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 ^ 

 
 BRENT KNOLL,
 
 cA'd 

 
 
 Rev. harry FARR YEATMAN, 
 
 BATCHELOR OF CIVIL LAW; 
 
 AND ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S JUSTICES OF THE PEACE 
 
 FOR THE COUNTIES OV 
 
 SOMERSET AND DORSET. 
 
 -- 
 
 " Xon semper feriel quodcunque minabitur areas." 
 " The bow tho' strung, will soraetimes fail to strike." 
 
 Hoe. Aut. Poet 
 
 ^ 
 
 E. Penny, Sherborne ; Longman, HunsT,& Co. Palcrnoster- 
 Row, and F. C. and J. Rivington, St. Paul's Church- 
 Yard, Loudoh ; and all otlier Booksellers. 
 
 1817.
 
 SuvRBonNE: 
 Printed bj James CruttwclL
 
 PR 
 5899 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 J[t may well be asked and with great pro- 
 priety, what could induce the Author to 
 intrude upon public notice a Work so very 
 trifling and imperfect as the present ; laying 
 claim to a more than common share of 
 indulgence on the one hand, without a simi- 
 lar, and corresponding proportion of ade- 
 quate merit on the other ? The only answer 
 he can give is this : he ventured to trust 
 that the motives* wliich 'induced him to 
 undertake it would be esteemed of sufficient, 
 if not paramount value in the absence of 
 those requisites which the enlightened critic, 
 and classical reader may justly demand and 
 wanting will condemn : he recollected that 
 
 * The Author propoies to transfer the profits of this Work, 
 to the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.
 
 VI 
 
 the meanest circumstances may be, and have 
 been selected to bring about, and to become 
 the causes of effecting the greatest designs : 
 he remembered that to the simple, and acci- 
 dental Fighting Of A Cock the victory over 
 Persia by TJiemistocles was attributable ; he 
 could not forget that the Reptile Viper was 
 chosen by St. Paul to be the instrument of 
 conversion to the idolatrous Melitese : and 
 he dared to hope that even Such IJnes As 
 His, may by tlic liberality of an indulgent 
 and charitable public and under tlie patron- 
 age of the above Venerable Society become 
 the means of converting sinners from the 
 error of their ways, and of Saving Alive 
 The Immortal Souls of thousands of his fel- 
 low creatures. 
 
 Stock -House, Dorset, 
 Jan. 1st, 1817.
 
 " Bat wben tlie place of our birth has been the scene 
 '' of our youthfal dajs, as well as of the enjoyments of onr 
 " mat urer years when it contains memorials of joy or of 
 " sorrow, connected with the roost interesting events of our 
 " lives, and when it has been the abiding place of our 
 " fathers and is still the depository of their remains, then 
 " we are attached to it as well by the ties of sympathy 
 <* and affection as by feelings of reverential regard." 
 
 Bristol Memorialist.
 
 BMENT KNOLL, 
 
 As some lorn traveller remote from hoin 
 Or 'midst the tented plain, or peaceful vale 
 Roaming with search inquisitive and wide 
 Through half the world, still of his native home 
 Raises the fond idea, and exults 5 
 
 At thought of youthful joys for ever fled; 
 So I revisit thee on Mem'ry's wing 
 (a) Lov'd Hill ! delighted to recall once more 
 A
 
 'Mid the wild tumults af the busy world 
 The softer scenes of innocence and youth ; 19 
 
 So I retrace the steps of early years 
 That oft have led me weary to thy brow 
 Impatient of restraint, and from thy height 
 Have ken'd in giddy wonder and amaze, 
 The varied beauties of thy scenes beneath. 15 
 
 What though the hours of infancy long past 
 Have led to riper years, and joys matur'd , 
 What though the range of passion or of pride; 
 The lusts of youth, or schemes of cooler age; 
 Though all we covet has been gain'd or more 20 
 These are the mornents that we all regret : 
 They seem delightful to the eye when past, 
 When present unestccm'd: 'tis the sweet hour 
 Of guiltless infancv we value all
 
 And value when 'tis gone-C*^ So prodigal is man 25 
 Of present good, of future unconcern'd. 
 
 " Come then bright maid, inviting Mem'ry come, 
 " And with thy aid support the youthful step, 
 " That dares adventurous to seek and sing 
 " What the rapt soul of Poesy alone 30 
 
 " Can see, and seeing sing: kind maid impart, 
 " Communicate, infuse, and giv thy Bard 
 " Some little portion of thy magic power 
 " That Poets pray for, and that some receive.'' 
 
 Aided by thee I climb the well-known path 55 
 Long winding to thy brow : up the high hill 
 Like wood-wild roebuck, or like mountain hare 
 I spring exulting, and like captive bird 
 A 2
 
 'A 
 
 JJurst froRi the fowler's net, triumphant rise*. ' 
 Rough thp ascent, abrupt the winding way : 40 
 Twas not the stream slow niurm'ring from above, 
 Nor winter torrents that have ceas'd to flow 
 Channell'd these steps irregular; go ask 
 The giddy throng, sweet-singing village maids 
 Seeking with bleached pjiil thy cooling grot 45 
 Sweet Lady of the Well ! W whose limpid stream 
 Erst as the drops of Heav'n the good and ill 
 Supplies alike go ask the shepherd swain 
 What fretted deep the path he oft has trod 
 At early morn; at lazy noon ; perchance 50 
 
 With readier step at dew-distilling eve, 
 And his loud laugh will mark his ignorance. 
 'Twas not the stream slow tnurm'ring from above. 
 Nor winter torrents that have ceas'd to flow
 
 Chaunell'd these steps irregular : for lo ! 55 
 
 Where yonder elms in gloomy shade embower'd. 
 
 Where the tall spire majestically plain 
 
 Hises to distant view there sleep the sons 
 
 Of early days, of brighter years long fled; 
 
 Who lov'd as we to climb thy mountain side 60 
 
 Whose furrow'd steps posterity have worn. 
 
 Tis true that thousands 'mid that dark-green- 
 waste 
 Sleep in the arms of Death: the stifled sob, 
 The swelUng tear of mournful relative, 
 With every pledge that recollected love, 65- 
 
 That hope, sincerity, or grief can yield, 
 Has round yon spot religion-like diff'us'd 
 A3
 
 The aweful gloom of sanctity ! but why 
 
 Whence this emotion of thy troubled soul ? 
 
 Say lias the thouglit of him thy soul best lov'd 70 
 
 Suffus'd thy altcr'd cheek : or near yon pile 
 
 In sainted sleep repose the lov'd remains 
 
 Of her thy soul ador'd, thy bosom wife, 
 
 Thy fond companion, or the early pledge 
 
 Of chaste affection, copy of herself? 75 
 
 Ah! 'tis a Father's gi"ave ! ("^J slow mould'ring there 
 
 In shade, in silence, solitude, and death, 
 
 Not unregretted sleep the lov'd remains 
 
 Of him that gave me birth : awaiting there 
 
 The aweful summons of his coming God, 80 
 
 His Saviour's call : The Archangelic Trump : 
 
 The Shout Of Ileav'nly Host re-echoed far 
 
 From shaking systems and from trembling worlds:
 
 'Till his glad soul shall reach the bright abodes 
 Of immortality ; the sacred spot 85 
 
 m 
 
 Where Heav'n's great multitude unnuraber'd stands. 
 Peace to thy shade, lov'd, honor'd parent peace ! 
 And thou all excellent, redeeming power 
 Oh! give me grace to emulate his worth, 
 W To walk like him the ways of righteousness, $0 
 Like him to live, like him regretted Die. 
 
