gore-drenched fame, Methinks, a greater victory may claim ! I I KNNEKDAL K. 341 And wave its l):mncr, on the hike's fair side, Upon the ilwelling that was fortified Against tlic prior and Iiis jackinen bold, W ho marched to chiini the novice from his hoUl, Freed from his monkish trammels, who, arrayed In mail, due answer to sueii summons made. XIV. l^dieeded while such birds of clamour flew, Like those aroimd his turrets, or the mew That hoverM, wailing o'er the riven dock, \\ hen it was drifting with such woful wreck — \^'ilcnce, in fiimiliar phrase, as I would fain \\ ith proverb point an unambitious strain, 'Vo wit, " 'Tis an ill wind that hloivs no gaud," As plainly said, as felt and understood — \\ ith her, whom he had rescued from the wave, The appellation (which their sponsors gave. And with the bliss they in their union found, So with their foster-father's blessings crown'd) Well might the couple, in each several name. Of Theodore and Dorothea claim I i KENULF AND CLAKE. A VISION OP CALDER ABBEY AND WASTDALE. PERSONS OF THE VISION The Abbot. Rcinfrcd, Forester to the Abbey. Chirc, his Daughter. Kenulf, Falconer to the Abbey. ^Vhelpdalc, a Mosstrooper. Edwv. i The action of the Poem is supposed to take place in the reign of Henry IV. KENULF AND CLARE. PART THE FIRST. CALDER ABBEY. I. As poetry with painting oft unites, This to illustrate what that craft indites, Fain would 1 see not altogether fail The converse of the custom in this talc. II. Be he, who viewed th' anticipated feast, A belted baron or a mitred priest, No picture * could the feudal times afford, Methinks, betwixt the vassal and the lord, • Alluding to Landseer's Picture of Bolton Abbey in the Olden Time. .'346 K B N U L F AND ( L A K K. Where inutiml confidence so held its reign, As that I fiiin would ofTer in my strain — And, as 1 strive to give a sketch in rhyme Of Calder Abhey in the olden time, With the good abbot make the scene appear, With all its hunting and its hawking gear, The various spoils profusely as they lay, The tribute which the willing tenants pay- ill. Where, on some border strife, or sport, or chase, A chieftain with his band, with courtly phrase. All, on a sudden, as an urgent guest, For bed and board might forward his request, 'Twas wise, then, in the host with fare to stock. Besides his own, for such a craving flock. Who, in the hour of peril, would afford His house their succour for their bed and board. IV. Nor vainly their liege lord's good will to claim, The forester and falconer thought they came CALDKR ABBEY. 347 (Tlmn whom of stouter heart or blither mood None e'er explored the mountain, flood and wood) Upon the errand nearest to each heart, Which they were all so anxious to impart, As, with a parent's and a suitor's air, That errand might their anxious looks declare. And to an eye as keen as his explain — To the good abbot of Saint Mary's Fane — To whom, though in the abbey's service born, The name of serfs they would, indignant, scorn. They deem this grateful heartfelt courtesy Due as the holder of the seignory. Nor could he fail to promise at his shrine The happy couple cordially to join ; With whom himself disporting as a child, They, in their childhood, had so oft beguiled The time, and made the interval so lightly pass Betwixt the heavy hours of lengthen'd mass — Whilst in his dark-eyed glances laughs the boy. The girl's in sparkling blue express her joy, 348 K E N U L K A N U CLARE. I know not if, before him as they played, He half repented of the vow he made, Which, like a passing cloud athwart his sky, Lit by the cherub smiles of infancy, Proclaimed, at least, the warmth that could impart Its kindly influence on the abbot's heart — And, Nature, through its adverse, viun control, Could shed thy genial light upon his soul. VI. And, as they left him who had so beguiled His hours, his forester's and falconer's child, I know not if his fancy there might roam, E'eu, with u sigh of cuvy, for their home. WAST DALE. .'>49 KENULF AND CLARE. PART THE SECOND. WASTDALE. I. Home to the mountains then they joyful fare, Good Rcinfred and blest Kenulf, back to Clare : As thou uprear'st upon thy crest their crown, Where, midst those giant mountains, thou dost frown, Scawfell, their monarch. Fancy, there I tread With thee again that region to its head — There as thy hand, as erst, in sylvan dress Can, \\'astdale, deck thine alpine wilderness — There as thy towering sentinels arise, The guardians of thy pastoral Paradise. 350 K E N U L F AND C I. A R K. II. U'licrc, on its smiling plot of verdant ground, Its lonely lake and tributaries bound And ijird the rci^ion in their brii^lit cnibrace, To beauteous Bowderdale impart sueh grace — \\ here, still, one solitary dwelling nears Its moss-clad structure through the lapse of years, As sanguine as tli' assassin seems to creep Upon his destined victim in his sleep, 'I'here prowls, at length, the wolf around the fold \\ liere the unguarded lamb he doth behold, Securely there as the was wont to roam Within the riuige of her romantic home. III. The eve was lowering — wrapt in lire and smoke As on her view a startling vision broke — Tiie lightning the arrested maiden sees Playing upon the crumbling crags of Screes (With which the scene the fancy may illume E'en as an omen of her threaten'd doom). WAST DA LB. 351 When, o'er its tluiiuler, with a whistle shrill, So louilly echoed from each circling hill, Encoinpass'cl, captive, tlie alVrightecl maid Felt a hard hand upon her shoulder laid. IV. The region, that so moU for lawless men Might in those times >upply the outlaw's den, Well might ware \\ helpdale, tlie mosstrooper bold, Great Gable, in thy cavern'd rocks behold j Than w horn a kite more keen, whate'er his game, Ne'er pounced upon his prey witli surer aim — Than he whom ye did find unto your cost, Lamenting each the loved one ye had lost, One his betrothed, the other his dear child, The frantic father and the lover \^ ild ! V. There fancy views the captive maiden stand Before the grim chief and his grisly band — There as the beamini; lustre of her eve Doth all the rufBan band, abash'd, defy — 352 K E N U L K A \ l» (■ L A K E. So rich :i nmsoni a.>^ the wary crew, So saiiiTu'me for so fair a creature view (The ^ohi, that flitters in lier flaxen U)cks, Lit by a sunbeam in the cavern'd rocks), For which the forfeit they were h)ath to pay And, lience, around her stood like hAunds at bay- Secure, invuhierable in her charms, Tliat thus arrayed her witli such coiujuerint^ arms (For, Reinfred, thou hadst rear'il thy darling chihl Unlike tir untutor'd tenant of the uild), The kintlling noble spirit of whose sire The hour of trial could not fail to fire, And, oidy, with its last spark in hir breast expire ! VI. Scarce need I now on the vocation dwell Of the mosstroopers, since he woke his shell — Since the romancer could, in prose and verse, So to the life their feats and wiles rehearse — Suffice it simply for me to relate, Then, with the turns of my adventurer's fate. WASTDALK. 31^)3 Tliat none tlmn he, for rape and rapine made, Evinced mure craft and cunning in their trade — So noted for his cvil-l)lazing star Upon his licad of predatory war, \\ lio, in liis various outrodcs so excell'd, The manifold encounters which he held From ambusli, and upon tiie open field, The desperado's palui which each could vieUl Him — when their crescent in its wane Might mourn the Percies in their Hotspur shun, Though for awhile their crest e'en threat'ning shone To hurl the warlike Henry from his throne ; Against whom when, in Shrewsbury's gallant fight, In which the monarch still maintained his might, Our outlaw joined and fled, unto the hour. When he from Berwick's* famed beleaguer'd tower Made his escape, the siege 'gainst such a host When forty-eight freebooters could so boast, To him that still a refuge could afford, With all his comrades put unto the sword. A A 354 KENILF AND CLARE. VII. Such of the lynx-eyed hunter, with his uik's Wlio held secured such prey within liis toils : And, midst his haniht-i^roui), () it was ruth, Indeed, to see a comely pensive youth, Scarce twelve years old, to such a*gang allied, \\ liom now the captain call'd unto his side, And whisper'd earnestly into his ear That which the hoy scem'd anxiously to hear — And then, preparing for the task imposed Upon him, when the by-scene with him closed. As he in a more gallant garb arrayed, In beaver with its plume and richer plaid, Upon the captive maiden, as he pass'd, Not unobserv'd, a glance of pity cast. VIII. And of the captive maiden, as she lay Upon her pallet till the dawn of day, From whom, so strictly guarded, though aloof Each robber kept beneath his cavern'd roof, WAS! DALE. 355 Each sympathetic heart must, through that night Of dire suspense, share in the piteous pligiit — And ^vlK>n, at length, upon the rising sun She fix'd her gaze — his endless course to run — Till, through that tedious day, with such a gleam Hope cheer'd her vision in his setting beam, That scarcely could her senses then believe It, till her Kenulf's self could undeceive Her, as she rush'd to meet him, when the chain, Which held her, drew her with such force again Back, with its rivet in her prison-rock. Her fainting frame could not withstand the shock — She, who with such an energy of soul The band confronted, could not now control The tide of feeling, while the ruffian band Her ransom wrenched and shared with grasping hand From him, with whom, revived, she wing'd her flight, For which the brigand did his promise plight. IX. As the wild Arab and the Buccaneer Brave all the hazards of their dread career, A A 2 356 KENULF AND CLARE. Yet, strange to tell, in their unliallo\vecl cause, Make and maintain such honourable hiws, Fain would I leave the leader and his crew Their reckless course of plunder to pursue, To follow now the maiden in her flight, Like the scaped dove from falcon or from kite. On which her mate would, like the eagle, wreak The fury of his talons and his beak, Who came resolv'd not unreveng'd to die, If faithless he had found that company. And in his very den the lion dare That oflFer'd any outrage to his Clare — Whom as, with transport, in his arms he placed And the near broken-hearted sire embraced. What joy more wish'd-for could a lover name To crown his hopes and ratify his claim ? X. Thus to the abbey the betrothed had brought Their dear one, where a succour he had sought, The parent, to dislodge him from his hold. There, with his gang, where the mosstrooper bold WASTDALE. 