"And, gallant Brute! to make thy praises known, Another monument shall here be raised; Three several pillars, each a rough-hewn stone, And planted where thy hoofs the turf have grazed. And, in the summer time when days are long, I will come hither with my Paramour; And with the dancers, and the minstrel's song, "Till the foundations of the mountains fail Then home he went, and left the Hart, stone dead, With breathless nostrils stretched above the spring. -Soon did the Knight perform what he had said, And far and wide the fame thereof did ring. Ere thrice the moon into her port had steered, And near the fountain, flowers of stature tall A leafy shelter from the sun and wind. And thither, when the summer days were long, The Knight, Sir Walter, died in course of time, And I to this would add another tale. PART SECOND. THE moving accident is not my trade : As I from Hawes to Richmond did repair, What this imported I could ill divine: I saw three pillars standing in a line, The last stone pillar on a dark hill-top. The trees were gray, with neither arms nor head; I looked upon the hill both far and near, I stood in various thoughts and fancies lost, The shepherd stopped, and that same story told "You see these lifeless stumps of aspen wood- "The arbour does its own condition tell; You see the stones, the fountain, and the stream ; "There's neither dog nor heifer, horse nor sheep, "Some say that here a murder has been done, And blood cries out for blood; but, for my part, I've guessed, when I've been sitting in the sun, That it was all for that unhappy Hart. "What thoughts must through the creature's brain have past! Even from the topmost stone, upon the steep, Are but three bounds-and look, Sir, at this last O Master! it has been a cruel leap. "For thirteen hours he ran a desperate race; And in my simple mind we cannot tell What cause the Hart might have to love this place, "Here on the grass perhaps asleep he sank, "In April here beneath the scented thorn "But now here 's neither grass nor pleasant shade, The sun on drearier hollow never shone; So will it be, as I have often said, Till trees, and stones, and fountain, all are gone." Gray-headed shepherd, thou hast spoken well; Small difference lies between thy creed and mine: This beast not unobserved by Nature fell; His death was mourned by sympathy divine. "The Being, that is in the clouds and air, "The pleasure-house is dust :-behind, before, "She leaves these objects to a slow decay, That what we are, and have been, may be known; But, at the coming of the milder day, These monuments shall all be overgrown. "One lesson, shepherd, let us two divide, Taught both by what she shows, and what conceals; Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels." UPON THE RESTORATION OF LORD CLIFFORD, THE SHEPHERD, TO THE ESTATES AND HONOURS OF HIS ANCESTORS. HIGH in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate, "From town to town, from tower to tower, |