 Turn we reluctant from the sacred theme 
 And leave the hailow'd spot : for beck'ning there 
 On yonder eminence, C*^^ (whose shelving sides 
 And sloping seat are proverb'd with a name 95 
 Expressive of it's form) inviting on 
 The pensive loiterer with kind rebuke 
 ]jIy glad companions stand: svith hasty step
 
 I urge mj lagging Muse : with thera I try *;. .' 
 To gain the proinis'd height, and all at once 100 
 Surmount the steep ascent : but here again . i 
 Some well'known object, some bewitching scene 
 Arrests ray devious sense : like her of old 
 Who on her way from Sodom's burning tow'rs 
 Turning to give one " long last ling'ring look " 105 
 On all she lov'd ; gazing with hurried eye 
 On falling edifice, on smoking dome 
 Curling with liquid fire, or Heav'n-shot flame, 
 (Tremendous judgement on a guilty world) 
 Stood a fix'd monument to future times, 110 
 
 Her life-blood curdled, and her heart a stone. 
 Oh ! 'tis the spot long lov'd, rememher'd more. 
 Seat of my youth, of every early joy. 
 Parental residence! the poor man here
 
 Found ever refuge in the hour of woe; 115 
 
 The sick man comfort ; the afflicted peace ; 
 The hand that cherish'd ; and the soul that felt : 
 Food for the hungry: for the naked warmth : 
 Balm for the wounded soul applied by him 
 Who from their purest source drew clear and 
 deep 120 
 
 The streams of comfort, and dispens'd to all 
 The joys reveal'd to, Valued by himself. 
 Nor are these blessings lost : for stedfast there 
 Warm, zealous, diligent, fulfilling well 
 The active duties, the deputed trust, 125 
 
 Watching with anxious eye the ranging flock 
 Beset with danger, or approaching slow 
 The certain, silent ruin of the grave 
 Lives a good Shepherd still, (s) Oh! may his voice
 
 le 
 
 Alarm, direct^ save thousands from their fall. 130 
 
 Where shall the grateful Muse next bend her 
 
 way, 
 Where now enraptur'd turn ? Wide stretching 
 
 round 
 
 A thousand beauties charm the wand'ring eye ! 
 
 Nor sloping vale, nor wand'ring herd in quest 
 
 Of cool retreat, nor reed-roof d cot embow'r'd 135 
 
 In tufted orchard, yielding to the eye 
 
 Best proof of growing industry and wealth: 
 
 Nor tangled coppice, nor meand'ring stream 
 
 Rolling it's tributary waters on 
 
 To swell proud Severn's tide : nor raoss-clad tow'r 
 
 140 
 Nor distant hill are wanting to complete 
 
 The varied landscape. Here in truth are seen
 
 All that the Poet can describe, or sing 
 
 As once thy fam'd behest, delightful vale 
 
 Thessalian Tempe ! and in sober truth 145 
 
 Reason approves the song. For what had he 
 
 But cooling shades, with gentle zephyrs wav'd, 
 
 Rich fertile fields, and self-productive plains 
 
 To clothe in pomp of poetry, and boast 
 
 As her peculiar lot? Nature for her 150 
 
 Ne'er shed a richer influence, nor bless'd 
 
 With readier hand the labours of the soil. 
 
 Arriv'd at length, and on thy summit stood 
 
 Here let me gaze bewilder'd with delight: 
 
 Here lowly kneeling on this grassy sod, 155 
 
 On this meet altar, up to Nature's God 
 
 Raise the soft song of praise. The swelling soul 
 
 Of pure devotion j and the beaming eye
 
 Of more than common gratitude in man 
 
 For joys bestow'd, for miseries withheld, i6q 
 
 For all we have, and have not prompts the theme. . 
 
 Look then proud man as far as eye can reach. 
 
 And in imagination's shadowy glass 
 
 Paint the great world beyond it: Nature's God 
 
 On every wreck, and particle, and point 1^5 
 
 Of finite matter hath impress'd his name 
 
 The form and pressure of Omnipotence. 
 
 For thee it was he made this cheq'red globe^. 
 
 Shap'd and compress'd to unity of form 
 
 An heap of ruins to a sightly mass : I70 
 
 O'er the dark waters of eternal night 
 
 The hov'ring spirit of existence sent 
 
 And light and life arose : a paradise therein 
 
 Where all was lovely : where the ear and eye
 
 13 
 
 Met what it mostdesir'd: where all was found 17S 
 
 That sense could covet: appetite suggest, 
 
 Labour desire, or recreation want. 
 
 Nor did he limit thus, or only yield 
 
 A world of wonders and a life of love. 
 
 For thee it was the mysteries of Heav'n 180 
 
 Were registeT*d on earth : recorded here 
 
 The godlike virtues of Messiah shone, 
 
 Urging mankind to rise and follow him 
 
 O'er the rough paths of trial and distress. 
 
 Triumphantly to win the crown of life 1S5 
 
 That never endeth : through the darksome scene 
 
 Bright beaming shone the everlasting truth 
 
 Of gospel wisdom, that directs and saves 
 
 The shiv'iing soul of shipwrcck'd man; and points 
 
 'Mid all the changes of created worlds 1 00
 
 14 
 
 To one unchanging Heav'n : where joy and life 
 Perpetual joy, and never-fading life 
 Await his glad approach. If such his gift, f 
 
 What then the universal parents praise ? 
 
 Here the proud chiefs of generations gone 195 
 
 The prime and excellence of many lands 
 
 And years, and centuries have stood : here felt 
 
 Within their noble souls that heav'd elate 
 
 With thrilling sense of their own mightiness 
 
 All the proud hopes that youthful hearts now feel. 
 
 200 
 And where are they r in what safe custody 
 
 Or sacred archive, trcasur'd up and seal'd 
 
 With more than common vigilance reside 
 
 Their semblance, title, pedigree, or name ? 
 
 Where are the monuments that quaintly tell 20.5
 
 15 
 
 Of what their strengtli alchiev'd, their wisdom 
 
 plann'd, 
 Their virtue won, or charity preserv'd? 
 Alas ! obscure and honourless are they ! 
 In the cold chambers of oblivious death, 
 That in their dark recess receive and hold 210 
 
 The countless millions who daily die. 
 Unsung, unwept, unchronicled, unknown 
 Their life of glory, and their deeds uf death 
 Forgotten soon as wrought, entomb'd are they, 
 Proving the insufficiency of life, 215 
 
 And such strange emptiness in fame besides. 
 As ought to hun;ble well the soul of man. 
 But the black, heavy stream oblivion rolls, 
 And urges o'er events and characters; 
 Blotting away all iruce and memory; 220
 
 i6 
 
 Has left as 'twere some fragment in the deep ' 
 For shipwreck'd fame to cling to, and survive. 
 Tradition, history, and here and there 
 Some ancient relic which the wond'ring clown 
 Picks from the quarry's depth, or field fresh 
 plough'd 225 
 
 Confirm that once on this same spot of old 
 Good Alfred wav'd his standard in the breeze; 
 And for his country's good and liberty 
 Unsheath'd the sword that conq'red but to save. 
 
 Fierce as Norwegian wolves let loose at once 
 
 230 
 When darkness shades the desert, wood and hill 
 
 And wilderness less wild ; intent on blood 
 
 And with sharp hungry cries in jostling packs 
 
 Driving along o'er precipice and plain
 
 n 
 
 To glut their greedy maw: so wilder once 235 
 Pining witli lust of avarice and pow'r 
 The savage Roman rout, freebooters they 
 Invaded these rich plains; and won at length 
 But not unbought the scite of this fair hill. 
 Methinks I see their hardy legions climb 240 
 
 Thy steep and ridgy side; hunger behind 
 And love of rapine in the van, and first 
 And hottest stimulus : aloft they bear 
 The broad and spreading eagle, waving wide 
 His dark and sable plumage in the wind, 245 
 
 Rome's fierce and haughty standard; emblem meet 
 Of iheir rapacity. Hark now I iiear 
 Their savage shouts of merrinierit and joy, 
 Breathing defiance ; vulgar joke and gibe 
 D
 
 IS 
 
 And scoff and blasphemy: in square and file 250 
 And close array they form upon thy top : 
 With greedy gaze and lustful appetite 
 Marking thy peacelul vales, and lowing herds 
 And seats of innocence where rude, but bless'd 
 Our brave forefathers liv'd, devouring all 255 
 
 At one wide view: how little reckon'd they 
 On native valour, enterprise, and death : 
 IIow little dream'd that for their native woods, 
 Their homes, their altars, relatives and friends, 
 Sires, children, wives, and liberty, and life 26d 
 Even Barbarians, ^^ though untaught as they 
 NVilh more than R,oman hardihood would die. 
 
 Sweet and refreshing to the sun-shot eye 
 Are Shipm-t's shady i^iov-cs, whose branching arms
 
 19 
 
 Entwine with cool embrace, and shag with green 
 
 265 
 Old Mendip's sultry sides: meet contrast this 
 
 With yonder rugged hill, where Nature frowns 
 
 In all her dread deformity of waste. 
 
 Yet the judicious eye will scan e'en here 
 
 Peculiar beauties; will select and sing 270 
 
 New proofs of Heav'nly Wisdom. True it is 
 
 No verdure crowns the head of yonder peak CO 
 
 Up-heaving through the scanty turf that clings 
 
 With fibrous closeness rears in masses great 
 
 Diversified, and wild the granite rock. 275 
 
 No daisy studs with silvery sheen the spot. 
 