357 Had in a fastness, on the mountain's side. For taking of the deer so fortified — Whence, as he, in his fell career of fame, Knew, with his booty, he must beat for game. With that against him, in another chase. He fled afiir and at a nimble pace — What time the chieftain Stanleigh had arrayed A force, he, in the ransom of the maid Who with the abbot did so nobly join — The abbot who united at his shrine. And, mutually, from Kenulf and from Clare Received the blessings of the happy pair. XI. And of the hostage in that hapless boy. Who at the issue so express'd his joy. Whose birth seem'd mark'd with such a heavy ban, The nat'ral offspring of that reckless man — Whom, when of his deserted mother reft, With agonizing pangs his young heart cleft, Whelpdale, the caitiff father, at his pain Received in the path of guilt to train — 358 KENULF AND CLARE. Of him tlie musing fancy would relate And drop a tear upon his piteous fate ! XII. Already iiad lie, with an aching heart, To such a parent's wish perform'dliis part, Until, revolting at the scenes of guilt, Of plunder, and of blood remorseless spilt Before him, he resolv'd, whate'er the cost, To sever from a sire so harden'd, lost, Who ne'er with all his arts could have beguiled And thoroughly perverted his poor child — So glad to free him from the thraldom dire, In which, like precious metal in the fire. Those scenes the youth"'s fine spirit could assay — To rescue him from such a baneful sway Nor with the abbot could he plead in vain. So deeply sympathizing with his pain — Nor with those, to whom he restored their Clare, For which so warmly he their love did share, As well as gratitude, as with his aid He, farther, for their trust in him, repaid WAST DA LB. 359 Them, in his uianhoodj with his zeal and toils And knowledge of all the mosstrooper's wiles ; Whence ne'er that bird of prey dared to infest, Hovering, however keen, around their nest — Whence, though his birth was mark'd with such a ban, Yet Edwy still grew up a prosperous man : — Whence with a moral I would close my tale My fancy wove in this romantic dale^ Though it may eat like rust into the soufy How lucre still the passions can control. t\ THE FAIRY FETE. SCENE— WINDERMERE. I INTRODUCTION. I envy not, imperial Windermere ! The mind that would debar me of my joj-, And cavil at my course with critic sneer. With all the venomed shafts it would employ. With which it fain my pleasure would alloy — That pleasure in such heavenly prompted dreams Vain are such feeble efforts to destroy, What time, fair lake, thy mountains, woods, and streams Are mantled in thy golden or thy silver beams. 364 INTRODUCTION. As I would iiivocate the opening morn To bring thee, Nature, out in thine array, With her auspicious radiance to adorn. With every one beneath the sun so gay. To make it truly shine a gala day (Nor do I envy them, unto whose hearts, To put the wheels of life into such play. No joy such glad occasion e'er imparts, But leave to fester with their self-inflicted darts.) When lo ! methinks, propitious to my prayer, Aurora, in her splendour gaily drest (Though rivall'd by the " rowed and ribbon'd fair " Of the regatta), greets each merry guest — As erst I of the motley crew, that prest Unto the tourney, ventured in my song To chant forth, all so anxious in their quest Of sports that to a field of Mars belong, So would I echo here the pleasures of the throng — INTRODUCTION. 365 The shouts of triumph, rising from the shores, That rend the skies and with appkiuses hail, As they achieve their course, the winning oars, And gallant scudding of the foremost sail — Nor less upon the land to see prevail. So strong in active and athletic strife, In race and wrestling doth the triumph fail To them, to whom, all with such raptures rife, Time so can speed th' excited joyous hours of life. But as, at length, the cup of Comus palls Upon the taste, and, on its flagging wing. Weary to earth such high-flown pleasure falls, My throng retires to rest — as I to sing The vision Fancy to my view doth bring. Upon the memory of this mirthful day. Upon my dreaming senses lingering. All, with her aid, the pageant to survey Upon the lake of Oberon, the imperial Fay. SPIRITS OF THE REGATTA. Oberon. Titania. Umbriel. Urganda, The action of the poem is supposed to take place in the reign of Elizabeth. I THE FAIRY FETE. THE REGATTA. I. Lo ! where, amid its fairy ocean's smile, In emblematic miniature portrays Her realm the glories of the mother isle, There Fancy, with enraptured ken, surveys The lakes' fair queen so simply she arrays, Where neither arms nor chariot she did own — That realm, which with an olive branch she sways And where she holds her court, could boast no " throne Which far the wealth of Ormus or of Ind outshone." 368 THK KAIRY KETK. II. • And O, auspicious Fancy! of tliv reign The golden age as he would invocate, IVrchance thy rival stars * his kindling strain May with their favouring influence animate — And, trust me, thougii witii no vain liopes elate, Yet, Fancy, so enamour'd of his theme, Thy humhle bard may love to meditate And lighten up his vision with a gleam From thy own prompted summer night's enchanting dream. III. Thus, \\'indermcre, upon thy fairy main Invoking, goddess, thy inspiring power, I feel the influence of thy magic reign, Howe'er detraction with her cloud may lower, So murk, so pregnant with her sulph'rous shower — \^'ith Cynthia in her car of silver light So softly gliding in auspicious hour, A brilliant vision bursts upon my sight, To charm thee. Fancy, with its glorious pageant bright. * Shak^peare and Spenser. TMK llKt.AITA. 369 IV. Alul oil the stiitioii, wliere, in such u night, The nuisc niuy farther meditate her hiy (I'iie scene around her to her charmed sight As Nature with enchantment doth array, Sleeping in moonUgiit to her rapt survey), No evil omen thence her ken could hail, As she beheld upon its traiKjuil w ay Dark o'er its deep blue vault, with transient veil, Von clouil steer like a vessel with its sable sail. V. Fair W indermere ! descending then it past, That " lazy pacing cloud," thy steeps among, Until the vapour on a ridge at last Rested — and, like a monstrous harpy, flung (There brooding o'er the valley as it hung) Such raven darkness from its wings of soot, That, pealing from their haunts that echoing rung, The startled night-birds fled with horrid hoot. Each fish into the deep, to covert every brute. B B 370 TMK FAIRY FKTK. VI. For, in the bosom of that sable cloud, So heavily borne clown into the cU-ll, The wily Umbrcl with himself did shroud A magazine of mischief, wrought in liell, I'th' depth of which he wove his devMish spell. Of shells and rockets an abundant store, Of those, he aimed at with a hate so fell, He meant upon the hapless heads to pour. Fair Windermere, in launching, freighted, from thy shore. VII. Nor unattended on such errand came. Of mischief when so wide the rumour ran, I ween, the demon by his worthy dame : Than whom no Gorgon, hag, nor harridan. No witch, no fury, female Caliban, E'er looked more gaunt in face or limb. Blowing her curses on each child and man. Than Umbriel now thy wedded sorceress grim, So full of hate, in heart and head, up to the brim. THK U KG ATT A. 37 1 VIII. With her voracious, horrid mouth agape, Fit emhlcm did that murky ch)ud portray Of her, when it assumed a harpy's shape, In which when its commander held ids sway. As, to a bark transformed, it bent its way Upon the secret expedition here (Her science as she could so well display), He well appointed her ciiief engineer. To blow up all within her range her favourite sphere. IX. Hard by the seat of empire, wiiich they own In their Belle Isle two sister islets rear Their regions now with brambles overgrown, Where, in their wilderness profound, appear The blossoms to which shade is all so dear, The lilies of the valley whence their name — In truth they were most lovely realms whyleare. Their haunts of joyaunce where to make them came The potent fairy monarch with his royal dame — B B 2 \VJ1 r fl K KA I H V K KT E. X. King Obcron, who his consort thus addrcst (But not ;is TickcU * in each tuneful Hue Made Albion, clasping Kcnna to his brciu;t), " Accursed be the hand that did refine And shrunk my stature to a size ^ ith thine ! But blest the hand that did our t'ornis cidarge, Kaeh in a more extended sphere to shine, And ne'er a task more pleasing to discharge, Titania, did 1 order forth our gallant barge ! XI. To celebrate amid this charming scene (Jiefitting such a pageant to display) The triumpii of the glorious virgin queen O'er the niiscall'd ' Invincible array Of the Armada.' " So the kingly Fay, Addressing, led his consort to the strand And saw her safe aboard her barge so gay, Of the regatta ere he took command On the imperial lake of all the English land. * lu his poem of " Kensington Garden." THK REGATTA. 373 XII. A^, iill SO (Jrcijt, upon the silvery lake Tlic criift, so countless, his conunantl ohcy, And follow in their gallant leader's wake, As in their course so proudly they display Each full-blown sail and every streamer gay — As in his burnish'd bark each fairy glides, The burnish'd barks, the fairy fleet's array Unto the moonbeams, on the buoyant tides, So like a shoal of dolphins turn their shining sides. XIII. And as the gallant barks the circuit make, That on the buoyant tides so gaily shine. Around the regent island of the lake. Each as she holds her station in the line, Each, like the glorious bulwarks of the brine, A strange sail, with her friendly colours, bore Down on them, as glad company to join. In her deep hold which that infernal store Had hid, full fraught upon her victims' heads to pour. 37 I T II K K A I 11 V F KT K. XIV. WluMU'c thus, iiicthoui^lit, that their coinniniuUT's voice Gave, sc(j(rii)|T, vent unto his fiendish spite, " Rejoice* with me, niv gallant friends, rejoice, For soon, beneath the cover ot the nii^lit, We'll make them take n most exalted flight !" lint, as the bleeding viper bit the file, So did it fare with thi< same wicked sprite — And so did malice on herself recoil, To overwhelm her with her own defeated guile. XV. The pilot Fays, the while, all in the dark, By any sound or signal couUl not learn The country or c(nnmandcr of the bark. Till the}' in red-hot characters discern The H Aurv all so glowing on her stern, Detraction, from thy furnace in its frame, ^^ ith which it, self-consuming, seem'd to burn — Amid them till th' exploding fire-ship came, Launcing volcano volumes of devouring flame. • The reader may recollect the scoffing of the fiends in the sixth book of Paradise Lost. rut II KG ATT A. 37;'» XVI. I-Litlior too eager their dire scheiiu' to liateli, I lit' tr;iiii w lu'n I'lubrii-l and his i^ang had hiid. Or thai, on having lit the fatal niateh, To witness its eff'eets too lonff they staved, I'he hiters bit, due penalty they paid — riiough in tlnir own opinions nut less sU', '(luiiist all (Klial all iliu- [)reeaution made, \'el in their plot nnft)rtunate as Guy, Or those vvlio, \ enice, leagued in thy eonspiracy. XVII. The eonllagration, as it mounts the sky, l^xtinguish'd in its dire eelipsing glare The paling moon and stars and whirled on high. Ere they eould 'scape, tost in the troubled air, With torn limbs caught in their own hellish snare, Fell I'mbriel and Urganda with their crew — Then as they sunk again, the flames, more fair It brought the gallant fleet unscathed to view, \Mth streamers that as gaily to the night-breeze flew. 3"^ T UK F A I U Y K K T K . XVIII. Toworiiiij, like tlic ill-fated mangled game, The harj, upon her shalter'd harpy wings, I'l'lt, so niurli scorched, the fiirv of the flame, 'I'hat t(» the wind her bitterest curse she flings — As with her shrillest shrieks the wiiHin rings. As dropping with her mate, with horrid yell, The hissing watiT witii their downfal sings — \\ ith hate concocted in the depths of hell, As, like a brace of cormorants, they, howling, fell. XIX. \\'ith broken pinions as they flapped about (So have I witness'd, on a grand battue, The waves, hailed with such an exulting shout, The Wdutuli'd water- fowl so widely strew), Their bafHed wiles as they did justly rue — As now their fire-ship, with her blown-up deck, This stirring night-dream brought unto my view, On its last embers such a piteous wreck, As burnt, unto the water's edge, unto a speck. THK REGATTA. 