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• From Town to Town, from Tower to Tower, The Red Rose is a gladsome Flower. lier thirty years of Winter past, The Red Rose is revived at last; She iifts her head for endless spring, For everlasting blossoming: Both Roses flourish, Red and White. In love and sisterly delight The two that were at strife are blended, And all old troubles now are ended.— Joy! joy to both but most to her Woo is the Flower of Lancaster!

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; a worl ces, spoa the Poem, the ruins of some of which are, at this day, so The (.liflords had -***a distingui-hed for an honourable pride in these Castles; ******* seen that after the wars of York and Lancaster they *****it; in the civil wars of Charles the First they were again *** -ed again restored almost to their former magnificence * * *trated Lady Anne Clifford, Countess of Pembroke, etc. * * *r-than twenty-five years after was done, when ** a difford had passed into the Family of Tufton, three ****, eam-ly, brough, trougham, and Pendragon, were ** * sad the umber and other materials sold by Thomas Earl *** we will hope that, when this order was issued, *** *-a-sited the text of i-aiah, 58th chapter, oth verse, to *** * *-ription placed over the gate of Pendragon Castle, by ***** at Pembroke (I believe his Grandmother) at the time **te that structure, refers the reader. - And they that shill * * * *-tt tenu the old waste places: thou shalt raise to whe * of -a-, renerations, and thou shalt he called the repairer *****, * restorer of rath, to dreu a-- The Earl of Thanet, • *** ***...or of the Estates, with a due respect for the use*** **, ano-stors, and a proper sense of the value and beauty *** **as of antiquity, bas (I am told) given orders that *** * *-erved from all depredations.

*** *t of those numerous and noble feudal --

*** *nament to that interesting country.

Beaumont (Brother to the Dramatist), whose poems are wr

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* Ilow glad is Skipton at this hour— Though she is but a lonely Tower! To vacancy and silence left; Of all her Uuardian sons bereft— Knight, Squire, or Yeoman, Page or Groon; We have them at the Feast of Brough m. How glad Pendragon—though the sleep of years be on her!—She shall reap A taste of this great pleasure, viewing As in a dream her own renewing. Rejoiced is Brough, right glad I deem Beside her little humble Stream ; And she that keepeth watch and ward Her statelier Eden's course to guard; They both are happy at this hour, | Though each is but a lonely Tower: — But here is perfect joy and pride For one fair House by Emont's side, This day distinguished without peer |

To see her Master and to cheer; Ilim, and his Lady Mother dear!

« Oh! it was a time forlorn When the Fatherless was born— Give her wings that she may fly, Or she sees her Infant die! Swords that are with slaughter wild Hunt the Mother and the Child. Who will take them from the light : —Yonder is a Man in sight— Yonder is a House—but where : No, they must not enter there. To the Caves, and to the Brooks, To the Clouds of Heaven she looks; She is speechless, but her eyes Pray in thostly agonies. Blissful Mary, Mother mild, Maid and Mother undefiled,

Now who is he that bound, with joy On Carrock's side, a Shepherd Boy?

* This line is from the battle of Bosworth Field Ly Sir John en with

much spirit, elegance, and harmony; and have deservedly leen reprintel lately in Chalmer.'s Collection of English Poets.

t i i | Save a Mother and her Child !


No thoughts hath he but thoughts that pass
Light as the wind along the grass.
Can this be He who hither came
In secret, like a smothered flame?
O'er whom such thankful tears were shed
For shelter, and a poor Man's bread!
God loves the Child; and God hath willed
That those dear words should be fulfilled,
The Lady's words, when forced away,
The last she to her Babe did say,
“My own, my own, thy Fellow-guest
I may not be; but rest thee, rest,
For lowly Shepherd's life is best!"

« Alas! when evil men are strong No life is good, no pleasure long. The Boy must part from Mosedale's Groves, And leave Blencathara's rugged Coves, And quit the Flowers that Summer brings To Glenderamakin's lofty springs; Must vanish, and his careless cheer Be turned to heaviness and fear. —Give Sir Lancelot Threlkeld praise! Hear it, good Man, old in days Thou Tree of covert and of rest For this young Bird that is distrest; Among thy branches safe he lay, And he was free to sport and play, When Falcons were abroad for prey.

« A recreant Harp, that sings of fear And heaviness in Clifford's ear!. I said, when evil Men are strong, No life is good, no pleasure long, A weak and cowardly untruth ! Our Clifford was a happy Youth, And thankful through a weary time, That brought him up to manhood's prime. —Again he wanders forth at will, And tends a Flock from hill to hill: His garb is humble; ne'er was seen Such garb with such a noble mien ; Among the Shepherd-grooms no Mate Hath he, a Child of strength and state! Yet lacks not friends for solemn glee, And a cheerful company, That learned of him submissive ways; And comforted his private days. To his side the Fallow-deer Game, and rested without fear; The Eagle, Lord of land and sea, Stooped down to pay him fealty; And both the undying Fish that swim Through Bowscale-Tarn' did wait on him, The pair were Servants of his eye In their immortality; They moved about in open sight, To and fro, for his delight. He knew the Rocks which Angels haunt On the Mountains visitant; He hath kenned them taking wing: And the Caves where Faeries sing It is imagined by the people of the country, that there are two immortal fish, inhabitants of this Tarn, which lies in the mountains not far from Threlkeld.-Islencathara, mentioned before, is the old and proper name of the mountain vulgarly called Saddleback.