 Nor giltcup waves her golden hues around : 
 
 The wldow'd Orcas struggles with her life 
 
 To hold her solitary station, drench'd 
 
 B 2
 
 20 
 
 With wintry rain, with wiUer tempest driv'n, 280 
 
 Or scorch'd by Summer suns : the lichen hers 
 
 With parasitic art in vain essays 
 
 To earn it's scanty livelihood and dies; 
 
 But man with chemic industry and skill 
 
 Subdues by fire th' unshapely mass, and thence 285 
 
 With antiseptic, fertilizing pow'rs 
 
 Attempers well the heavier soil beneath. 
 
 Such are the rich, and goodly means which he 
 
 Extracts from sheer sterility and makes 
 
 The barren rock the spring of life become, 290 
 
 Lo ? Cbeddar's tow'ring cliffs next rise to view 
 Irregularly grand: wide yawning there 
 From Mendii''s deepest base the dread abyss 
 Threatens to swallow quick with hungry haste
 
 81 
 
 The startled traveller, who fears engulph'd 29S 
 Under each nodding precipice to fall 
 Entomb'd for ever : erst like him of old 
 Quirinal Curtius, W zealous for'the land 
 That gave him birth, or fir'd with godlike love 
 For Rome's high glory : anxious to appease 300 
 Immortal anger, and to save from death 
 Friends, temples, city, relatives and all 
 That life, or love could win : regardless he 
 Into the closing gulph triumphant plung'd 
 Headlong for death and victory. But say ^'^ 305 
 How, whence this chasm arose? Did Nature first 
 In fierce, or playful mood dislodge and fling 
 Yon solid rocks from off their iron base 
 With force centrifugal; with horrid crash 
 B 3
 
 22 
 
 Tearing in twain the rife and stubborn ribs 3iO 
 Of hills more hard than brass ; which 'till that 
 
 hour 
 Nor lightning's flash, nor thunderbolt had scar'd. 
 With shivering influence driv'n ? or say 
 Did torrents rushing from the clouds of Ileav'n 
 When God provok'd at violated laws, 315 
 
 At man's impiety (apostate sons 
 Children rebellious to their loving sire) 
 In one wide deluge cover'd earth and sea 
 Sweeping away all animated things; 
 By One Great Sacrifice Of All That Breathed 320 
 Appeasing iiijiir'd love: did the wild waves 
 Raging with savage lust, pent back, and swoln 
 By that high barrier all at once break through 
 The solid rock, and desolate the vale
 
 33 
 
 That lifeful smU'd beneath ? Whatever cause 325 
 
 Or pow'r, or influence such wonder wrought; 
 
 Posterity discerns with mingled awe. 
 
 And lowly reverence 'midst all that is, 
 
 The matchless tracery of Hands Divine ! 
 
 Xor are the blenched rocks that here aslant 330 
 
 Seem tumbling on our heads, nor those supine 
 
 In easier forms dispos'd, with naked waste 
 
 Or dearth of foliage bare: the blushing pink () 
 
 Here grows peculiar, in some crevice drop'd 
 
 Perchance by pilfering linnet, or twiripe 335 
 
 Shook by the gentle breeze self-sown and thence 
 
 With atmospheric nourishment supplied, 
 
 In native hardihood uprears it's head. 
 
 In graceful folds the wand'ring ivy spreads 
 
 Her well-hung tresses, with inviting turn 340
 
 24 
 
 Courting the zephyrs' love, and cool embrace; \ 
 Or in her bow'r with shelt'ring skreen, and close 
 Hiding the curtain'd brood of peering hawk, 
 Pert daw, or wheeling kite, that with loud cries 
 Poise hov'ring o'er the spot, or try to lure 345 
 
 With artful trick the idle gazer on. 
 Here where the straggling sheep in quest of herb, 
 Wild mint or vetch perennial, from above 
 lias crumbled down in cavities that lodge 
 Half way the giddy height a shallow bed 350 
 
 Few particles of earth ; the hardy ash 
 Tow'rs o'er it's fellows, and with livelier green 
 Freshens the wearied eye thai upward strains 
 To scan it's fearful scite : there from yon rock 
 Whose chrystal cell and cooling grotto woes 355 
 The traveller to rest, distills a stream
 
 25 
 
 As clear and cool as far-fam'd Helicon, ^"' 
 
 Or nathless coveted by thirsty bards 
 
 Castalia's fountain, whose pellucid rill 
 
 In gurgling murmurs trickles o'er it's bed 360 
 
 Soothing the soul to gentleness and peace. 
 
 If such thy beauties, and ten thousand more 
 
 Well may the Muse with ling'ring pace and slow 
 
 Retrace the steps that lead her from thy shades. 
 
 Skimming with rapid eye o'er fertile vales 365 
 Bounded by Mendip's bold and swelling ridge; 
 Here green with wood, there white with waving 
 
 corn, 
 Whilst lowing herds, and bleating flocks recall 
 Primaeval wealtli, simplicity, and peace 
 Alas! more sought than known -. behoM afar 370
 
 26 
 
 Veil'd in the majesty of distance stands 
 
 St. Michael's sacred Torr: where ages back 
 
 So grave tradition tells, from Holy Land 
 
 St. Joseph bent his way and with rude hands 
 
 But piously and sad for loss of him S/oi 
 
 Whom from the Cross he took (Messiah's Self) 
 
 With wreathed twigs, and wattles interwove 
 
 With well-wrought clay an oratory rais'd 
 
 To Her who bore the Saviour of the World; 
 
 The Blessed Virgin consecrate : the Cross 380 
 
 Then first erected in this savage isle, 
 
 Like Moses' Brazen Rod, soon swallow'd up 
 
 The superstitious monsters, and grim forms 
 
 Of Gods Druidical; and o'er the land 
 
 Diffus'd tlie blessed rays of learning, peace 385 
 
 Enlighten'd truth, and everlasting love.
 
 27 
 
 Let not the Muse detail in tneasur'd words 
 
 The blood-red history, the secret rites, 
 
 The acts profane, the mysteries, the shame 
 
 Of yonder Abbey ; and wljich after times 390 
 
 And cunning Priestcraft fawn'd upon the world 
 
 Too credulous to doubt, too blind to see, 
 
 Too powerless to cure; which thriv'd 'till he(5 
 
 Rapacious Harry with Herculean strength 
 
 Cleans'd the Augaean Stall, and dragg'd to day 39^ 
 
 The struggling monster; which reviving yet 
 
 Held in his witchery the willing world 
 
 Till Reformation's sharjvedg'd sword in twain 
 
 The magic chain dibsolv'd, and men releas'd 
 
 Smil'd at the flimsy web that held them bound. 400 
 
 Those days are gone; thanks to the chosen few 
 
 Who with their lives such benefits atchiev'd
 
 28 
 
 And with their martyr-blood re-seal'd the same. 
 Farewell Proud Ruin ; Cp) would the driving: rains 
 And snow so colourless which countless years 405 
 Have show'r'd upon your stones, could bleach away 
 The deadly trespasses, the living sins -' 
 That future judgement must record 'gainst those 
 ^Yho once inhabited thy stately walls ! 
 
 From scenes of guilt, and barh'rous pomp, and 
 shew 410 
 
 Of what the soul felt not; mocking the eye 
 With semblance of Religion, but within 
 Than wolves more ravenous, than dogs obscene. 
 How good to turn and (driving hence such thoughts) 
 O'er the horizon's utuiost verge to ken 415 
 
 ^1^ Kixcweston's tow'riiig woods, the seat of him
 
 29 
 
 Whose stern integrity, and well-carn'd fame 
 
 Or in the senate, or in private life 
 
 Stands keener scrutiny, and claims withal 
 
 More praise than lines like these can feign to give. 
 
 420 
 
 More distant slill, and capp'd with tow'r and 
 tree 
 Rises proud Mon'taclte's " sweet sainted hill;" 
 Oft sung by those more skill'd than I to sing 
 It's various beauties; but by none more free 
 In grateful verse though humble, to record 425 
 It's owner's honour'd name, W who lives belov'd 
 To hospitality, and virtue dear. 
 