377 XX. Next, as to fjatlicr there its pious flock, That to their orisons so duly sped, Tiie chapel from its iusuhited rock I' poll the lake its beauteous halo shed, Ne'er with a spirit of di'votion led More fervent, iti thrir piii^riniaije to Home. They kneel before the triple-er(j\vneil head, The myriads 'neath Saint {'iter's daz/ling dome, Than those assembleil where bla/ed forth Saint Marv Holm. XXI. \\'henee, with the solemn origan's j)eal. The chant, accordant, seems upon the ear As if from a celestial choir to steal — \\'here, holy mother, when thine isle they near And from its shrine the wafted immbers hear. They deem presiding o'er the sacred strain Thy spirit, as their rapt'rous course they steer, The joyous crews, and as they chant again. Far echoed in sweet dying murmurs o'er their main. .'^7^ 1 " K K A I It V K KTK. XXTI. HYMN OF THANKSGIVINC; The Lord of Hosts was on our side, Tlir Cod of Battles witli his inii^lit, \\ ho made our gallant navy ride Triumphant in the glorious fii^lit ! \\ ho breaks the bow and knaps the spear Asunder, dealt tin- deadly blow — The Lord of Hosts o'crwlulmed with fear, Discomfiting our vaunting foe ! XXIII. Then, as each gallant bark directs her prow, Each takes her station, as she furls her sails And drops her anchor hanging at her bow. The regent isle as with a cheer she hails — There where still Fancy with her sway prevails, There where each bark is moored in grand array (Howe'er the cynic at the vision rails), ^^'ell may it offer to my rapt survey The glorious feats of many a recorded day ! in K l< El. A I lA. 37'J XXIV. 'I'lie'tropliies hla/oiicd in the roll of fame, 'riiat'throuijh her truiii[) their influence sublime May hold, in many a brilliant action''s name To tlie most distant acje, in every clime, (^f the renowni'd achievements of my time ! There/ whence with'other triinnphs of the war, IMethinks (so faintly echoed in my rhvinc) I hear, in grateful pieans from afar. Of Howe, of Ouncan, \ inecnt, Nile, and Trafali^ar ! XXV. " For Homer's rage, for Milton's mighty hand " Whilst thou from \\ aterloo " who gav'st each lyre A theme, to send thy name o'er sea and land," Say, can he fail to feel some kindling fire. That with its favouring influence may inspire To animate liiy poets humble strain? Thence o'er each field the [)alm thou didst acquire Upon thy last, great chief, to crown thy train Of triumphs thou, in thy renowned career, didst gain ! TH K TA 1 K \ 1' 1;T \\. THE .MASK. PROLOGUE. Howe'cr the cynic at the vision mils, W ell nuiy the scenery to her rapt survey Present the picture which fair Fancy hails, The tints with which she would imhue her lay, Recordint^ that triumphant glorious day, When thou. Belie Isle, the victor-wreath didst gain, Far better than thy poet can his bay, Though so ambitious, in his zealous strain, To echo forth the strife that shook thy fair domain. '.iH'2 I UK K A I l( V K K T E. And as, all so propitious on the lake. He seemed unto his poet to command The gallant fleet that follo\vet forth upon our state, Yet, trust me, there doth reign within our realm A dauntless spirit that will overwhelm The foe — that ne'er will bend unto his yoke — A dauntless spirit whom I now invoke : — [If^aies her ivand.] THE MA-NK. 389 TIlou, w ho can stuiid imscatlicd i'th' hope forlorn And make a castle laui^li a siei^c to scorn ! Tliou, at whose i)re>eiice liopc ecr Mights lier himp, What news now, Robin, from the liostile camp? [^Jlobin rises to view on tlic tup of the toicer.^ \\ hat issue doth your ctnbassv betide? HUBIN. Listen, my i^uardian <|ueen, and then decide — IJow, in the dead of nij^ht, the hostile shore I reach'il, without the aiil of sail or oar, In ambusii, on the terrace of Bowness, To hear the chiefs their several thoughts express : — " How the protector sneers at their delay — Like Lakers, not besiegers, he will say, They carry on the work, a space the while To bore a tunnel and blow up the isle — The treasure there might surely well repay Their utmost labours on the settling day — But for the devil or the dragon there, That guards the fruit, th' attempt they well might dare, And in such counsel readily agree To pluck the golden apples from the tree !" MK) T 11 K K A I R V F RT E. Yet on tlieir leader for a stake so great They call for the assault, to brave tlieir fate. NAIAD. Thanks, zealous Hobin, for your embassy. The which thou hast fulfill'd so faithfully — [Ii(tl)in disappears.^ For lo ! nicthink^ the gliiimrriiig dawn reveals The foes flotilla on us as it bteals — ^\'ithout the sound of trump or noise of drum, All to your posts repair — the hour is come — Methinks by favour of our tru^ty scout That we shall put the enemy to rout ! [Exeunt the \aia(l and Chorus, when Itoh'tn marches out of the toiccr irith his band, halts, and ha- ranifiu-s them .] HOBIN. As gallant leaders do not deal in words When they should handle guns and brandish swords, ^^ ith these so do I call on every man On battle's eve to do the best he can — When, as the vultures hover round its flood (Who, reckless, would e'en turn it into blood) Til E MASK. 391 'J'o pounce upon tlic treasure in this isle, Ili'ii.', trust me, soUiiers, they will find the while A very Argu:^, lynx or watehl'ul hawk, As keen as the}' are — and whose craft will balk And keep the treasure close beneath its clasp From each fell talon and each ^rillin grai?p ! [Ofi the conclu.sio)i of the ionjlict, in iihich Rahin with his hand repulses the Invaders^ the Xaiad and Chorus re-enter, whilst the Genius appears with his attendant Spirits, durini,^ a hrilliant sunrise.] SCENE THE THIRD. GENIUS. It seems as if the golden orb of day, As he salutes us with auspicious ray, Rejoices with his splendour to adorn The greeting smile of this triumphant morn — On which your glory, Naiad, to proclaim, I fain would rear this temple to your fame — Beneath its dome be thou, fair Naiad, crown'd. For valour as for beauty so renown'd ! 392 TIIK KMKY FKTK. [y// the wavtuf^ of the irand of the Genius, Holme House is vonverteit into its pnsoit (ipju-arnnce^ beneath the jjortieu uf which owii enchanting lay. V. Nor can the muse or memory, with the theme, Tiiy gifted child f fidl, Fancy, to recal, Fired with a kindred spirit who did seem \Vith the great minstrel, as, " now scorned by aW/'X He sung how erst " those wakes in courtly hall "Began " (toward where passion might so brood), Ere she had felt her most disastrous fall, " When royal Mary," all " so blithe of mood," In happy days " kept holiday at Holy rood." * Lay of the Last MinstreL f Ettrick Shepherd. J Queen's Wake. 400 Tin; lAiuv fktk. VI. Not that, indeed, to quench their rising ire (Whose hearts such vuUure passions ne'er could tear) My fays sucli a peace-maker could nupiire — Nor of the choice fruits wliicli composed their fare It is witiiin my power to declare — ' Sufficient, that n>y gallant company, With kindliist feelings, could their hanquet share, Towards each other, with such cordial glee, To make old Time upon his downy pinions flee. VII. As mirth and mu=ic through eacli echoing grove, At intervals, so sweetly swell and flow — As hand in hand his loving spirits rove, \^■ith sympathetic joy their hosoms glow, ^^'^apt in tlie charm the magic strains bestow — There, on such an auspicious summer night. The potent Fairy wood god wish'd to show His power — when lo ! uprose a doughty wight, W ho chanted forth, with Stentor lungs, his stalwart might. THE BANUUET ANU 1 II K SONG. 401 VIII. -THE CORK LAD OF KENTMERE. AN HISTORICAL BALLAD. PAirr TliK FIRST. Lo ! I the man or shade of him before you who appear, All so renowned as the gallant Cork Lad of Kentmere, Lo! I the man, who stood before King Edward and his court, Where I was summon'd and, indeed, did show there niickle sport : They brought before me one, who oft had carried off the belt— We met — we closed — the stripling's waist when scarcely I had felt, I threw him, but not satisfied as with a wrestler's knack, So in a second bout, I, sorrowing, siiy I broke his back. IX. They brought me then a bow, which to another I did tie, And like a reed did snap them both asunder instantly — I call'd on those, to whom these feats so marvellous did seem, To go and view in Kentmere Hall where I put up the beam: When I was question'd by my noble monarch of my name, I humbly told him that I couldn't at all explain the same. Nor write, indeed, as e'en a syllable I could not read, Though haply I had been baptized in the Christian creed. D D 102 THE FA lit Y KETK. X. Some call'd me Herd, some Gilpin, but the Cork*Lzid of Kentinere W;is chiefly, sire, the appellation of myself I hear — (Hi-rd was the name my hapless and much-honour'd mother bore And Gilpin of the sponsor of the faith which I adore). 1 answer'd, when my sovereign ask'd what I did live upon, I had for breakfast milk and pottage, all so thick, whereon Dry shod a mouse might tread — and ah I most gallantly I set it To dinner on a wedder's sunny side when I could get it ! XI. And for my meed as champion of the wrestlers, for each feat, The house in which I liv'd with my dear mother, and for peat The paddock that did lay all so commodiously behind, W ith wood for fuel in the park as much as I could find — ^^'h^ch being granted by my liege, with his accustom 'd grace, I need not say how trippingly my steps I did retrace — The tidings brought to her, to whom such joy it did impart, And reach 'd my much-lov'd home and clasp'd my mother to mv heart ! THE HANUUET AND r 11 E SONG. 403 XII. PART THK SECOND. My mother, my poor mother, was, indeed, a hickless dame, In early youth in convent coop'd, nature, to (juench thy flame — And M-hcrc, no doubt, she was seduced by some wily monk, Jn foul hypocrisy and rankest superstition sunk — Turn'd out, without a friend, on the wide world, heart- broken, poor. And, till she got some work, obliged to beg from door to door — Till God, at length, did in my strength supply her with his aid, Her staff of life nor I do brag in saying that he made. XIII. Which was, indeed, in course of time well put unto the test, As 1 for her and for myself exerted for the best. There was a lowly poor estate fell forfeit to the crown. To which she drew with me, her babe, and where she sat her down — No let or hind'rance did she meet her entrance to withstand, But took possession quietly both of the house and land ; Which, from its stream and fry, with which it doth abound, doth claim The blessings and substantial honours, Troutbeck, of thy name. d d 2 4()4- rnE haiky kktk. XIV. My parent dear there I supported u ith my utmost skill, With fi>h out of the beck and all the game that I could kill, And guarded her from foes, whom 1 brought down with arrows keen, Whenever lurking at the Rake the ambush il Scotch were seen — O, ever in the time of tribulation and distress, How flocking friends and foes do then a man of strength address ! So did it fare with him from goodly neighbours, far and near, In any raid or foray, with the Cork Lad of Kentmere. XV. And when, at length, this poor estate was granted by com- mand, The grantee came to take possession of the house and land; But as, i'faith I I knew no law except of heavy hand, Th' intruder on his batterM pate could not its force with- stand : For which to London I was summon 'd, where I boldly hied, Of which the issue ye do know that did my call betide — Nor need I say how joyfully with my ain mother dear I Jived upon this poor estate, the rich lad of Kentmere ! THK UANQIET AND THK SONG. 405 XVI. rntil, at last, alas ! beneath my evil ruling star, My labours, witli my zeal and courage, carried me too far. Beyond my reach in struggling for their branches and their fruits, At forty-two I died of tearing trees up by the roots — \\'liat wonder, thcMi, her feeble pow'rs could nut resist the blast That o'er her liead, imshelter'd, with a fatal fury past? And that, where so she lived with him for many a happy year, His mother soon be laid betide tlie Cork Lad of Kentmere ! XVII. Then sternly as the spirit stalk'd away As Ajax' spectre, though in happier mood, A smile upon its features seem'd to play Until it faded in the dusky wood — Whence, in the moonlight, came in sable hood, In fitrure and in face so mystic, one, Who swelling, as a sibyl, as she stood, And in the veil and vestment of a nun, Prophetic of its legend thus her lay begun. 