The rising shores a thousand charms bestow,
Lawns at their feet, and forests on their brow;
The pleasing villas, neighbours to the flood,
σ The taper spire, and the surrounding wood.
These lines, my C**, read, and pity too
The shadowing pencil to the scene untrue:
See the bright image of thy thought decay'd,
And all its beauties in description fade.
Where to each other the tall banks incline,
And distant cliffs dividing seem to join,
A narrow frith! our gallant Argo's way,
A door that opens to the boundless sea ;
What, if some ship with strutting sails come on,
Her wanton streamers waving in the sun!
Just in the midst, as fancy would contrive,
See the proud vessel o'er the billows drive.]
The streight is past; the waves more strongly beat,
The prospects widen, and the shores retreat, 30
Tritons, and Nereids! how we leave behind
Towns, palaces, and run with tide and wind?
Here, noble Stafford, thy unfinish'd dome,
And thence the long-stretch'd race of Berkeley come.
Till fossing, and full feasted more than tir'd,
We change the wilder scene for paths retir'd,
Quit the rough element, and watery strife,
As from a public to a private life,
Seek a calm coast, and up the channel ride,
Where Vaga mingles with Sabrina's tide.
The sister streams, from the same hill their source Deriving, took, when young, a various course, And, many a city, many a country seen,
High towers, and walls antique, and meadows green, Now glad to meet, nor now to part again,
Go hand in hand and slide into the main.
In spite of Time, and War, and Tempest, great, Ascending Chepstow shews its castled seat, Beneath slope hills, and by the rolling flood, Clasp'd in a theatre of aged wood,
With air majestic, to the eye stands forth,
Towering, and, conscious of its pristine worth,
Lifts its sublime decay, in age's pride
Erect, and overlooks the climbing tide.
Pass but some moments, the returning sea Shall those high-stranded vessels sweep away; That airy bridge, whence down we look'd with fear, Will low and level with the flood appear.
The crooked bank still winds to something new, Oars, scarcely turn'd, diversify the view; 6. Of trees and stone an intermingled scene, The shady precipice and rocky green, Nature behold, to please and to suprize, Swell into bastions, or in columns rise:
Here sinking spaces with dark boughs o'ergrown,
And there the naked quarries look a town.
At length our pilgrimage's home appears,
Tintern her venerable fabric, rears,
While the sun, mildly glancing in decline,
With his last gilding beautifies the shrine: 70
Enter with reverence her hallow'd gate,
And trace the glorious relics of her state ;
The meeting arches, pillar'd walks admire,
Or musing hearken to the silenc'd choir.
Encircling groves diffuse a solemn grace,
And dimly fill th' historic window's place;
While pitying shrubs on the bare summit try
To give the roofless pile a canopy.
Here, O my Friends, along the mossy dome In pleasurable sadness let us roam : Look back upon the world in haven safe, Weep o'er its ruins, at its follies laugh.
SIR HUMPHRY MACKWORTH,
On the Mines, late of Sir Carbery Prics.
WHAT Spacious veins enrich the British soil,
The various ores, and skilful miner's toil;
How ripening metals lie conceal'd in earth,
And teeming Nature forms the wondrous birth;
My useful verse, the first, transmits to fame,
In numbers tun'd, and no unhallow'd flame.
O generous Mackworth! could the Muse impart A labor worthy thy auspicious art;
Like thee succeed in paths untrod before,
And secret treasures of the land explore;
Apollo's self should on the labor smile,
And Delphi quit for Britain's fruitful isle.
Where fair Sabrina flows around the coast, And aged Dovey in the ocean's lost,
Her lofty brows unconquer'd Britain rears,
And fenc'd with rocks impregnable appears ;
Which like the well-fix'd bars of nature show,
To guard the treasures she conceals below.
For Earth, distorted with her pregnant womb,
Heaves up to give the forming embryo room; 20
Hence vast excrescences of hills arise,
And mountains swell to a portentous size.
Louring and black the rugged coast appears,
The sullen earth a gloomy surface wears;
Yet all beneath, deep as the centre, shines
With native wealth, and more than India's mines.
Thus erring Nature her defects supplies,
Indulgent oft to what her sons despise :
Oft in a rude, unfinish'd form, we find
The noblest treasure of a generous mind. 3
Thrice happy land! from whose indulgent womb, Such unexhausted stores of riches come! By heaven belov❜d! form'd by auspicious fate, To be above thy neighbouring nations great! Its golden sands no more shall Tagus boast, In Dovey's flood his rivall'd empire's lost; Whose waters now a nobler fund maintain, To humble France, and check the pride of Spain. Like Egypt's Nile the bounteous current shows, Dispersing blessings wheresoe'er it flows; Whose native treasure 's able to repair The long expences of our Gallic war.
|