 How sad to change the theme from peace to 
 war :
 
 30 
 
 To call the mind from present happiness 
 
 Back to the days of perilous emprise 430 
 
 Rebellion, bloodshed, cruelty, despair; 
 
 A nation suff'ring for the fault of one, 
 
 And he not worth the waste of so much blood, 
 
 Or injur'd virtue: how much sadder still 
 
 To see Religion in the van push'd on ^'^ 435 
 
 By lust of pow'r, and avarice, as fit 
 
 For knaves and mountebanks to ride upon, 
 
 Up to the goal they wish : to see the scheme 
 
 Of man's redemption, and the banner'd cross 
 
 (Uprear'd by Him who came to sure the world) 440 
 
 Unfurl'd for purposes of war, and drench'd 
 
 Tn human blood, from millions of men 
 
 Reeking in waste as profitless as drops 
 
 That chace each other from the dripping leaf
 
 31 
 
 After autumnal show'r. Oh Sedgemoor say 445 
 
 For thou hast witnessed such a scene ; hast felt 
 
 The shock of armies rushing on to death: 
 
 Hast heard the wail of wounded sufferer 
 
 Writhing in bitter pains : hast heard the cry 
 
 Of madden'd conqueror with rapid haste 450 
 
 Driving along to victory : hast seen 
 
 Friend, fatlier, brother, relative, and son 
 
 In one commingled heap of carcasses 
 
 Struggling in death lie quiv'ring on thy sod : 
 
 And when the horrid din has past away 455 
 
 Into night's dreary solitude hast known 
 
 More than sepulchral loneliness; Oh say 
 
 If man's unholy purpose can atchieve 
 
 A thing more terrible, or fancy sketch 
 
 A heap of ruins more unfit to see. A6o
 
 32 
 
 So Monmouth fell ! but o'er that fatal day. 
 And o'er his wretched race 'twere well to draw 
 With pious hand oblivion's closest veil. 
 
 Involv'd in smoke Bridgewater's tow'rs dim 
 seen 
 And crowded masts to other scenes invite 465 
 
 The musing mind : here Commerce with her crowd 
 Of busy merchants, toiling mariners 
 And those on gain intent, from year to year 
 Plies her incessant sail, that to and fro 
 From distant regions wafts the luxuries 470 
 
 That modern Britons covet, and apply 
 To their choice appetite : unlike of old 
 Their hard forefathers, who with hmbs pain-proof 
 'Gainst the inclement sky, scant covering
 
 33 
 
 Of sun-dried WOlf-skin, or nide gaftnent spun 475 
 Of coarsest texture from the rough goat's hair 
 Deem'd alUsufficient; from the vrintry brook 
 Dipping their morning draught, that now forsooth 
 Distills from hissing urn ; and their repast 
 The haw, or acorn roixt with milk, or rare 480 
 The flesh of beast fresh hunted : knowing not, 
 The long unhealthy list that these new days W 
 Present of sauces, cookery, ragouts 
 And such unwholesome trash, pampering the lust 
 Of sickly glutton, and engendering 485 
 
 A world of woe on our degen'rate race. 
 
 And such were they who once on yonder hills 
 Outstood the fierce invasion of the foes 
 C
 
 54 
 
 TKat conq'red England : Saxon, Roman, Dane 
 
 And bold Norwegian ; to their rugged caves 49^ 
 
 And native mountains, precipices, u-oods 
 
 And rocks retiring; where 'mid war's alarms, 
 
 Impending servitude, and threaten'd death 
 
 The proud unconquer'd spirit that inflates 
 
 And ijlls the soul of Liberty long liv'd : 495 
 
 And in remote thongh vig'rous stream now swells 
 
 The heaving heart of those, who drew from them 
 
 Tlieir pure descent, and who like them have prov'd 
 
 That ancient Britons when their country calls 
 
 Can go to conquer in the fields of tame. 500 
 
 Adieu ye distant hills : to love of life 
 
 To pure unsullied honour, liberty, 
 
 And national defence (the principle 
 
 And serni of that sole courage tliat enshrines
 
 35 
 
 The heart of native innocence and makes 505 
 
 Each hoqest man more competent than scores 
 
 Of shiv'ring, fearful villains though encas'd 
 
 In all the cheated goods this world can give :) 
 
 A long, and lasting monument are ye 
 
 As some red beacon to point out the path 510 
 
 That leads to immortality of fame ! 
 
 How strange yet just, capricious yet exact. 
 And fair i Nature in her gifts to man 
 And dispensations : 'tis tlie whistling clown 
 Starts at the wind, and trembles at the storm; 515 
 Wliilit calm and sooth'd the philosophic eye 
 J\Jidst lightning's glare?, and thunder's awful roar 
 Discerns with gratitude that Pow'r alone 
 C 3
 
 36 
 
 Which saves, and clears the atmosphere from harm. 
 So on ol(J Qu^ktock's top, and arching brow 520 
 Nor rich wjih herb, nor shady tree, nor shrub 
 Of sweet or rarer growth the vulgar eye 
 Sees nought but barrenness, a desert wild, 
 A dreary waste^ sad, degolate, and wide. 
 But the enquiring sage will mark and scan 525 
 Sweet srenes, and beauties here; which velvet 
 
 lawn, 
 Cool shady wood, and dark cnihower'd dell 
 Nor know, nor furaisn ; here the heath-bell blows 
 In sweet and lovely singleness of hue, 
 Perfume and nature; here in lighter green 530 
 The clust'ring fern her annual beauty shews. 
 Loving the warm and genial breath, and heat 
 Of Summer suns; but perishing again
 
 37 
 
 As the rude Winter blast nips close, and chill 
 
 Her crisp and tender shoot : the Blackcock here 
 
 535 
 In native wildness roams around his hills, 
 
 Snatching with scooped bill the trembling drop 
 
 Of early dew, or from it's pliant stem * 
 
 The purple wild-whort yielding rich repast 
 
 The poor man's harvest, liberally sown 5-it> 
 
 And cuH'd with equal care, Benealh the spd. 
 
 How poor soe'er it may it matters not, 
 
 What hidden treasures lie ! what heaps of wealth ! 
 
 What mines fuU-frauglit, accumulated, rich, 
 
 And streak'd with veins of ore! From hence are 
 
 drawa 545 
 
 All that supplies the avarice of man. 
 
 The mcde of labour, industry, and skill; 
 
 C 3
 
 38 
 
 The works of art, mechanical, coinplex, 
 
 Or rude, and simple : hence are drawn the stores 
 
 Of national resource, that shap'd and stamp'd 550 
 
 Keccive the name and character of coin. 
 
 Conventional and fix'd : decreed by man 
 
 And ratified by law. the medium this 
 
 Of fair exchange, or barter; kbour's price ; 
 
 Virtue's reward ; and poverty's support. 555 
 
 Nor are these barren hills, and lonely scenes 
 
 That seem so cheerless to the vulga^eyc, 
 
 And those untie'd to court the landscape's view," 
 
 Here wild with wood, there rich with fertile field, 
 
 Bounded by hill, or niark'd with winding, stream ; 
 
 5()0 
 These are not stretcii'd in tiresome waste, nor fill 
 
 The vast expanse that terminates around 
 
 The eye's delicious range : extended here
 
 39 
 
 Mark yonder wood high tow'ring on the right 
 
 How rich with green of every tint and hue ! 563 
 
 The pine's deep gloom, the chesnut's lighter shade 
 
 And the huge branching oak that dark and full 
 
 O'erhangs and sonabres all : the turret grey 
 
 That peeps as 'twere high reaching to be seen 
 
 And tries to lure us there: the lazy herd ^O 
 
 Of dappled deer supine on yonder hill 
 
 Or with amaz'd and anxious look intent 
 
 On man's intrusive step; St. Audries seat ^^"^ 
 
 And richly che.q'red garniture of scene : 
 
 The passing sail, the distant sea illum'd 575 
 
 With bright reflected multitude of suns 
 
 Toss'd back from wave to wave : the dim seen hilf* 
 
 On yonder coast of blue, fantastic shape 
 
 That ^most ciock the siizlil in IIa!o lost 
 
 /'
 
 These are the rich and lovely images - 50 
 
 Wh\ch Quantock's rude, and lonely vvild ^qducc 
 -Thiit fornj the taste, and lift the soul of naan. ; < 
 
 Nor let the Muse forget to point the way 
 To where proud Alired's Tow'r stands far ami 
 
 high, 
 And rais'd in noble eminence supreme 5S5 
 
 O'er hill, and wood, and vale, and distant town ; 
 O'er-topping all beneath it's ample range 
 And exercise of sight. Fit monument 
 And worthy tribute to such worth as his 
 And rarest excellence : in barb'rous ag 55)0. 
 