He hath entered ; and been told
By Voices how Men lived of old.
Among the Heavens his eye can see
Face of thing that is to be;
And, if Men report him right,
He could whisper words of might.
—Now another day is come,
Fitter hope, and nobler doom:
He hath thrown aside his Crook,
And hath buried deep his Book;
Armour rusting in his Halls
On the blood of Clifford calls;–"
“Quell the Scot, exclaims the Lance—
Bear me to the heart of France,
Is the longing of the Shield–
Tell thy name, thou trembling Field;
Field of death, where'er thou be,
Groan thou with our victory!
Happy day, and mighty hour,
When our Shepherd, in his power,
Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword,
To his Ancestors restored,
Like a re-Appearing Star,
Like a glory from afar,
First shall head the Flock of War on

Alas! the fervent Harper did not know
That for a tranquil Soul the Lay was framed,
Who, long compelled in humble walks to too.
Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed.

Love had he found in huts where poor Men lie;
slis daily Teachers had been Woods and Rills,
The silence that is in the starry sky,
The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

In him the savage Wirtue of the Race,
Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead:
Nor did he change; but kept in lofty place
The wisdom which adversity had bred.

Glad were the Wales, and every cottage hearth;
The Shepherd Lord was honoured more and more :
And, ages after he was laid in earth,
«The Good Lord Clifford» was the name he bore.

Yes, it was the mountain Echo, Solitary, clear, profound, Answering to the shouting Cuckoo, Giving to her sound for sound !

Unsolicited reply
To a babbling wanderer sent;
Like her ordinary cry,
Like—but oh how different

Hears not also mortal Life?
Hear not we, unthinking Creatures!
Slaves of Folly, Love, or Strife,
Voices of two different Natures?

'The martial character of the Cliffords is well known to the reaues of English history ; but it may not he improper here to sy, by way of comment on these line, and what follow... that, lesiu- ~ veral others who perished in the same manner, the four immediate Progenitors of the Person in whose hearing this is supposed to be spoken, all died in the Field.

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of custom, law, and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in Romance?
when Reason seemed the most to assert her rights,
When most intent on making of herself
A prime Enchantress—to assist the work,
Which then was going forward in her name!
Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth,
The beauty wore of promise—that which sets
(To take an image which was felt no doubt
Among the bowers of paradise itself)
The budding rose above the rose full blown.
What Temper at the prospect did not wake
To happiness unthought of? The inert
Were roused, and lively Natures rapt away!
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,
The playfellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtilty and strength
Their ministers, who in lordly wise had stirred
Among the grandest objects of the sense,
And dealt with whatsoever they found there
As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it;-they, too, who of gentle mood
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these
Ilad fitted their own thoughts, schemers more mild,
And in the region of their peaceful selves;–

Leave to the Nightingale her shady wood;
A privacy of glorious light is thine;
Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood

Of harmony, with rapture more divine;

True to the kindred points of Ileaven and Home!

It is no Spirit who from Heaven hath flown,
And is descending on his embassy;
Nur Traveller tone from Earth the Heavens to espy!
T is Hesperus—there he stands with glittering crown,
First admonition that the sun is down,
For yet it is broad daylight! clouds pass by ;
A few are near him still—and now the sky,
Ile hath it to himself—t is all his own.
o most ambitious Star! thy Presence brought
A startling recollection to my mind
of the distinguished few among mankind,
who dare to step beyond their natural race,
As thou seem'st now to do:—nor was a thought
Denied—that even I might one day trace
Some ground not mine; and, strong her strength above,
My Soul, an Apparition in the place,
Tread there, with steps that no one shall reprove'


as it appeared to Exthusiasts. At its covivienceMENT." meprixtEd FRom - The FRIEND."

On 1 pleasant exercise of hope and joy! For mighty were the Auxiliars, which then stood ("pon our side, we who were strong in love! Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven –Oh! times, in which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways

* This, and the Extract. Page as, and the first Piece of this Class. are from the unpublished Poem of which some account is given in ** Preface to the Exetasion.

Now was it that both found, the Meek and Lofty
Did both find helpers to their heart's desire,
And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish,_
were called upon to exercise their skill,
Not in Utopia, subterraneous Fields,-
Or some secreted Island, Heaven knows where!
Iłut in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us, the place where in the end
We find our happiness, or not at all!

O Dr. The PASS or klit Kstone.