406 THE K A I II V K K T E . XVIII. THE HAUXTEI) HOUSE. OR. TllL i; KILLS Ol" CALGARTII. A I.KcJKND. \\'\t\\ spectres, with goblins, there staiitls by tlie lake, To be haunted, a house, that hliall fearfully make NN'itli its sights and its sf)unds its iiunate to shake ^^ honi coiisoienco doth prick with its goad I At his crimes each trav'llcr u illi terror to (piakc Who visits the aw ful abode ! XIX. There two skulls shall be placed, resisting Time's rust. Though plunged in the lake, though crumbled to dust, Though blown into atoms, returning they must Their station as proudly adorn (Though sightless each socket, though reft of its bust) With their grin of triumpli and scorn ! XX. In the north or the south, in the east or the west, At one mile or ten thousand, with dulness opprest, TMK UANQIET AM) TilK SONG. 407 In every strange land like a comfortless guest, So sad and reluctant to roam, These relics a nioineiit will never find rest I iitil they return to their home ! XXI. Though I bear them to China, to l^•/ and Peru, Though I e(Mnpass the globe, no country will do With them but their own, to which, e'er as true To the Pole as the needle, they'll steer — On the wings of the wind or the lightning so blue Again in their station appear ! XXII. To the moon, to the sun, to the planets and stars. Afar from the din of all mortal jars, By angels though carried aloft in their cars, Yet the skulls will still yearn to adorn Their station on earth with their worm-eaten scars. And their grin of triumph and scorn ! -408 THE FAIRY FKTK. XXIII. So the skulls of Calgarth with the skulls of Co- logne Of the king?, witii their crowns, that still blaze as they shone, ^^'ith their jewels arrayed, as each sal on his throne, In his pomp and his state, royally — Though bare of all gems each grim brow of bone Tn the light of their glory shall vie ! XXIV. Then, reader, off that figure so demure Know as the mystic veil and vestment fell — Off one, so sage, who'll keep (to kill or cure) Two skeletons, of which the skulls will tell The art in which the doctress did excel (From such a source doth superstition spread Full oft the baleful influence of her spell, And deeper in the mind her poison shed, As bolder she uprears her ghastly Gorgon head) — THE BANQUKT AND I' II E SONG. 409 XXV. And (further as the vision does inspire) ** The glowworm shows the matin to be near And 'gins to pale its ineffectual fire," As, at the warning shrill of chanticleer, The fairy tribe must soon all disappear — The filial feelings of that simple swain, The bearing of the Cork Lad of Kentmere, Might well awake their tributary strain, Ere with another scene they end their dreamful reign. XXVI. Before the play when the enchanter came (So oft invoked), propitious to his aid, Nor, INIerlin, scarcely need the poet name Thee with thy wand, black garb, and cap array'd. On British ground as thou hast oft display'd Thy power, as now, with thy complacent smile — Upon the stage upon this moonlit glade As 1 may well invoke that aid the while, To close the drama of the fairy lake and isle. 410 THi: KAIUY KETE. [Before Merliit retires he unvcs /lis wand, at which the fVood opens with a riew of the site of the Shire 6'lofies i/t JLangilatc, with three /fitches nppearinix u'ithin their respective hoinutaries ; in the distance is seen 1) tin i^ eon (ihj/ll . XXVII. THE WITCHES OF THE SHIRE STOXES. A LYRICAL SCENE IN LANGDALE. THRFE WITCHES. SATYRS. HARD KNOT, I WRY NOSE, J MERLIN. CHORUS OF SATYRS. FIRST WITCH. In Cuml)ria I my power can show, E'er since against the Saxon foe The Briton gallantly sustained So long the contest and maintained His station, in the age so rife In civil broil and border strife — I T II K » A N (J L K T AND THE SONG. ill ill every foray and each raid My craft and rancour I display'd, W'itli weapons, that were forged in hell, Arm'd from the Land Debateable ! XXVIII. SECOND WITCH. I in Wcstmaria, since the lands Were ravaired by the Pictish bands (Of whicli the chieftain when he cleared The red cross on Stanemoor he reared), O'er many a hapless moon-struck child Of woe upon the dreary wild, As well as those, in monkish hood. Who in a cave or cloister brood, By bigotry and witchcraft bound, Have through the province been renowned ! XXIX. THIRD WITCH. I in Lancastria, since its flight The Roman eagle to thy height, 412 T UK KA I K V F K I K. Caer Weriil,* wiiig'J, with wide-spread fame The empire of the witch do chiim — But iiwjstlv in the mortal iar Of the intestine racing war, Like our Queen Heeatc, tlien I reigned, Then wlieii the rival roses staintd, W ith all the hlood they did bedew The land, from kindred veins thev drew ! XXX. riH-^T WITCH. I come, arm'd witli the iharms and spells From lakes and rivers, glens and fells — But, chiefly, from thy haunted height, Blencath'ra (where a beam of light Ne'er playd upon its gloomv wave), IJeside thy tarn,t hid in a cave — There where mine art would make the sun To sicken at the spell it spun, • Meaning Lancaster. " The town that Agrirola found here be- longed to the western Brigantes, and in their language was called Caer Werid ; i.e., the Green Town." — IFetl's Guide. t The well known Tarn in the mountain, Saddleback, called also Glaramara. — See Sir H'alter Scott's ' Biidatof Triermain," Canto I. St 10. rnK uANurKT a n n riiK song. 41."] Whence jaundiced envy goads ine on To mar tlie f^te of Oberon I XXXI. SF.COND WITCH. I come, arm'd witli the cluuins and spells From lakes and rivers, glens and Tells — Hut, chiefly from the haunted grove Of Cirisedale,* where so oft I wove, Midst grunts and groans, my choicest charms — My goblins and my ghosts in swarms To gather and to work my will. To rob, to worry and to kill, Whence hell-sprung hatred goads me on To mar the f^te of Oberon ! XXXII. THIRD WITCH. I come, arniM with the charms and spells From lakes and rivers, glens and fells — • " Nigh the chapel, towards the west, lies a little hollow or gill, which they call Grisedale. Grise is a common name for swine, and it may well seem to have taken its name from being frequented by wild boars." — Burm' li' est mor eland. 414 THE FAIHV KETE. But, cliicfly, from the haunted stream On whitli but witcli-light sheds its gleam, Where, in tlie depth* of Duiiald mill, My incantation I fulfil, To make the toad and bat to creep, With fear and trembling, from Hieir sleep, Whence viper malice goads me on To mar tlie fete of Oberon ! XXXIII. TRIO BY THE WITCHES. So let us, as, with heart and voice, We at our several tasks rejoice, Each vice of which we make a choice, As envy, hatred, malice goad us on, Summon our cloven-footed pair, With horns and elf-locks of goat's hair Profusely deck'd, with us to share The joy to mar the fete of Oberon ! • In the addenda to West's Guide, (p. 236), there is a description of this curious cavern. THE nANQlET AM) TIIK SONG. 415 XXXIV. [Enter Hard Knot and Wry A'osr .] HARD KNOT. Obedient, potent hugs, unto your will. Each from his haunt upon his towering hill Descends, with pipe and tabor, dance and glee, The faithful servants of your ministry — The joyful echoes as we caught afar, \Vc thought that you would call on us to mar Their mirth, the fancies of the crew to foil And of its fruits the Fairy Fete to spoil, And so we set our wits to work, to slake Our spiteful tempers in the merry wake — And, with each instrument of punishment. To make each member of the club repent To their last moments, with their shrieks and squeaks, All their vagaries and their moon-lit freaks — So I my lash tipp'd with a scorpion sting [Qrachs his tuhip^ With crack as loud as pistol shot do bring, To make my naughty boys to change their song, And, wincing, feel, beneath my tickling thong, IIG Til K I A I K Y KKTK. Upon each smartiin; liidc to be applied, The hardest Knots tliat I have ever tied ! XXXV. WHY SUr^i:. Obedient, potent ii.ii^s, unto your will* I eoine to vou from olT inv tow'riiiir bill, \N lure, after a earouse, like bloated swine, And with my jovial brethren btretcb'd sujiiiic, I, tbrout^ij a pipe, thoui;b broken, did diseourse Musie as eloijuent as I^iingdale Foree — 'I'boui,'h the distorted feature may proelaim Something to my discomfiture and shame, In my vocation still I'll tempt my fate. E'en at the peril of a riven pate — Mv powers ol assault ami batterv try, 'I'hougb they should turn my nose still more awry — And with this staff of strength (the which the while With a shillela of the Emerald Isle [Jlouri^hes liis hliidgeon. May vie, or with that of Alcmena's son), To the encounter marching on. THK RAN a UK I AND IHK >ONG. 41/ ^^'itll his most richly merited reward \\'ili serve the Fairy Fete's ill-fated bard, For all his anxious cares and toils and pains, I'pon his broken heart and batter'd brains ! XXXVI. [^•/ horde of Sati/rs is seen (lescen
