Once, and domestic annals tell the time,

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

When Nature fmil'd, and o'er the landfcape threw Her richest fragrance, and her brightest hue, 220 A blithe and blooming Forefter explor'd

'Those nobler fcenes SALVATOR's foul ador'd;

The rocky pass half hung with fhaggy wood,

And the cleft oak flung boldly o'er the flood.

High on exulting wing the heath-cock rofe, 20 225 And blew his fhrill blaft o'er perennial fnows; When the rapt youth, recoiling from the roar,

Gaz'd on the tumbling tide of dread Lodoar;

And thro' the rifted cliffs, that scal'd the sky,

Derwent's clear mirror charm'd his dazzled eye.21 230

Each ofier ifle, inverted on the wave,

Thro' morn's

gray mist its melting colours gave;

And, o'er the cygnet's haunt, the mantling grove

Its emerald arch with wild luxuriance wove.

Light as the breeze that brush'd the orient dew, 235

From rock to rock the young adventurer flew;
And day's laft funshine flept along the shore,
When lo, a path the smile of welcome wore.
Imbowering shrubs with verdure veil'd the sky,

And on the musk-rose shed a deeper dye;

Save when a mild and momentary gleam

240

Glanc'd from the white foam of some shelter'd ftream.

O'er the still lake the bell of evening toll'd,

And on the moor the fhepherd penn'd his fold;
And on the green hill's fide the meteor play'd; 245
When, hark! a voice fung sweetly thro' the shade.

It ceas'd-yet ftill in FLORIO's fancy fung,"

Still on each note his captive spirit hung;
Till o'er the mead a cool, fequefter'd grot
From its rich roof a fparry luftre fhot.

A cryftal water crofs'd the pebbled floor,
And on the front these fimple lines it bore:

250

Hence away, nor dare intrude!

In this fecret, fhadowy cell

Mufing MEMORY loves to dwell,

With her fifter Solitude.

Far from the bufy world fhe flies,

To tafte that peace the world denies.

Entranc'd fhe fits; from youth to age,

Reviewing Life's eventful page;

And noting, ere they fade away,

.

The little lines of yesterday.

255

260

FLORIO had gain'd a rude and rocky feat,

When lo, the Genius of this ftill retreat!

Fair was her form-but who can hope to trace 265 The penfive foftnefs of her angel-face?

Can VIRGIL's verfe, can RAPHAEL's touch impart

Those finer features of the feeling heart,

Those tenderer tints that fhun the careless eye,

And in the world's contagious circle die?

270

She left the cave, nor mark'd the ftranger there;

Her paftoral beauty, and her artlefs air,

Had breath'd a foft enchantment o'er his foul!

In

every nerve he felt her bleft controul!

What pure and white-wing'd agents of the sky, 275 Who rule the fprings of facred sympathy,

Inform congenial fpirits when they meet?

Sweet is their office, as their nature sweet!

FLORIO, with fearful joy, pursued the maid,

'Till thro' a vista's moonlight-checquer'd shade, 280 Where the bat circled, and the rooks repos'd,

(Their wars fufpended, and their counfels clos'd) An antique manfion burft in awful state,

A rich vine clustering round its Gothic gate.

Nor paus'd he here. The mafter of the fcene 285
Mark'd his light step imprint the dewy green;
And, flow-advancing, hail'd him as his guest,

Won by the honeft warmth his looks exprefs'd.
He wore the ruftic manners of a 'Squire;

Age had not quench'd one fpark of manly fire; 290