 When learning shed her feeble influence 
 Amid a world unqualified to judge 
 Or reap withal such merit for it's good ;
 
 ^1 
 
 A* costly lump in lonely scpulcfire, 
 
 Or sainted shrine \yasting it's brilliant rays 59S 
 
 On heartless inaages, and marble saints 
 
 Or cold unwholesome tombs; &q he retail'd 
 
 Amidst an hungry race the precious crumbs 
 
 Of saving knowledge; purified the mind; 
 
 Purged from ignorance th' unletter'd herd 600 
 
 Of coarse and vulgar boors -. establish'd laws 
 
 Which well became a llb'ral Prince to give 
 
 And subjects free and civiliz'd to use. 
 
 Here 'mid the depths of solitude, and wilds, 
 
 And trackless woods unvisited by man, OOS 
 
 Or sun's meridian ray ; the watchful King 
 
 Renowned Alfred, enterprising, bold 
 
 And ever thoughtful of his Country's good- 
 
 Convsn'd the haxdy band,, and trusty fcvr
 
 4S 
 
 Of his choice followers. How Wisdom plan'd, 6lQ 
 How Honour ui;i'c1, how Eloquence prevaii'd 
 I wot not : but in arms at one inipulse 
 Forth rush'd the busy Clans: each deep recess 
 M And glen, and woodland height, and mountain 
 
 cave 
 As 'twere in labour travailing procluc'd 6l5 
 
 An arm'd and lusty Company: brave men 
 On Death and Liberty devoted ail. 
 Nor less alert and resolute the hordes 
 That held dominion here : the roving Danes 
 TJrg'd on by ravenous desire of gaiu, C'i() 
 
 And love of these domains: impress'd with fear 
 Of loosing all this goodly heritage, 
 And (dread alternative) their rights at homer 
 Up to the battle's front, and foremost rank
 
 4$ 
 
 Tearless of death, and desperate of life 625 
 
 They mov'd in close array. But who can tell 
 
 The fev'rish hopes, and chilling fears that shook 
 
 The hearts of those compeers? The rapid tread 
 
 Of mingled host, the harsh convulsive twang 
 
 Of sounding bows: the horrid war-whoop heard 
 
 630 
 Through wood and wilderness 'till all awake 
 
 The startled wolf half-rear'd from off his lair, 
 
 ISelhought him press'd by all the hunter rout 
 
 And breathless gaz'd again: the reeling haste 
 
 Of flying enemy, or closing rank 635 
 
 lOr proud, elate, victorious conqueror; 
 
 The ghastly heaps, the red unsightly streams 
 
 Of hot or clotted blood that roll along 
 
 Or dam the matted grass: the shouts of joy; 
 
 The shrill or saiother'd cries of dying men 640
 
 4i 
 
 And sounds of deep lament : ah who can tell 
 The tale of that dread day? suffice to know 
 That British valour triuraph'd o'er it's foes 
 And history marks near CEtheldune the spot 
 Where England conq'red, and where Alfred won. 
 
 'Tis fit that we degen'rate sons mayhftp 
 But not devoid of gratitude should praise 
 What the munificence, and splendid taste 
 Of our forefathers wrought: and chiefly His ^^ 
 Who to commemorate the glorious deeds 650 
 
 And noble exercise in peace and war 
 Of rarest virtues, singular behests : 
 ilear'd the proud column's everlasting strength 
 And mightiness of form : fit tribute this
 
 u 
 
 To Alfred's glory : and not less ascribed 655 
 To His Good Fame who sanctified such worth. 
 
 I love to hear the wild hound's thrilling cry 
 
 Burst from yon coppice, or in tangled brake 
 
 Or fern-fring'd glen, or lonely dell from whence 
 
 Starts the rous'd chace when his glad fellows join 
 
 660 
 In one sweet unison of tuneful joy. 
 
 Now o'er the hill methinks I see them speed. 
 
 Snuffing with greedy haste the tainted air 
 
 Rich with delicious scent, (more sweet to them 
 
 Than I^DIA's spicy gales to thos^ that plough 665 
 
 The distant wave for wealth) straining each nerve 
 
 In wild anxiety, and flush'd with hope 
 
 That leads them on, and cheers their weary way : 
 
 Now down the stccpy hcigiit with headlong haste
 
 Rushing tumultuous, as the tumbling flood ^7^ 
 
 Of some wide waterfall, increas'd and swell'd 
 
 By mountain torrent, or with vernal show'r 
 
 Rolling along precipitous. But hold ! 
 
 Doubling they turn to thread the secret meuse 
 
 O'ershot in eagerness, and with loud cries 6~5 
 
 Soothing the ravish'd sense again at once 
 
 Express the blissful ecstacy they feel. 
 
 Hark ! through the wood the trembling echo ring*;, 
 
 Startling the fabled Dryades that haunt 
 
 Each shady covert, strangest mysteries 680 
 
 Holding beneath the full-orb'd moon that hangs 
 
 Ehraptur'd o'er their rites : now iumters shout. 
 
 And mellow horn in one loud chorus swells. 
 
 Delightful melody ! oh hark again 
 
 And let me catch the last sweet sound that faint 
 
 (iS5
 
 4? 
 
 Sera dy'mg on the ear, as sad mischance, ! 
 
 Or welcome death concludes the busy chase.; 
 
 And such is man's strange hunt for happiness". 
 Or what the world calls bliss. To-day enrich'd 
 With precious gleams of hope, and health and 
 strength 69O 
 
 Forth to the chase he goes : climbs the high hill 
 That Fame points out, the very pinnacle > 
 
 Of all this world's desire: or quick pursues 
 Ambition's fleeting shade that oft eludes 
 The most advent'rous follower: now chang'd 695 
 L'pstartI a comelier form, bedizen'd out 
 In glitl'ring beauty, and array'd withal 
 In such bewitching loveliness as few 
 Can gazing cease to win ; so Fortune lures
 
 4B 
 
 Her poor pursuers on, then with one bouod 700 
 Starts from their view, and leaves them lost behind. 
 
 After such hot and sultry day how good 
 And cool the evening comes : or bringing down 
 Dew to each thirsty plant with pores wide ope 
 Inhaling nourishment, or as desir'd 705 
 
 Sleep to the heavy lid, and drowsy sense 
 Of weary labourer, who woes and wins 
 Thy soft and balmy favours, comforting (>^ 
 Jlis little cares, and wants and miseries. 
 Alas! how oft in the rich bed of slate 7 J" 
 
 Hung round with costly drapery, and fcBc'd 
 From all external harm, but closing in 
 The sad unquiet of a restless mind ; 
 How does the titled suitor strive and turn
 
 49 
 
 And try to win thee : using medicines, 715 
 
 And quaint receipt, and strange device, and art 
 All but the arts of virtue, temperance, 
 And gentle exercise that win thee most. 
 Hail Evening, Eve, whate'er thy character, 
 Or name, or title in this world may be ; 720 
 
 Thou balmy breathing, fragrant effluence 
 Of earth, and air, and herb, and sweet perfume ; 
 Moving along in dim obscurity 
 With vapour, mists, and clouds upon thy head 
 Instead of regal diadem and crown : 725 
 
 I love thee gentle Queen in sober gray. 
 In meek and modest seemliness array'd. 
 Pleasing the eye more than the wanton gaze 
 Of noontide beauty; trick'd and fashion'd out 
 P
 
 50 
 
 lu flaunting gaudiness, exposing all 730 
 
 Her rich and varied charms in one wide view 
 With prodigality that tires the sense. 
 