  • ta. I'ancy, tlirourjh that hfautoous vale, Of her anticipated joys wonld paint. As when so charrn'd thi- prospeet ^he did hail, — So ff)ndly cherish) t>t its promise tail, Compared with others, yet her station here Let not iinthanUful Memory bewail, ^\ ith Hope in Her, the Angel, now to steer My course, — to lift my vit>w up l<» her Blessed Sphere. III. Nor \V()idd I, it I had the power, reeall Her Spirit here its state to underj^o, Or break the sleep in which I saw her fall. To pay the debt to nature that wc owe, Vur all the joys it would again bestow, — For her again the cliances to endure. In mortal coil, of such a world of woe. As, from her course on earth, her spirit pure Has left the pledge her place in Heaven to secure. I N I- \ A I. r, i; V () I r u k i, a k k s. 12.') IV. • No, not lor all iIk- jo)> it would Instow, ^V()uM I Ikm- spirit from its blissful state Kccall, t'ach charier atul eli:>.iige t(i uiidergo, And to repass the awful closed i^ate, To meet again the threatening ills of Fate — No, as it (juix ors there, Affliction's dart, \N ith ;ill its pang^, \\\ rather bear the weight Of her bereavement on a riven heart, In fervent hope to meet again no nu)re to part ! V. And as the Memory, in her cherish'd grief, Our chosen haunts must e'er love to retrace, So, in that hope more strongly the relief May I experience, in the shortening space To meet again, blest spirit, by the grace Of Him, inscrutable to mortal sense. Of which, I trust, each sorrow to efface Of his frail creatures. He vvill so dispense His mercies, in His bountiful onuiipotence. VI. So, by tlir aid of that oniiiipotciice, Blest spirit, as in vision I siir\cy Our sojourn t'roni the ijlorious eminence, — Our sojourn, cm wliich its auspicious ray Our guiding planet slied upon our stay, ^^'llicll tlic romantic realm could so beguile — ^^'hich as the musing memory would portray, Amid a mountain wild it seems, the while, To kindled j'anev like an oasis to smile. Blest spirit ! making now that spot so holy '• Thee,Hassnoss,* all, indeed, surh hallowed ground — There to indulge a sacred melancholy, The memory seeks thy solitude profound ! There, as the giant guardians that surround Thee, as a garden midst thine Alps arrayed — Thy knolls and steeps with varied foliage crowned — Through which, in vista, down a sloping glade, Asgleams andglooms thy mirror with its light and shade. * A villa on the banks of Butterraere, the temporary residence of the author, on which Green justly remarks that " it has, in its con- struction, a considerable portion of elegant fancy; it looks to the foot of the lake." I riiK \AL/,i;v or r n !•: lakes. 42" VIII. There, heav'uly contemplation, thy delights (With such keen pangs as now the memory thrills — The memory of those tranquil days and nights — His heart, — in the celestial calm that fills That " awful depth of ^' silent circling '' hills") As he recalls, his sorrows to assuage, — The anguish of his bosom as it stills, His fancy, Ariel, fain would so engage Thy guidance on his melancholy pilgrimage. • IX. To where, athwart that cavern as the sun Then shot one brilliant transitory ray, Illumining its walls so damp and dun, Adown which as he glanced, the glorious fay, His homage, Scale Force, to thy shrine to pay, (Though it was but the cataract's lighten'd gleam. Of vapour, in its bright ascending spray. That mocks the vision), Ariel, thou might'st seem Half formed or woven of the mist lit by that beam. •128 A \ I N I O N () K X. As through ;i thin and flt*ecy cloud ui- hail. \\ liate\'r tin- orb of Cynthia can display, A female figure, in her a/ure veil Of sparkling vapour wrapt, to the survey, Did there hut half reveal her hright arhiy ; \N hicli now with such increasing lustre shone, As on tliat cal'ratt beamed the light of day, — As sat the maiden with her rainbow zone. Romantic vSolitnde, upon her cavern throne. • XI. W hilst on the I'ilgiim's ear so soothing stole Her tuneful voice, w hich thus arose to greet, As well as tranquillize his troubled soul : — '' Know, here, thou who revisit'st my retreat (Where mingled pain and pensive pleasure sweet May prompt, indeed, your stay), that I would fain In all my honours thus resume my seat. And, in sincerely sympathizing strain, Haply impart a lesson to allay \our pain. 1 T UK \ \ I r K Y () K T II i: L A K IC s. 4 JO XII. Behold an emblem in this cat'ract's course, And to its voice a due attention lend, These waters, threatening \vitli their s\\ollen force, Enough the mountain then in twain to rend, That now so tuneful from their heights descend, And thence in such mellifluous murmurs flow — In those, for ) ou to cherish and defend, ^^ ith all the hlessinijs left to soothe your woe. So, in their channel, may your days a charm bestow!" XIII. Nor could the Pilgrim fail an anxious ear To turn to all the Vision seem'd to say, And, at her counsel, drop a natural tear, As with her girdle she did fade away, The iris that illumed tiie cat'ract's spray : — Nor, Crummock, tracing thence in memory Thy land and lake, without a sigh survey The region erst he travers'd with such glee, And gazed upon its beauties with such ecstacy. l.'iO A VISION OK XIV. L iitil those t^iants on their furrowed sides (In memory further as he doth survey) Present the frightful ehasm that divides Them, — of such desohition and dismay There, in tliat scene an emblem to portray : Whence, as a warning, he may meditate llow Providence from being swept away, In thy miraculous and rescued fate, From that tremendous torrent saved thee, Bracken- thwaite ! XV. So, in his trial, to sustain the shock He has experienced and its force control, May Fortitude support him on tiie rock Of Faith. Thus, e'er, how o'er his sorrowing soul, Impetuous, like the Lissa, they may roll. The rage and ravage of Adversity, May he resist upon that rock — the goal To crown his efforts, so triumphantly, As thou unfold'st, Lows Water, in thy sanctuary ! TIIK VAI. LKV OK IIIK I.AKKS. 431 XVI. As, like a bird of passage of liis mate, Reft of the tender partner of his flight, In memory he may love to ruminate Each region that awakes such lost delight, — As to his melancholy musing sight The memory there rekindles every charm, In all its glowing hues and tints so bright, \\ illiout a cloud his bosom to alarm. As when the prospect with :>uch sanguine hope could warm. XVII. Beneath that blighted hope — the sudden scowl Which all at once so overcast his sky. Undaunted may he hear the tempest howl And gaze upon it with an eagle's eye. Around his eyry as the lightnings fly, Unscared, upctn the mountain's quaking crest, — There, like the bird of Jove, the storm defy. His young ones, in that hour, more closely prest. With all a parent's fondness, to his widowed breast. -132 A \ I s I (1 N f) K xvrii. U'ith such a call upon his heart and mind, Joined with his passion for sweet poesy And love for thee, Retirement, lie doth find A charm which he now feels, exceedini^ly, Spread o'er his breast with soothinp|y, with due piety, To ease it of the anjjuish of thy dart That he endures. Affliction, in his riven heart ! As an appendage to the foregoing poem the author adds the following lines, to which he prefixes this motto : — What 'vails to tell how Virtue's purest glow Shone yet more lovely in a form so fair: And, least of all, what 'vails the world should know That one poor garland, twined to deck thy hair, Is hung upon thy hearse, to droop, and wither there I* MONODY. From her thougii with such racking anguish torn, \\ ith whom I hoped to reach the awful bourn, * Conclusion to the " Lord of the Isles." THE VALLEY OF THE LAKES. 433 The sunbeam, on my path that ever shed Such lustre, in this darlven'd world now fled, — With agonizing pangs my heart so cleft, Yet, in her pledges of alTection left Me, can I mourn each ray of solace gone. And say I'm doomed to travel all alone ? Forgive me, gracious Heaven, in my grief, That hast vouchsafed my sorrows such relief' And on my broken heart effused the balm O'er it to spread a melancholy calm ; And though througli life I may expect the swell I fear no efforts of my soul can quell (Like that whichheaves and sinks the storm-swept breast Of ocean ere it can subside to rest), Yet, if my spirit like the bark can ride The gulfs in triumph of the settling tide, I'll strive, howe'er my strength the task may strain, With resignation to endure my pain : — As here, now, with an heart-wrung sigh again (Turning past pleasure into present pain), F F 434 MOVODV. Here with tlir partjicr of my jov? I h:ul The beauty, L llsincro, of lljy peaceful vale, — The scenes recallitig, with her at my side, I travcrs'd, hii;h as tlierc my sun did ride And on this lovely lake its lustre ^hed, That now hath set for ever on my lica4! O (ere I gazed the last time on the sea \\ ith her from solitary AUonhy, Across the Solway, Criffel, where thy luiglit Cheered w'liU its gilded top in vain my sight, And where the oft invigorating wave I I-'ailed her fair ilrooping form from death to save) To nie, once, I il.-niere, with so high a priilc Of thee cnamour'd, be not now denied In thee to hail the emblem of the main, By which the haven I may hope to gain, With our dear children, as she deigns to steer Our course, the Angel, to her blcssed sphere ! XOTE.S. F F 2 NOTES. THE TEMPLAR. NOTK I. Fain would I for awhile, enraptured, dwell Beneath me where the charming realms appear. St. iii. p. 1G4. At starting I may quote the subjoined passage, and recommend it to the attention of the tourist for the just- ness of its description: — "Ascending the road from Pooley Bridge to the south, from the brow of the common, you have a grand general view of Ullswater, with all its winding shore, and accompaniments of woods, rocks, mountains, bays, and promontories, to the entrance of Pat- terdale. To the north-east, you look down on Poolev Bridge ; and the winding of the river guides to a beau- tiful valley, in the midst of which Dalemain is seated, queen of the Vale of Eraont. Turning south, proceed by White Raise, a large karn of stones, and near it are the remains of a small circus, ten stones of which arc still erect. A •13H NOTES. little further on are the vestiges of a Inri^cr one, of twenty- two paces by twenty-five. All the stones except the pillar arc removed. It stands on the south side of the circus, and the place is called Moor Dovack. Here the Vale of IJamp- ton opens sweetly to the view, ascending to the south, and spreading in variety of dale land and beauty. At the bridge, the road turns to the right, and soon brings you upon Ilawcs Water." — M'cal's Guide to the Lakes. ^ NOTL II. There, boldly shooting tow'rds the adverse shore The promontory leaves so scant a space For the fair lake — St. vi. p. 170. " llawcs Water is three miles long, and generally about half a mile across. A richly-wooded promontory, which from the lower grounds appears to cut the lake in two, shoots boldly towards the opposite shore, and leaves scarcely more than two or three hundred yards in breadth. Mea- sand, with its school, stands near this promontory, on the side of which, in wild impetuosity, rushes Fordingdalc Beck, a stream abounding in picturesque Waterfalls." — Green's Guide. Note III. There as ascending from their deep-sunk bed Of rock, so foaming where the waters dash. Beside their richly wooded bank, the Rash. — St. xvi. p. 196. " Askham church is finely situate on the western bank of the river Lowther. The vicarage, which commands a NOTES, 439 charming view, joins the churchyard, and the bridge is a good feature in the scene, either looking up or down the river. The rectory of Lowther is a cheerful object from the churchyard, having on the right a high wooded bank called the RsLsh."— J bid. Note IV. O Riggcndale !