Go, view the fplendid domes of Greenwich, go;

And own what raptures from Reflection flow. 160

Hail, noblest structures imag'd in the wave!

A nation's grateful tribute to the brave.

Hail, bleft retreats from war and shipwreck, hail!

That oft arreft the wondering ftranger's fail.

ye heard the narratives of age,

165

Long have
The battle's havoc, and the tempest's rage;

Long have ye known Reflection's genial ray

Gild the calm close of Valour's various day.

Time's fombrous touches foon correct the piece, Mellow each tint, and bid each discord cease: 170 A fofter tone of light pervades the whole,

And steals a penfive languor o'er the foul.

Haft thou thro' Eden's wild-wood vales pursued 21

Each mountain-fcene, magnificently rude;

To mark the sweet fimplicity of life,

175

Far from the din of Folly's idle strife:

Nor, with Attention's lifted eye, rever'd

That modest stone which pious PEMBROKE rear'd;
Which still records, beyond the pencil's power,

The filent forrows of a parting hour;

Still to the mufing pilgrim points the place,

Her fainted fpirit moft delights to trace?

180

Thus, with the manly glow of honest pride,

22

O'er his dead fon old ORMOND nobly figh'd.

Thus, thro' the gloom of SHENSTONE's fairy grove, MARIA'S urn ftill breathes the voice of love. 186

E

And with a brother's warmth, a brother's fmile, 195

The stranger greets each native of his ifle ;

So fcenes of life, when present and confeft,

Stamp but their bolder features on the breast;
Yet not an image, when remotely view'd,

However trivial, and however rude,

But wins the heart, and wakes the focial figh,

With every claim of clofe affinity!

200

But these pure joys the world can never know;

In gentler climes their filver currents flow.

Oft at the filent, fhadowy close of day,

205

When the hufh'd grove has fung its parting lay;

When penfive Twilight, in her dusky car,

Comes flowly on to meet the evening-star ;

Above, below, aërial murmurs fwell,

209

From hanging wood, brown heath, and bushy dell!

A thousand nameless rills, that fhun the light,

Once, and domestic annals tell the time,

(Preferv'd in Cumbria's rude, romantic clime)

220

When Nature fmil'd, and o'er the landscape threw
Her richest fragrance, and her brightest hue,
A blithe and blooming Forefter explor'd
Those nobler fcenes SALVATOR's foul ador'd;

The rocky pafs half hung with fhaggy wood,
And the cleft oak flung boldly o'er the flood.

High on exulting wing the heath-cock rose, 23 225

And blew his fhrill blast o'er perennial snows;

When the rapt youth, recoiling from the roar,

Gaz'd on the tumbling tide of dread Lodoar ;
And thro' the rifted cliffs, that fcal'd the sky,
Derwent's clear mirror charm'd his dazzled

Each ofier ifle, inverted on the wave,

eye.

Thro' morn's gray mift its melting colours gave;

24

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