 So have I seen Lavinia's fairy form, 
 Where grace, and synitnelry conspire to raise 
 A fairer fabric than the eye e'er saw 733 
 
 On glossy canvass, by tlie magic touch 
 Of tracing pencil wrought; laid bare and broad 
 To meet the lusty gaze of all who choose 
 To search with prving eye the sweet recess 
 Of so much beauty ; secret charms methinks 740 
 Better reserv'd for nuptial couch, the meed 
 Of trembhng lovers' long expectancy. 
 Shame on the modern fashionists ! who sliew 
 Their heaving breasts, and shoulders well o'cilaid
 
 51 
 
 With plump and swelling muscle (stripp'd for view 
 
 745 
 As carcasses for sale), or with loose turn 
 
 And studied negligence the well-turn'd leg 
 
 Industriously lay out in wanton mood, 
 
 Exciting hot desire, but oft'ner found 
 
 Horrid disgust, and rank indifference. (^^ 750 
 
 Forth from her hiding limps the timid hare 
 
 Licking with parched tongue the cooling drop 
 
 Of clear and chrystal dew, or reaching high 
 
 On her unshapely legs to browse the nesh, 
 
 And juicy tops of some choice plant that tempts 
 
 7.^5 
 Her changeful appetite : the wood-wild dove 
 
 In gentle murmurs chides her truant mate 
 
 As patient on her eggs she wakeful waits 
 
 D 2
 
 52 
 
 His wish'd return, or breathes in softer notes 
 The plaintive promise of her constant love. 760 
 Tow'rds the dark copse the magpie's cunning triba 
 With short, and jerking flights make haste to 
 
 perch 
 Where clust'ring poles with foliage green and thick 
 Make close retreat ; or with shrill cries defy 
 The useless vigilance of gunner-boy. 760 
 
 Up yonder glen where the deep shadow falls 
 Of branching elm, or ivy-twined ash 
 Steals the lank fox, cow'ring, and close to ground 
 Intent on rapine, or observing well 
 With quick'niiig eye the rabbit's stealthy leap. 770 
 In vain the wish; for pouncing on his back 
 The wakeful crow as jealous of his trade 
 With hoarse, and warning cry gives note of war
 
 53 
 
 And persecutes the object of her hate. 
 Now from the marsh, and fallow field, and hill 775 
 With worms, and insects laden to the fulH^ 
 tomes the long straggling team of screaming gulls 
 Returning homeward, to their haunts for rest, 
 With weary wing; and in strange harmony- 
 Making such concert as I love to hear. 7S0 
 
 How sweet to muse ! and after toilsome day 
 On pleasure, business, or gain intent, 
 How sweet besides that listlessness of soul 
 And love of meditation, which may seem 
 To those W/io Know It ^oi rank idleness, 785 
 
 And waste of leisure hour: but yet how rich 
 And full of luxury, how prodigal of sense 
 D 3
 
 54, 
 
 And over teeming with deliciours fruits 
 
 Is tlial ripe hour of thought ! the melting soul 
 
 Is all awake, and sensible, and full 79 
 
 Of her eternal heritage, and hopes 
 
 Of Ileav'n, and Heav'nly things: though free to 
 
 man 
 Yet not allodial : though sent from God 
 Yet to be won withal; though giv'n, and good 
 Yet to be sought for by his creature, man. 79> 
 Unwise and fond are they, lost in conceit ^^ 
 And dead in ignorance who vainly think 
 That Cod should persecute with winning grace 
 And irrcfaislible soft blandishment 
 The daring sinner : who believes that He 800 
 
 Wiio made the worlds should court, and fawn upon 
 A vvretcli so crovelllni' as insect man ;
 
 55 
 
 Who trust that He who is too pure to see 
 Or witness wickedness, should wink and nod 
 Upon the practis'd ways of toaH's impiety : 805 
 Who hope that He who lives invisible 
 And pure, and spotless should consent to look 
 And gladden too at sight of such default. 
 Heav'n to be won, must be deserv'd ; and God 
 Will give, and judge as justice shall decree. 810 
 
 This is indeed the hour when free and full 
 The soul of man walks forth in liberty 
 To take her range of thought : she wanders now 
 With bold and heedless step where'er she likes: 
 Around her tenement she peers as far 815 
 
 As reason's chain will reach: the world around; 
 li'b countless habitants; it's wond'roiis form;
 
 66 
 
 It's mystery of nature, end, and uaef;*^(/odir > ' -' v 
 
 The God who made it, and the fa4e of those 
 
 Who for a time inhabit it's expanse, $20 
 
 And then return to dust from whence they caao'C ; 
 
 The changing seasons that return^ and go 
 
 With changeless certainty : the lovdy growth 
 
 Of all the vegetable race that live 
 
 And grow, and die as 'twere by rule ; the sad 82.) 
 
 Yet pleasing apprehension of the good 
 
 Or evil that may reach ns ere we die : ^'^ 
 
 The shape and strange consistency of things 
 
 That only float on fancy's magic glass 
 
 Impossible to fix in firm reality :('^) S30 
 
 "The unsubstantial quality of all 
 
 This wretched world can give, and then the wi.5h 
 
 Perhaps to have one half that it contains:
 
 57 
 
 The thought of Heav'n, and Heav'nly things but 
 
 mixt 
 With hope of gross desires, or dalliance S35 
 
 Or joysjof sensual nature; these mayhap 
 And numberless besides too strange, and deep 
 And learned, and absurd to reckon up 
 Holds on the soul in plqjising dialogue 
 And sweet communion, that absorbs and lifts 840 
 It's highest faculties above this sphere. 
 And giyes some earnest of it's future state. 
 
 Hark to the harvest home ! the jolly crowd 
 
 Of sun-burut reapers, swarthy maids and boys 
 
 Come close, and dancing on; adorn'd with crowns 
 
 845 
 Of corn-flow'r, incadow-queen, and wild hare-bel]> 
 
 Ta rich and fanciful array display'd ;
 
 Bearing along the emblem of their joy 
 
 In rude and happy triumph rcar'd on high 
 
 Tlie Rustling Wheat-sheaf: full as proud are they 
 
 860 
 And of their skill, and hard-earn'd victory 
 
 As glad, and confident as they of old 
 
 Who with the captur'd wealth of provinces, 
 
 And trembling Kings in chains, and vassalage. 
 
 And full procession enter'd mighty Rome 855 
 
 With all the pomp and pageantry of war 
 
 Ilail'd by a nation's voice. Now up the vale 
 
 The distant sound of merriment and song 
 
 Steals gently on: the louder chorus now: 
 
 Full on the ear, or trembling in the breeze S60 
 
 As the wild, fitful swell recedes or comes: 
 
 Like village bells set on their ends, and then 
 
 Sallied for lime or tune: Oh now asain
 
 The grateful melody pervades the ear 
 Rolling along in sweet variety 8^5 
 
 And pause, and cadence; 'till the dying sound 
 Cheats with ideal strains the ravish'd sense. 
 
 Look o'er the sea the pale-orb'd Moon breaks 
 
 out 
 
 In heavenly radiance, emitting forth 
 
 A lengihen'd line of silvery light that rides 870 
 
 Upon the buyont wave, reflecting bright 
 
 In quaint array the varied shape, and size 
 
 Of each dark object; tow'r, or tree, or hill 
 
 Or mast's ungainly height : here to the left 
 
 The bickering flame of yonder light-house plays 
 
 875 
 Like fitful blush of sickly maid that burns 
 
 And goes, and comes as the hot fit provokes,
 
 60 
 
 Seeming to kindle in one liquid blaze 
 
 The smooth and glassy surface of it's deep. 
 
 Trust not the treacherous calm, and laughing look 
 
 880 
 That those hushVl waves put on: more cruel they 
 
 Than dark assassin violating life 
 
 Even in slumb'ring helplessness; and worse 
 
 Worse than the villain's smils : aye worse than he 
 
 Who with as fair a look, and profifer'd vows 885 
 
 Courted Maria's love, and she poor thing 
 
 Trusting the semblance of his honest shew 
 
 And specious courtesy Relied, And Fell 
 
 But fell not lonely : in one grave were laid 
 
 Her mangled relics, and her Sire self slain. S^O 
 
 Upon such impious iiead 1 ask no curse. 
 
 Nor on such deeds implore the withering stroke 
 
 Of Ueav'n's Immediate Justice ; lo ! above
 
 61 
 
 There lives and slumbers not a Pow'r as free 
 
 As certain to requite with endless pains 895 " 
 
 The damned wickedness of those who live 
 
 And thrive upon the havoc that they make. 
 
 So on as fair a day, and smooth a wave 
 Albinia veutur'd from her native home^*^ 
 A ypung, and blushing bride : in fragile ship 900 
 But deck'd with proud device, and swelling sail 
 And colours waving in the wanton wind 
 That seem'd to urge and lure her to the deep ; 
 Embarking all that goodliness of form, 
 And glowing virtues, loveliness of heart, 905 
 
 Or love of Ileav'n could sanctify and raise 
 High and above compare : the virgin tint 
 Still on her damask cheek; and in her eye
 
 65* 
 
 The fearful look of maiden modesty. 
 