— St. iii. p. 190. " Riggcndale stretches in a craggy descent, witli a ridge as sharp as the back of a deserted racer, from High Street down to the bridge between Chapel Mill and Mardale Green. Riggcndale probably gave name to Mardale, though it di- vides the vale of desolation from that of fertility; for be- tween Riggcndale and the lake the river passes, in many a sportive curve, through level but well cultivated lands. These flats are succeeded by easy undulations and rocky knolls, over which the native trees are scattered with a be- witching wildness, while others travel high up the rugged steeps towards the summits of the circumjacent mountains." —Ibid. Note V. Shap Abbey. — p. 19S. "The abbey of Shap was transferred from Preston, in Kendale ; perhaps for the sake of the situatipn. which is in a lonely vale on the west side of the river Lowther, about a mile from the church of Shap, well adapted to the pur- poses of retirement and contemplation. Thomas, son of 440 NOTES. Cospatric, by his charter without date, (whicli was about the year 1 1 19, iu the twentieth of Henry I.) gave to God, and St. Mary Magdalene, and the canons of Preston, of the order of Prrcmonstratenses, a portion of his lands in Preston, in Kendale, to build a mansion for the said canons ; to wit, his own demesne park there, and other lands, speci- fying the respective metes and bounds." — Burns' s IfV*/- morcland. ^ NOTK VI. Shap, as wc roamed upon thy dreary tracts, C)ft did we see the spirits, in their shrouds, Of those we murder'd, in the flying clouds, And heard their voices in the cataracts. — St. vi. p. "201. " Continuing the Shaj) and Penrith road for about four miles and a half, we turn off to the left and pursue a bve- road to Long Sleddale, which is a long, narrow, and deep vale, inclosed with high ridges of rocky mountains. Soon after our entrance into the valley, we pass a small chapel, where tbe inhabitants of the dale, issuing from their cot- tages, assemble to offer up their public devotions to the Almighty. A large brook intersects a strip of meadow ground, which runs along the bottom of this vale. The fields on each side rise in irregular swells, till the rockv de- clivity of the mountains precludes all cultivation ; where brushwood and coppices commence, and often climb almost to the top, sometimes finding support even on the craggy precipices The surrounding mountains continue to ascend NOTES. 441 with increasing grandeur. The dale then contracts a little, and towards its head the rocks become eminently conspi- cuous ; one of which, on the right, called Crowbarrow, or Backbarrow, is truly awful. Cascades and cataracts tumble over the precipices in various places, some of them from a very great height ; the magnificence of this scene is greatly augmented after falls of rain. A strong wind, in some di- rections, also produces a curious apjjearance in these water- falls, which we were so fortunate to enjoy when we passed through Long Sleddale. As the water begins to pour over the tops of some projecting rocks (upwards of one hundred yards in perpendicular height from the bottom of the vale), it is caught by a strong gust of wind, and violently forced forwards, exactly in the form of smoke, for several minutes together. So much were we deceived, that, after viewing it with great attention, we concluded that, notwithstanding the frightful situation, the smoke must proceed from some fires below, and we were about to make inquiry of a shep- herd whom we met, when, again looking to the summit, in a more calm interval, we were surprised to see little torrents of water where the smoke seemed to issue before. In half a minute after, again the water disappeared, and violently ascended into the air in the appearance of smoky vapour." — Houseman's Descriptive Tour. 442 NOTES. ^> THE HERMIT OF THE ISLE. Note I. From Castlerigg each bold invasion qucU'd. — St. iv. p. 217. Altlioiigh Green doubts of this being the site of the castle of the family of De Dcrwcntwater from his observation, that, " if these paltrv' stones were those on which their fabric was erected, it could not have been of great import- ance," yet he adds — " Its situation, however, on the side of a rocky declivity, while receiving the morning and noon- tide sun, protected it from the northern tempest ; and, com- manding views of craggy elevations, was fitted by nature as the scat of opulence and power, and, when fortified, as a secure retreat from marauding depredators." Note II. Thence, as they launch into their little main. Nature, responsive, owned the chant divine. With which. Saint Herbert, they approach'd thy shrine. Hymning thy glory in their fervent strain. — St. vii. p. 222. " St. Herbert's Island is famous for being the residence of St. Herbert, a priest and confessor, who, to avoid the intercourse of man, and that nothing might withdraw his attention from unceasing mortification and prayer, chose this island for his abode. The scene around him was well adapted for the severity of his religious life. He was sur- rounded with the lake, from whence he received his diet. NOTES. 443 On every hand the voices of waterfalls excited the most solemn strains of meditation — rocks and mountains were his daily prospect, inspiring his mind with the might and majesty of the Creator. Here this recluse erected an her- mitage, the remains of which appear to this day, heing built of stone with mortar, and formed into two apartments. The outward one, about twenty-two feet long and sixteen broad, has probably been his chapel ; the other, of narrower dimensions, his cell. St. Herbert was the bosom friend of St. Cuthbert, who wished and obtained his desire of de- parting this life on the same day, hour, and minute with that holy man. In the year 1374, at the distance of almost seven centuries, we find this place resorted to in holy ser- vices and procession, and the hermit's memory celebrated in religious offices." Mr. Green observes — " In what fol- lows, the feelings of the writer are in consonance with those of Mr. Hutchinson. ' As to our own parts, we should have had much pleasure in viewing this lake on its great festival, crowded with devotees, and to have heard the echoes making solemn repeats to the sacred songs by which this holiday was celebrated.' " — Hutchinson's History of Cumberland. Note III. So sweetly lies ingulph'd a beauteou.s bay. — St. i. p. 234. " Derwent Bay," where stands the residence of Lord William Gordon, " from a semicircular sweep on the north- west, runs in two parallel lines, south-east, to two grand and far out-stretching promontories, covered with fine trees. 444 NOTKS. These promontories assist in forming two other hays, which, though pri'ttv. are inferior in size and hcauty to the middle bay . . In every direction from Dcrwent Hay tlie wan- derer may find amusement. Should he dcliglit iti solemn gloom he may find it ; and he may, in cloudless weather, occasionally exchange it for the cheerful beams of sun- sliinc." — Green's Guide. THE FANATIC RECLAIMED. NOTK I. Romantic region! &c. — St i. p. 2.')1. Tliis stanza alludes to the subjoined tradition, on which the tale of the poem has been founded. •' .Marks of the plough appear on the tops of many of the hills. Tradition says that, in the reign of King John, the pope cursed all the lower grounds, and thus obliged the inhabitants to make the hills arable ; but I rather suspect John himself drove them to this cruel necessity, for, out of resentment of their declining to follow his standards to the borders of Scotland, he cut down their hedges, levelled their ditches, and gave all the cultivated tracts of the north to the beasts of the chase, on his return from his expedition.'' — Pennant's Tour. Note II. Brabanrons. — St. iii. p. 252. " In middle-age writers, a kind of Nctherland soldiery, infamous for rapine, being little better than commissioned NOTES. 445 banditti, who hired thcmpclvcs to tight for any that cuiihl pay them best. The word is variously written by tlic his- torians of those days ; all given them from the country of Brabant, which was the chief nursery of those troops." — Article " Brabancio/ies," in the Encyclopced. Brit . NOTK 111. As oft was wisely in secluded nooks Performed the service of the sanctuary. St. i. p. 2G6. " In a hollow, and out of sight of the road, stands, ob- scurely sequestered, the parish church of Bassenthwaite. In troublesome times (particularly in the time of popery), the churches in these parts (or most of them) were built in the remotest and most obscure part of the parishes : this was done, to the end that their enemies might not so easily find them, as they were often most sought for, being gene- rally the richest prizes, containing the reliques and plate ; and at this day, when we have a war with a popish king- dom, our sailors make no objection to landing upon their coasts, and piously visiting a few of their churches." — Clarke's Survey. Note IV. The shrine Saint Bridget's. — St. iv. p. 268. *' The church stands in Upper Bassenthwaite, and is dedicated to St. Bridget. Waldeof, son of Gospatric, gave this church to the abbey of Jedworth. In the tenth year 440 NOTKS. of King John, Duncan Lasccl and Christian, his wife, im- ])Ica(lt'cl Iluf^li, abbot of Jcdworlh, for the advowson of the church of Ihiascnthwaitc ; and it was adjudged to belong to the abbot, by the gift of Waldcof, son of Gosipatric, father of the said Christian. " — Burns'a Cumberland. THE AHROT AND THE KNIOIIT. Note I. Sir Michael was a prosperous gentleman. — hit. ui. p. 278. There is a very full account of the Hemings of Rydal (with whom, with poetical licence, the principal person in the poem has been connected) in Burns'}* Westmoreland, which ctimmcnces with stating, " llierc seems to be no doubt that the first of the name who had possessions in England came in with William the Conqueror, out of Flanders ; in some writings he was called F/anHrensis, unto whom William de Meschicns, brother to Ranulph de Mes- chiens, gave extensive territories in Cumberland." The ac- count adds, " When Stephen, earl of Boulogne (who was afterwards king of England) founded the abbey of Furncss, in the year ll'27, he granted to the said abbey whatsoever was in Furness, except the land of Michael Fleming. Which grant was confirmed by Pope Eugenius, with the like exception. This Sir Michael was also lord of the manors of Aldingham and of Gleston in Furness, in the countv of Lancaster. And as he sometimes also resided at NOTES. 447 Gleston, he received from tlicncc the name of Michael de Furness : on the contrary, he gave the name of Mitchel- land (or Miohael-huid) to u great part of Furness, which continues to be so called to this day. lu the ninctccnlh year of King Stephen, he granted Fordcbotc to the said abbey of Furness, and soon after died, and was buried in the said abbey, wherein most of the nobility and gentry in those parts were interred, as was very usual also in other places, many becjucathing their bodies, together with a legacy, to the religious houses." Note II. Lever's and Low \Vatcr'3 lufty lakes. — St. xxiii. p. 289. " A mountain trip, perhaps rarely equalled, is that from the bridge by the Black Bull in Cohiston to Lever's Water. The road is steep and angular, bearing in its progress to every point of the compass — it sees in its course at least one pretty waterfall, many picturesque stones, precipitous crags and mountains, one of which is the Old Man : its re- trospect is on the fairy grounds of Coniston and the lake, on which, ever and anon, the wayworn traveller will turn about in admiration of the prospect . . . From Lever's Water there is a road, or rather a way, to Low Water, a little lake, just under the top of the Old Man ; but this is rugged ground, and should not be undertaken without a guide, and, if he cannot procure one, the walker will show his prudence in descending from the tarn by the way he approciched it," — Greefi's Guide. 