Page:The Leadbeater Papers (1862) Vol 1.djvu/32
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18
THE ANNALS OF BALITORE.
[1766.
Our minds the pleasing prospect fills,
Environ'd by the distant hills;
Delightful hills, which gently rise,
And seem to kiss the bending skies.
Far as the eye can reach, we view
A tow'ring structure, fair and new ;
Then a contrasted scene behold,
A castle ruinous and old.
Contemplative, in these we find
Fit objects for the musing mind;
So generations pass away,
Born, rising, hast'ning to decay.
Onward our saunt'ring steps we bend,
And now the little bridge ascend:—
How sweet to stand and gaze around,
And listen to the dashing sound
Of the white wave, which foams along,
Tumbling the rugged stones among!
There rears that house its modest head,
Where my blest hours of childhood fled:
Amidst these bow'rs so sweet and gay
Sally and I were wont to stray ;
Nature's soft chain, with friendship twin'd,
Our sister hearts in one combin'd.
Here as a sheet of silver bright
The mill-pond charms the dazzled sight,
Deck'd with the sallow's hoary pride;
We walk admiring by its side.
We cross the dyke, the field we gain,
The fair Mill-field, a lovely plain:
But lovelier once, all gaily drest,
The cowslip gilding o'er her breast;
The ruthless plough her bosom tore,
The golden cowslip charms no more.
Environ'd by the distant hills;
Delightful hills, which gently rise,
And seem to kiss the bending skies.
Far as the eye can reach, we view
A tow'ring structure, fair and new ;
Then a contrasted scene behold,
A castle ruinous and old.
Contemplative, in these we find
Fit objects for the musing mind;
So generations pass away,
Born, rising, hast'ning to decay.
Onward our saunt'ring steps we bend,
And now the little bridge ascend:—
How sweet to stand and gaze around,
And listen to the dashing sound
Of the white wave, which foams along,
Tumbling the rugged stones among!
There rears that house its modest head,
Where my blest hours of childhood fled:
Amidst these bow'rs so sweet and gay
Sally and I were wont to stray ;
Nature's soft chain, with friendship twin'd,
Our sister hearts in one combin'd.
Here as a sheet of silver bright
The mill-pond charms the dazzled sight,
Deck'd with the sallow's hoary pride;
We walk admiring by its side.
We cross the dyke, the field we gain,
The fair Mill-field, a lovely plain:
But lovelier once, all gaily drest,
The cowslip gilding o'er her breast;
The ruthless plough her bosom tore,
The golden cowslip charms no more.