 The hour of trial came; the sails were furl'd; 910 
 
 The fatal signal fir'd : the long farewell 
 
 To parents, sisters, brothers, country, friends; 
 
 The last embrace; tlie ecstasy of grief: 
 
 The stifled sob: the loud convulsive cry: 
 
 The look to Heav'n, the gaze on vacancy; piS 
 
 Oh she had felt it all, yet pass'd in hope 
 
 That sad and bitter hour. The anchor heav'd, 
 
 Slow and majestic from her station moves 
 
 The mighty vessel: nothing now is seen 
 
 But waving hands, and handkercliiefsdisplay'd 9'^0 
 
 In fond and sad extremity : nought heard 
 
 But the soft silent pray'r for licalth, and life 
 
 And long prosperity, or at the prow 
 
 The rippling murmur of the parting wave.
 
 But who can tell, of tearless paint the scene ? 925 
 
 The sad catastrophe that foUow'd up 
 
 Such fair and op'ning promise? who can hear 
 
 The tale of horror ? what hard heart can learn 
 
 Without a pang th' unutterable end 
 
 Of so much life and loveliness? Up rose 930 
 
 In all his grim deformity, and shape 
 
 The growling Demon who exults and rides 
 
 On the black driving storm, with horrid din 
 
 Clashing the cruel waves that rav'd around 
 
 The floating tenement. In vain were tears 955 
 
 Dropping in waste amidst the briny flood, 
 
 And mighty billows: full as vain were sis^hs 
 
 Flung to the idle winds ; in vain were rais'd 
 
 The clenched hands, and wild imploring look 
 
 Of hopeless agony, and oh in vain 940
 
 The piefcing shriek of death j the clpsin^^ ,4^^|> > 
 
 In one wide ruin huried all, and swept 
 
 With reckless haste each trembling soul away.. . ;,y 
 
 Beyond the spot where boats at anchor bound 
 Throw their long shade aside, I see a group ^4,5 
 Of sturdy fishermen who bring to shore 
 Their hard-earn'd treasure ; giant-like they look. 
 As their refracted forms glint o'er the sands 
 Struck by the Moon's bright beam. The whistling 
 
 cry 
 Of frighten'd curlew, or the shriller sound ^50 
 Of grey sandpiper skimming o'er the strand 
 Scar'd t>y the dashing oar: the whirring wing 
 Of sheldrake plying from his secret haunt, 
 Or biuern's lonely scream ; oh these do prove
 
 - . . -.^ ' - 
 
 That grey-ey'd Evening has not charms aTone 955 
 For those who love her calm and soberness 
 But that the multitude of living things 
 Who sport and revel in her twilight hours; 
 Love more than man that solitude and shade 
 Which suit so well the melancholy mind. 9^9 
 
 ir 
 
 But 'mid such distant beauties seen afar, 
 And for their distance valued ; as we siee 
 The paltry gewgaws oT some foreign land 
 Beyond our native produce far preferr'd j 
 Us'd by the Rich, and by the Vulgar prais'd 9<5S 
 Let not the nearer landscape pass unseen, 
 ^nd smile away it's loveliness unpriz'd. 
 Or lose it's due return : Yon village spirfe 
 E
 
 66 
 
 That charms with it's rude chimes' the wond'ring 
 
 clown 
 The humbler cot entwin'd with woodbine vines 970 
 That trail their curling tendrils wild and wide 
 In sweet luxuriance : the hawthorn dress'd 
 ^nd deck'd in all her modesty of while. 
 And virgin drapery ; outvying all ' 
 
 The costly mockery that Fashion shapes 975 
 
 And her poor slaves assume : yon hanging copse 
 That skirts that village round with ample folds 
 Of rich luxuriant foliage, and shade, 
 And goodliness of green; how oft at eve 
 Or at the solemn close of midnight hour QSO 
 
 With quick'hing step, and palpitating heart 
 And nerves attun'd, and tremblingly alive 
 To every thing around : how have I pass'd
 
 ^7 
 
 With lightntng-speed it's close, and <larksome 
 
 path : 
 
 Then paus'd to bear what fearfulness of sound 985 
 
 My watchful ear assail'd ! the doleful hoot 
 
 Of russet owl, perchance the rustling wing 
 
 Of wakeful pie dislodg'd from it's retreat; 
 
 Or the hoarse murmuring of distant sea: 
 
 The hill regained, The Vale Of Death And Ghosts 
 
 990 
 And all the Goblin Tribe left far behind. 
 
 With firmer step I trac'd the well-known path, 
 
 Heard with delight the social village sounds, 
 
 And breath'd again reliev'd fr<Jtn every fear. 
 
 But hold my Muse ! the chilling shades of night 
 That fall so fast, and the blue curling mist, 
 E 2
 
 68 
 
 (Though brighter day foretelling us anon,) 
 Compells me, shivering, and sad to leave 
 These lofty themes, adown the well-known path 
 Quick to descend ; and with reluctant heart 1 000 
 To view the vulgar ways of life again. 
 
 So have I seen the lusty eagle rise 
 
 Prom some high beetling crag, and bear away 
 
 On stouter wing o'er wood, and wild, and sea; 
 
 Soaring so far 'till like some dim-seen speck 1005 
 
 He hangs 'mid earth and air : with rapid eye 
 
 Surveying all the haunts he loves so well. 
 
 And 'midst them Most Belov'd the deep recess 
 
 Where his unfledg'd, and ravenous young reside, 
 
 Rock'd by the wind, and cradled in the cloud-- 
 
 lOlO
 
 69 
 
 Then with clos'd wing ; and head bent low, and 
 
 leer, 
 Shoot like a meteor from his dizzy height, 
 And light to rest upon his rock again. 1013 
 
 THE END.
 
 NOTES.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (a) Page 1 Line 8. 
 
 Tiie following brief, but expressive description of Brext 
 
 Knowl may convey to the reader some idea of it's situation. 
 
 ^' At a small distance southward from the Church stands a 
 
 " singularly copped eiiiii:ence, of a conical form, called 
 
 " Brent Knowl, a name frequently mentioned by our topo- 
 
 *' graphical writers. On the top of this Hill, which is nearly 
 
 " one thousand feet above the level of the sea, and commands 
 
 " a most extensive prospect of the Channel, Coast of Wales, 
 
 " and the inland country, there is a large, double, irregu- 
 
 " lar intrenchment; in which brass and silver coins of the 
 
 '' Roman Empire have been frequently found, and in digging 
 
 " at it's base spear heads, fibulae, urns, and other remains 
 
 '"' Ijave been thrown up/' 
 
 Collinson's Hist. Somerset, 
 
 Vol. 1, p. 19.5,
 
 H JfOTES. 
 
 (b) P. 3-L. 25. 
 
 Paraphrased from the following truly beauliful and com- 
 prehensive lines 
 
 " By^otTis ovx, la-xai, ir^iv ris )cCX>i." 
 
 Sophocles' Ajax, line 963. 
 
 Fools never know 
 
 * The treasure's value, 'liil the treasure's lost." 
 
 Fraiiklyn Tram. 
 
 (c) P. 4>L. 46. 
 
 A beautiful spring so cailetl ; dedicated (probably by the 
 Monks who lived here under the Abbey of Glastonbui v), 
 to the Virgin Mary. 
 
 (d) P. 6-L. 76. 
 
 The Rev. Harry Fan Vcatman, formerly Fellow of Baliiol 
 College, Oxford, Baleliclor of Divinity, Rector of Kilvc, 
 Vicar of East Brent, and Prebendary of Wells, Somerset. 
 Died Anno Domini 1796.
 
 NOTES. rs 
 
 (e) P. r L. 90. 
 
 These lines are partly taken from tlie following beayliful 
 invocation of the Chorus in (Edipus Tyrannus 
 
 '* Mor^a Ta' tiiaiTfro'i dyveixn Koyan 
 " Epyuv rs Tccvruv, ay vof/ioi v^oKUvrxt 
 
 " Tiiii'ji^ivris, uv OXv/jlttos 
 *' TlxTvi^ [JI.C1/0S) ovh' (v SpjsTflC 
 
 " M'v won Kx^x x.xTXMii/.xasi' 
 " Miyxs iv rovTois ^or, 
 *' Ouda yuf aaxEf." 
 
 " Grant me Iienceforth ye pow'rs divine 
 
 " In virtue's purest paths to tread! 
 
 " In every word, in every deed 
 " May sanctily of manners ever shine!
 
 76 NOTES. 
 
 " Obedient to the laws of Jove 
 
 " The laws descended from above, 
 '' Which, not Kke those by feeble morlals glv'n 
 
 " Buried in dark oblivion lie 
 
 " Or worn by time decay and die 
 ' But bloQffi eternal like their native Heav'n." 
 
 Franklyn Tr.ans. 
 
 (f) P. 7 L. 94. 
 