448 NOTKS. Note III. Till, Furncss. cnt'ring thus thy glen she hails, Through which her way the bclduui to the Abbey takes. St. xxiii. p. 289. No less an enthusiast than Mrs. Radcliffc of such scenes thus describes this glen and abbey : " In a close glen, branching from tliis valley, shrouded by winding banks clumped with old groves of oak and chesnut, we found the magnificent remains of Fumess Abbey. The deep retire- ment of its situation, the venerable grandeur of its gothic arches, and the luxuriant yet ancient trees that shadow this forsaken spot, arc circumstances of picturesque, and, if the expression may be allowed, of sentimental beauty, which fill the mind with solemn yet delightful emotion. Its romantic gloom and sequestered privacy particularly adapted it to the austerities of monastic life. The glen is called the ' Vale of Nightshade,' or. more literallj, from its ancient title, '*Bekangsgill,' ' the Glen of deadly Night- shade,' that plant being abundantly found in the neigh- bourhood." Note I\'. What time with fire and sword King David came From Scotland to assert his niece's claim. The rightful heiress to fair England's sovereignty. St. iii. p. 292. " David, king of Scotland, appeared at the head of an army in defence of his niece's title, and, penetrating into f NOTES. 449 Yorkshire, committed the most barbarous devastations on that country. The fury of his massacres and ravages en- raged the northern nobility, who might otherwise have been inchned to join him, and who assembled an army, with which they encamped at North Allerton, and awaited the arrival of the enemy. A great battle was here fought, called the battle of the Standard, from a high crucifix, erected by the English on a waggon, and carried along with the army as a military ensign. The king of Scots was de- feated, and he himself, as well as his son Henry, narrowly escaped falling into the hands of the English." — Hume's Hist, of England. Note V. Until the spoiler's Vandal hand defaced And in the dust its mangled carcase laid. p. 298. " Coniston Hall stands on the margin of the lake. It was, till lately, a splendid ruin, and is yet such when seen from the south and west, but the view from the north is frightful, and must aflfect with mixed feelings of disgust and sorrow every lover of the picturesque. By way of improve- ment, the projecting wings have been severed. from the main body of the building, and without leaving " a wreck behind." — Green s Guide. G G THE HRITON. SAXON. AND THE DANE. Note I. Lo ! where, upon the mountain's cloven crest. "St. i. p. .301. " The summit of Hilm Craj; is one of the most rugged in the neighbourhood. The Lion is a prodigious stone, and the Lamb, which is near it, is not a small one ; but there are Uvo other stones north of the first two, and the pairs bear a striking resemblance to each other. Onlv one pair can be seen from the south end of the valley. The stones on Helm appear as if they had fallen perpendicularly, for they rest upon each other in every possible direction, forming deep and frightful fissures, and, perhaps, caverns which were never diligently explored . . . Helm Crag and Deer Bields are two of the fortresses of cunning Reynard. Probably Helm Crag is the place alluded to by Mr. Gilpin in the following words: " The depredations of fo.xes are the onlv depredations to which the cottagers in these valleys are exposed. Our postillion pointed to a rugged part of the summit of a rocky mountain on the left, which he told us was the great harbour of these animals. Here they bred ; from hence they infested the country ; and to this inacces- sible asvlum they retreated in the hour of alarm." — Green's Guide. NOTKS. 451 Note II. Song of the emancipated Saxun. — p. 30."). Tliis song alludes to the following account of the con- version of Edwin, king of Northumbria : " From the south the knowledge of the gospel passed to the most northern of the Saxon nations. Edwin, the powerful king of Nor- thumbria, had asked and obtained the hand of Edilbcrga, the daughter of Ethclbert ; but the zeal of her brother had stipulated that she should enjoy the free exercise of her re- ligion, and had extorted from the impatient suitor a promise that he would impartially examine the credibility of the Christian faith. With these conditions Edwin complied, and alternately consulted the Saxon priests, and Paulinus, a bishop, who had accompanied the queen. Though the ar- guments of the missionaries were enforced by the entreaties of Edilberga, the king was slow to resolve, and two years were spent in anxious deliberation. At length, attended by Paulinas, he entered the great council of the nation, re- quested the advice of his faithful Witan, and exposed the reasons which induced him to prefer the Christian to the pagan worship. Coitfi, the high priest of Northumbria, was the first to reply. It might have been expected that prejudice and interest would have armed him with argu- ments against the adoption of a foreign creed ; but his at- tachment to paganism had been weakened by repeated dis- appointments, and he had learnt to despise the gods who had neglected to reward his services, That the religion G G 2 4.^)2 NOTK9. wliich he had hitherto taught was useless, he attempted to prove from his own misfortunes ; and avowed his resolution to listen to the reasons and examine the doctrine of Pauli- nus. He was followed by an aged thane, whose discourse offers an interesting picture of the simplicity of the age. ' Wlicn,' said he, ' O, king, you and your ministers arc seated at table in the depth of winter, and the cheerful fire bla/es on the hearth in the middle of the hall, a sparrow, perhaps, chafed by the wind and snow, enters at one door of the apartment, and escaj)C9 by the otlier. During the moment of its passage it enjoys the warmth ; when it is once departed, it is seen no more. Such is the nature of man. During a few years his existence is visible : but what has preceded, or what will follow it, is concealed from the view of mortals. If the new religion offer any infor- mation on these important subjects, it must be worthy of our attention.' To these reasons the other members as- sented. I'aulinus was desired to explain the principal arti- cles of the Christian faith ; and the king expressed his determination to embrace the doctrine of the missionary. When it was asked who would dare to profane the altars of Woden, Coiflfi accepted the dangerous office. Laying aside the emblems of the priestly dignity, he assumed the dress of a warrior, and, despising the prohibitions of the Saxon superstition, mounted the favourite charger of Edwin. Bv those who were ignorant of his motives, his conduct was attributed to a temporary insanity. But be disregarded their clamours, proceeded to the nearest temple, and, bid- ding defiance to the gods of his fathers, hurled his spear NOT US. 153 into the sacred ediHcc. ll stuck in the opposite wall ;• and to the surprise of the trembling spectators, the heavens were silent, and the sacrilege was un])unished. Insensibly they recovered from their fears, and, encouraged by the exhor- tations of Coitfi. burnt to the ground the temjjle and the surrounding groves. "t — Lingard's Antiquities of the Anglo- Saxon Church. Note III. The awful spirit of the water spout. — St. vii. p. 310. Green says of this region " that few districts seem to have been so subject to the numerous consequences of water spouts as the neighbourhoods of Saddleback and llelvellyn. Several have fallen within the last fifteen years. On the 4th of August, 180G, one descended ten miles and a half from Ambleside, which did considerable damage," the ra- vages of which the author recollects in his first tour to the lakes. The following is Clarke's description of an inunda- tion that took place in 1749 : "In the evening of the 22nd of August, noises were heard in the air, gusts of wind at intervals burst forth with great violence, and were almost instantaneously succeeded by a dead calm. In this country • This circurattance is not to be found in the Iditcr copies of Bede, but it has been preserved by King Alfred in his version. t -Vlcuin has celebrated the fame of Coiffi in his poem on the church of York: O nimium tanti felix audacia facti ! Polluit ante alios quas ipse sacraverat aras. 4')4 NOTES. the inhabitants are accustomed to the bosom-winds and whirlwinds; the howling of the tempest among the rocks and mountains gives them no serious alarm : on this even- ing the inhabitants went to repose at their usual hour. About one in the morning, a heavy rain began, and, before four o'clock, the whole face of the lower country was covered with water, many feet in depth : several houses were beat down by the torrents, and others filled with sand to the first story. Lcgbcrthwaite mill was totally destroyed, and not one stone left upon another ; even the mill-stones were watched away — one of them has not yet been disco- vered, the other was found at some considerable distance. The affrighted inhabitants climbed the roofs of the houses for preservation, and there waited for the subsiding of the waters." Note IV. Tlicn. ere the ancient wall, that marks that bound, &c. St. xiv. p. 313. " This vale of peace (vale of Grasmere) is about four miles in circumference, and guarded at the upper end by Helm Crag, a broken pyramidal mountain, that exhibits an immense mass of antediluvian ruins. After this the road ascends Dunmail Raise, where lie the historical stones that perpetuate the name and the fall of the last king of Cum- berland, defeated there by the Saxon monarch, Edmund, who put out the eyes of the two sons of his adversary, and, for his confederating with Leolin, king of Wales, first wasted his kingdom, and then gave it to Malcolm, king of Scots, NOTES. 