Which loves their grassy sides to lave, Now meet excursive Fancy's eye,

And with a sweet diversity

Break the wide level of the rippling

wave.

Ah! as thy varying scene I mark,

What cloud-clad rocks, what mountains huge

appear:

Here WALLOW frowns, with SKIDDAW in its

rear,

A vast stupendous mass! and, hark! Methinks I seem in Fancy's dream to hear

A deep majestic sound

Where wild woods ever wave 'mid fragments drear.

On breezes borne, that fan the day,
Now louder, and now louder roars

The hollow sound on KESWIC's shores,
As on I urge my way.-

Till led by Fancy to the impending shade,
O'ercanopied by melancholy rocks,

LODORE is seen to thunder thro' the glade,

And from the appalling steep with fearful shocks

To urge the fragment thro' the opening air,
Big with impending fate and deep despair
To Him, the unlucky wight, that wont to wander

near.

Tremendous flood!

Which flingst thy foam on many a fragment rude;

And bid'st the forest quake

And listening nature shake,

As down thou tumblest 'mid the humid wood.
For thee, her showers may summer send,
And still replenish every spring!
For thee, the lone Enthusiast's friend

Her wildest storms may winter bring! May many a mountain torrent mix with thine, And seek thy favourite haunt, sublimity divine!

What are the graces of the polish'd scene Where the wild form of Nature's sought in vain, Where artificial elegance is seen

A supplement to Beauty's beamy train ! What, when compar'd to LODORE's shade!

Here wanton Nature's boundless grace,

Fancy, sweet visionary maid,

Is often fondly seen to trace.

Here all the viewless forms that still
Awake the enthusiastic thrill;"

Here fairy phantoms that dispense
Rapture to sublimated sense,

Impart their highest influence

There, Dulness leaning on some statue near (Her emblem meet) wears out the insipid year, And talks of Nature with an ideot joy

While Nature, absent maid, ne'er blest her vacant eye.

ELEGY

ON LEAVING EXMOUTH.

August, 1794. FAREWEL, Sweet scenes familiar to mine eyes, Oft have I mark'd you with a transport blest; Tho' now no more for me your charms shall rise, Or give my soul a transitory rest.

Farewel, thou blue and ever restless main,

On whose clear breast yon bright orb sheds

While from the vault above with boundless reign, He proudly flames, the exulting LORD of day.

Farewel, ye little skiffs that calmly scud
With trembling white sail to each zephyr true
Along the wide and undulating flood;
Sweet fairy objects of a fairy view!

And you, ye proud majestic ships, that glide With swelling canvas, and with pennants gay, Stately and slow along the obedient tide,

No more for me ye plow your wat'ry way!

Farewel, the glowing sigh, the swelling thought,

The throb mysterious, and the tear so sweet; Farewel, the joys that inspiration brought, And Nature wild, in Solitude's retreat.

I haste, alas! from this unruffled main,
I haste from shores where sighs the placid

wave,

To scenes of moral misery and pain,

The billowy storms of busy life to brave.

Feelings of peace, ye melting thoughts, I go,
I go, with you to never more sojourn !
Day-dreams of sweet imaginary woe,
I quit your charms realities to mourn!