Within the mind strong fancies work,
A deep delight the bosom thrills,
Oft as I pass along the fork
Of these fraternal hills:
Where, save the rugged road, we find
No appanage of human kind;
Nor hint of man, if stone or rock
Seem not his handy-work to mock
By something cognizably shaped;
Mockery—or model roughly hewn,
And left as if by earthquake strewn,
Or from the Flood escaped:—
Altars for druid service fit;
(But where no fire was ever lit,
Unless the glow-worm to the skies
Thence offer nightly sacrifice.)
Wrinkled Egyptian monument;
Green inoss-grown tower; or hoary tent;
Tents of a camp that never shall be raised:
On which four thousand years have gazed'

Ye plough-shares sparkling on the slopes!
Ye snow-white lambs that trip
Imprisoned mid the formal props
Of restless ownership!
Ye trees, that may to-morrow fall
To feed the insatiate Prodigal!

Lawns, houses, chattels, groves, and ficlas,
All that the fertile valley shields;
Wages of folly—baits of crime,
Of life's uneasy game the stake,
Playthings that keep the eyes awake
Of drowsy, dotard Time;—
O care! O guilt!–0 vales and plains,
Here, 'mid his own unvexed domains,
A Genius dwells, that can subdue

...At once all memory of You,

Most potent when mists veil the sky,
Mists that distort and magnify;
While the coarse rushes, to the sweeping breeze,
Sigh forth their ancient melodies!

List to those shriller notes!—that march
Perchance was on the blast,
When, through this Height's inverted arch,
Rome's earliest legion passed :
—They saw, adventurously impelled,
And older eyes than theirs beheld,
This block—and yon, whose Church-like frame
Gives to the savage Pass its name.
Aspiring Road that lov'st to hide
Thy daring in a vapoury bourn,
Not seldom may the hour return
When thou shalt be my Guide;
And I (as often we find cause,
When life is at a weary pause,
And we have panted up the hill
Of duty with reluctant will)
Be thankful, even though tired and faint,
For the rich bounties of Constraint;
Whence oft invigorating transports slow
That Choice lacked courage to bestow !

My Soul was grateful for delight
That wore a threatening brow;
A veil is lifted—can she slight
The scene that opens now !
Though habitation none appear,
The greenness tells, man must be there;
The shelter—that the pérspective
Is of the clime in which we live;
Where Toil pursues his daily round;
Where Pity sheds sweet tears, and Love,
In woodbine bower or birchen grove,
Inflicts his tender wound.
—Who comes not hither ne'er shall know
How beautiful the world below;
Nor can he guess how lightly leaps
The brook adown the rocky steeps.
Farewell, thou desolate Domain'
Hope, pointing to the cultured Plain,
Carols like a shepherd boy;
And who is she?–Can that be Joy!
Who, with a sunbeam for her guide,
Smoothly skims the meadows wide;
While Faith, from yonder opening cloud,
To hill and vale proclaims aloud,
« Whatc'er the weak may dread, the wicked dare,
Thy lot, O Man, is good, thy portion fair!»

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HAD this effulgence disappeared
With flying haste, I might have sent,
Among the speechless clouds, a look
Of blank astonishment;
But t is endued with power to stay,
And sanctify one closing day,
That frail Mortality may sce—
What is?—all no, but what can bel t
Time was when field and watery cove
With modulated echoes rang,
While choirs of fervent Angels sang
Their vespers in the grove;
Or, ranged like stars along some sovereign height,
Warbled, for heaven above and earth below,
Strains suitable to both.-Such holy rite,
Methinks, if audibly repeated now
From hill or valley, could not move
Sublimer transport, purer love,
Than doth this silent spectacle—the gleam—
The shadow—and the peace supreme!

No sound is uttered,—but a deep
And solemn harmony pervades
The hollow vale from steep to steep,
And penetrates the glades.
Far-distant images draw nigh,
Called forth by wondrous potency
Of beamy radiance, that imbues
Whateer it strikes, with gem-like hues'
In vision exquisitely clear,
Herds range along the mountain side;
And glistening antlers are descried;
And gilded flocks appear.
Thine is the tranquil hour, purpureal Eve:
But long as god-like wish, or hope divine,
Informs my spirit, ne'er can I believe
That this magnificence is wholly thine!
—From worlds not quickened by the sun
A portion of the gift is won;
An intermingling of Heaven's pomp is spread
On ground which British shepherds tread!

And, if there be whom broken ties
Afflict, or injuries assail,
Yon hazy ridges to their eyes
Present a glorious scale,
Climbing suffused with sunny air,
To stop—no record hath told where!
And tempting fancy to ascend,
Aud with immortal Spirits blend!

—Wings at my shoulder seem to play; "
But, rooted here, I stand and gaze
On those bright steps that heaven-ward raise
Their practicable way.
Come forth, ye drooping old men, look abroad,
And see to what fair countries we are bound!
And if some Traveller, weary of his road,
Hath slept since noon-tide on the grassy ground,

'In these lines I am under obligation to the exquisite picture of Jacob's Dream, by Mr Alstone, now in America. It is pleasant to make this public acknowledgment to a man of genius, whom I have the honour to rank among my friends.

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