455 who held it in fee of Edmund, A.D. 944 or 945. The stones are a heap that have the appearance of a karn or barrow. The wall that divides the counties is built over them, which proves their priority of time in that form." — irest's Guide. Note V. The Doom of the Kings, &c. — p. 314. Upon the preceding note and the subjoined extract this prophecy is founded : " Edmund was young when he came to the crown ; yet was his reign short, as his death was violent. One day, as he was solemnizing a festival in the county of Glocester, he remarked that Leolf, a notorious robber, whom he had sentenced to banishment, had yet the boldness to enter the hall where he himself dined, and to sit at table with his attendants. Enraged at this insolence, he ordered him to leave the room ; but, on his refusing to obey, the king, whose temper, naturally choleric, was in- flamed by this additional insult, leaped on himself and seized him by the hair : but the ruflfian, pushed to extremity, drew his dagger, and gave Edmund a wound, of which he immediately expired." — Hinne's History of England. Note Vf. Rydal, by thy murm'ring fall. — St. iii. p. 319. " The guide conducts the stranger in front of the house to the lower waterfall, under a sunk fence, by a path. On leaving the fence, the path enters a dark and dismal grove 456 N O T E s. of firs, at the end of which, on the opening of the door of a summer-house, is presented a scene of singular beauty. The house is an excellent protection to the spectator against 6un, rain, and cold, while he enjoys the charming little pic- ture it commands, and which bears no characteristic resem- blance to any other in the country. The scene depends not principally on the water for its charms, though it is diver- sified by the streams which pass in elegant associated lines ; it is the gencrol assemblage of its component parts, the sobriety of the colouring of the rocks and trees, the solemn stillness which usually prevails, and the refreshing coolness of these shades, which make this sequestered retreat the favourite haunt of meditation in that sultry season when ' Cancer glows with Phoebus' fiery car.' Green's Guide. THEODORE AND DOROTHEA. Note I. Saint Bees. — p. 323. " St. Bees had its name from Bega, an holy woman from Ireland, who is said to have founded here, about the year of our Lord 650, a small monastery, where afterwards a churcb was built in memory of her. The aforesaid religi- ous house, being destroyed by the Danes, was restored by William de Meschines, son of Ranulph and brother of Ra- nulph de Meschines, first earl of Cumberland after the Con- NOTES. 457 quest ; and made a cell of a prior and six Benedictine monks, to the abbey of St. Mary of York." — Biirns's Cumberland. " The monastery of St. Bees" writes Hutchinson, " is situate in a narrow dell, with low and marshy lands to the east ; the west exposed to storm from the Irish channel :" and Green observes, " On the right hand of the road from Whitehaven to St. Bees is that bold promontory, St. Bees Head, which is a mark for mariners entering the channel. This place abounds with sea-fowl and the favourite plant, samphire." NoTt H. EiHjerdale. — p. 332. In the Addenda to West's Guide there is the following account of Ennerdale ; " In a ride from Keswick to Euner- dale, the mountains, between whose bases an irregular avenue opens for the curious tourist, are more variegated than those in other regions of this little world of wonders. In the course of ten minutes' travelling he will behold the most beautiful verdure climbing to the summit of one, a bushy wood creeping to the top of another, and the most tre- mendous fragments of rock scowling from the front of a third. The Pillar challenges particular notice. The mountains which serve to heighten this scene, and enhance its surprise, are Sty Head, Honister Crag, Wastdale, the Pillar, and Red Pike. The Liza waters the base of the latter ; and on its margin lies an even, level road, not formed by the hand of man, but presenting to the eye the appearance of a pavement. The delighted tourist will in- 4oH NOTKS. sensibly confine his view (though it is not bounded by any of the lofty objects already mentioned) to the verdant island of Gillcrthwnitc, whose romantic situation must Ik; set'ii — description cannot furnish an idea of its beauty. — An essayist, in the provincial paj>er of this country, speaking of this j)lacc, sayb, ' It forms a picture such as the canvas never presented ; it embraces a %'aricty so distributed as no pencil can ever imitate. No designer in romance ever allotted such a residence to his fairy inhabitants — I had almost said, uo recluse ever wooed religion in such a blessed retirement.' Gillerthwaite is not, however, an island, though almost as much contrasted in the landscape as land with water. It is a patch of enclosed and apparently highly-cultivated ground, on a stony desert of immeasurable extent ; for the moun- tains on each side of it arc the most barren in their aspect, and continue that appearance till their heads mix with the horizon, Tliere are two decent farm-houses on the inclosure, and, from the serpentine tract of the valley, no other habi- tation of man is visible." KENULF AND CLARE. Note I. Calder Abbey. — p. 345. " The parish of St. Bride's, or St. Bridget's, lies on the north side of the river Calder, upon which river stands the abbey within the manor of Calder, so named from the rill N0TK8. 450 or beck falling clown the mountain called CaldfcU (from its cold situation) into the dale where the abbey stands, and thence into the Irish sea. This abbey (which was of the Cistertian order) was founded by Ranulph, son of the first llanulph de Meschines, in the year 1 134." — Burns's Cum- berland. Hutchinson thus describes its present state: " We ap- proached the remains from the west, and the first appear- ance of the ruins which catched the eye was singularly striking, the chief object being the tower, supported by four fine clustered columns, seemingly detached from the other parts of the structure. To the south, the winding banks of tlie river are clothed with brushwood, forming an amphi- theatre, though not very extensive, yet remarkably beauti- ful, the area of which consists of level meads. To the north the eminences are clothed with a spring of young oaks In this situation, the solemn ruins seemed to stand mourning in their sacred solitude, concealing woe in the secluded valley, and bending to the adversity of ages, like the image of Melancholy looking down de- sponding on the tomb of interred honours and wasted orna- ments." Note II. Wastdale.— p. 349. " Wastdale Head is a narrow but fruitful vale, and, if ridded of its stone walls and more profusely planted, would truly be a pastoral paradise : all its inhabitants are shep- 4(»() NOTKS. herds, and live at tlic feet of the most stupendous moun- tains ... On the north of Middle Fell runs Nether Beck, and on the south of Ycwburrow, Over lieck ; these rivers and the lake enclose three sides of an extensive plot of cul- tivated land, called Bowderdulc, on which stands a solitary house, owned and inhabited by a family who have possessed it for many generations. The Screes, in one grand succes- sion of aspiiing cliffs, bound Wast Water Xin the eastern side." — Green's Guide. N'oTK III. The lightnmLT the arrested maiden sees Plaving upon the crumbling crags of Screes. St. iii. p. 3.')0. " The cliffs called Eskdale Screes are truly formidable: our correspondent savs they are computed to be two miles and a half in extent, and a mile in height ; we presume the mile is computed in traversing the slopes in the ascent. He speaks of a phenomenon worthy the attention of the natu- ralist, and which he thus describes : " Part of the cliffs or scar consists of rotten stone and red gravel, which is con- tinuallv running down into Wastwater lake with great pre- cipitancy, which, sometimes, when a more than ordinary break or rent happens, causes a prodigious noise, fire and smoke, which in the night-time appears like lightning to the inhabitants of Nether Wastdale, which lies opposite to the Screes, on the north side of the lake." — Jluichui^on's Cum- berland. NOTES. Note IV. 461 the siege 'gainst such a host When fort)-eight freebooters could so boast. St. vi. p. 35^. " Seven desperadoes of the Marches, without any mo- tive that we know of but their natural restlessness and de- sperate love of plunder and violence, broke into and seized upon the castle of Berwick, killed Sir Robert Boynton, the governor, but dismissed his family, on condition that they should either pay two thousand mcrks for their ransom, or return again. In consequence of tliis violence, Piercy of Northumberland, the Lord Warden, made his complaint to the Warden of the Scots Marches, who disclaimed all know- ledge of the business, and offered to join his forces to those of Piercy towards redressing it. Upon this Piercy sum- moned them with all possible expedition, in the name of the king of England, and required an immediate surrender; but so many similar tempers did the neighbourhood furnish, that, notwithstanding the shortness of the time, their num- bers were increased to forty-eight, who, refusing to yield either to the king of England or the king of Scotland, de- clared that they would keep the fortress for the king of France only. They were therefore directly invested by Piercy with seven thousand English archers and three thou- sand horse under Neville, Lucy, Stafford, and others, against whom they defended the fortress for eight days, with the loss of only two of their comrades ; but, on the ninth, after a long and furious assault, an entry was made by storm, and 4C2 NOTKS. thi'V were- ill! put to the sword." — Introduction to Clarke's Suney of the Lakes. THE FAIUV FKTE. Note I. I,. I ! where, nniid it» fairy ocean'* smile In emblematic miniature jwrtrays Her realm the glories of the mother isle. — St. i. p. 30;. Gilpin observes of Curwen's Islnntl. or Belle Isle, that " a more sequestered spot cannot easily be conceived. No- thing can be more excluded from the noise and interruption of life, or abound with a greater variety of those circum- stances which make retirement pleading. The whole island contains al)out thirty acres, lis form is oblong, its shores irregular, retiring into bays and broken into creeks. The surface, too, is uneven, and a sort of little Apjienninc ridge runs through the middle of it, falling down, in all shapes, into the water. Like its great mother island, the southern part wears a smoother aspect than the oorthcm, which is broken and rocky." NOTK II. The trophies bhizoncd in the roll of Fame, That through her trump their influence sublime Mav hold, in many a brilliant action's name To the most distant age, in every clime. Of the renowned achievements of ray time! — St. xxiv. p.379. The author, in support of his " Regatta, " refers the NOTES. 4(l3 reader to the following " Apology," by IVofcssor Wilson. " for the little naval temple on Storrs' Point, Winander- merc :" " Nay ! stranger ! smile not at this little dome. Albeit quaint, and with no nice regard To highest rules of grace and symmetry, Plaything of art, it venture thus to stand 'Mid the great forms of Nature. Doth it seem A vain intruder in the quiet heart Of this majestic lake, that, like an arm Of ocean, or some Indian river vast. In beauty floats amid its guardian hills ? Haj)ly it may: yet in this humble tower, The mimicry of loftier edifice. There lives a silent spirit, that confers A lasting charter on its sportive wreath Of battlements, amid the raoimtain-calm To stand as proudly as yon giant rock, That with its shadow dims the dazzling lake ! Then blame it not : for know 'twas planted here. In mingled mood of seriousness and mirth. By one* who meant to Nature's sanctity No cold, unmeaning outrage . . . See ! in the playfulness of English zeal Its low walls are emblazoned ! there thou read'st Howe, Duncan, Vincent, and that mightier name Whom death has made immortal." ♦ The late Sir Johu Legard. IG NOT K'i. Note III. The Siege of Belle L