 This part of the hill is called Saddle Close, and belongs 
 to the glebe lands. It's exact resemblance to a saddle is 
 very striking and curious. 
 
 (g) P. 9 L. 129. 
 The Rev. John Veatmau, formerly Fellow of Oriel Col- 
 lege, Oxford, Master of Arts, Vicar of East Brent, Preben- 
 dary of Wells, and one of his Majesty's Justices of ilie 
 Peace for the County of Somerset. 
 
 (h) P. 18 L. 261. 
 The Greeks and Romans were accustomed to consider 
 every nation but their own as barba'rous : among the former
 
 NOTES. 77 
 
 the opprobrious terra of " Ot pCafOi " was Indiscriminatelj 
 applied to all their neighbonrs: and it is a curious fact that 
 the Phoenicians for a long time preserved to theroseives the 
 exclusive benefits of the tin trade with Britain by indus- 
 triously propagating amongst their credulous neighbours the 
 most absurd stories of the barbarism and cruelty of the Bri- 
 tish, and wTiich efTectually for a time deterred others from 
 following their course to these islands, called in those days 
 Cassiterides, from the Greek word " xxa-a-irtpos^' signifying 
 tin. The opinions tiiat the Romans entertained of the 
 English at a later period may be collected from Horace, who 
 accuses them of murdering all foreigners thrown upon their 
 coasts, and classes them with the barbarous tribes of Spain, 
 who iiviiig like savages drank the blood even of their horses. 
 " Visam Britannos hospitibus feros 
 " Et loetum equino sanguine Concanum." 
 ''^I will visit the British cruel towards strangers 
 " And the inhabitant of Concana delighting in horse's 
 
 blood." 
 
 Jlor. Ode 4Wi, Lib. 3cL,
 
 ft: NOTES. 
 
 . With regard to the bravery of the antient British, we find 
 it recorded in the eloquent and elegant Tacitas< that ihey 
 not only were but partially subdued by a want of union 
 among themselves ratlier than by the vigour of the Romans, 
 but that in fact they were never conquered at all; and Cwsar 
 himself admits as much in his " Gallic War :" we know also 
 that after having had possession of t!ie island for four cen- 
 turies and upwards, without being able lo subdue the spirit 
 of the native British, the Romans fniaily withdrew their 
 troops and quitted it altogether about the year of our Lord 
 .418. Tacitus says " Rarus duabus tribusve civitalibus, ad 
 " propulsandum commune periculum conventus: ita dum 
 " singuii pugnant, universi vincuntur:" "The union of 
 " two or three cities together to repel any common danger 
 *' is rare: thus whilst individuals are engaged in civil war, 
 " the great body of the people are overcome : '' and thouglh 
 Gffisar attacked this country with two wliole legions, and that 
 too af^er the conquest of Germany and Gaul, this same 
 liistorian admits that he only pointed it out to posterity,
 
 NOTES. 79' 
 
 instead of delivering it over as a conqaered nation-^" potest 
 " videri ostcudisse posteris, non tradidisse." 
 
 Taciti Agrico. Lib. 12<ft. 
 
 (i) P. 19 L. 272. 
 The Western extremity of the Meiidip Hills, called pro- 
 rincially Crook's Peak. 
 
 (k) P. 21 L. 298. 
 The formation of the eartli, the physical canse of the 
 Deluge, or the manner in which it was accomplished, and 
 the effects of the same upon tlie present appearance of the 
 earth, and the face of natural bodies, these questions have 
 been investigated and opposed with much learning and in- 
 genuity by many authors and geologists, forming the subject 
 of fable among the Iieathens, and of curious research and 
 criticism among the moderns. Perhaps there are few if any 
 natural phenomena in this country that could engage the 
 le.arned enquiries of the philosopher with more success, or, 
 repay his labours witii more liberality than the spot we are 
 BOW describing. The only two probable, if not possible
 
 80 l^bTES, 
 
 canses of this grand hiatus the Author has ventured briefly 
 to allude toj he will however shelter himself from further 
 risk of error under the followiug descriptiou of Mr. Col- 
 
 linson : 
 
 *' But what most distinguishes the place (viz. Cheddar) 
 " and occasions it to be visited by travellers is that slupen- 
 *' dous chasrn, called Clieddar Cliffs, which is certainly the 
 " most striking scene of it's kind in Great Britain. This 
 ' vast chasm runs across the soulh-west ridge of the hill 
 " from top to bottom, extending in a north-east winding 
 " direction more than a mile in length, and then branching 
 " oft' by two passages in tlie form of a Y by an easy ascent 
 " to the top of Mendip. Beyond the spring head, the en- 
 " trance opens into the chasm, which is in many places very 
 " narrow, and scattered over with rude loose fragments of 
 *' fallen rocks. The stone is of various kinds : some almost 
 " black, and extremely hard and ponderous, containing a 
 ' considerable quantity of iron : others a coarse kind of mar- 
 '' ble veined with a dusky red which burns into strong lime, 
 *' and a third sort appears to be coral in a fossil stale, of
 
 NOTES. 81 
 
 " which there are several sorts, some full of small stars and 
 others in large buds finely striated from the centre. Pro- 
 " ceeding in this winding passage the cliffs rise on either 
 " hand in the most picturesque forms, some of them being 
 " near eight hundred feet high and terminating in craggy 
 " pyramids. On tiie right hand several of them are perpen- 
 *' diculartothe height of four hundred feet, and resemble 
 " the shattered baltlemenls of vast castles. On the left hand, 
 " or west side are two also of this form, which lean over the 
 " valley with a threatening aspect, and the tops of many 
 " others at the height of several hundred feet project over 
 " the heads of the spectators with terrific grandeur. In gena? 
 " ral the swelling projections on the one sidfe stand opposed 
 ' to corresponding hollows on tiic other, which is a strong 
 " indication that this immense gap was formed by some dread- 
 " ful convulsion of the earth. On tiie right hand the cliffs 
 " are steeper than on tlie left, and are generally inaccessible ; 
 " but beautifully interspersed with ivy, shrubs, &c.' In pas- 
 " sing along this valley the awful scenery is contuiualfy 
 F
 
 8 notes; 
 
 " changing, but to observe all it's beauties it must be tra- 
 " versed backwards aud forwards. In doing this, (here will' 
 *' be found ten points of view, which are gran*! be3'ond ' 
 " description, and where the prospects cxhibittli.it wild aji.d 
 " tremendous magnificence which cannot fail impressing the 
 " mind of the spectator with awe and astonishutent at the' 
 '" works of that Power, whose voice even the'obdurale rocks 
 " obe^, and retire." 
 
 C'liiiuson's Hist; Somerset, vol. 5, p. o73>. 
 
 (i) P. 21 -L. 305. 
 
 This beautiful flower is thus described by Botanists 
 " Dianthus cfesius; Clieddar Pink. Steins single-flowered. 
 ' Calyx scales roundish, short. Petals crenate hairy. Leaves- 
 " rough in the margin." Sm. Fl. Brit, 4^3. Engl. Bot, t 63. 
 ^' DIaulhus virgineus Linnasus. It has been hitherto observed 
 " only ou Cheddar Ilocks, Somerset, and by Mr. Davall oa- 
 " Roche blanche near Orbc, Switzerland." 
 
 Rees' Encijclo. vol. \ I, part 2. 
 See ulso Witherlng's Dot. Arr. tol. 2, p. 501,
 
 NOTES. 83 
 
 (m) P. 2S L. S33. 
 It is nrell known that die Muses were called Castalides from 
 this sacred stream, and thai Helicon was a iDountaln in Boeo- 
 tia, on tlie borders of Phocis in Greece, near the celebrated 
 straits of Thermopylae. The Author alludes to this last 
 classic mount, merely to express his astonishment at that 
 solecisni in sense instead of words that the antients appear 
 to be guilty of, in ranking all fools as Boeotians ; the climate 
 of which they asserted to be uncongenial to learning, and 
 the production of great men; but whilst at the same time 
 they recorded that one of it's mountains was the seat of the 
 Muses, and tiic country itself the proud and distinguished 
 birth-place of a Pindar, an Hciiod, and a Plutarch ! The 
 Author alludes to the well-known lines of Horace 
 
 ^ " Quod si 
 
 " Judicium subtile vidcadis artibus, illad 
 *' Ad libros, et ad haic Musa'rum dona vocares 
 * Boeotum in crasso jurares acre natuni." 
 " But if you should call upon that taste of his, 
 " AYliIch is so refined upon works of art, to exeit 
 F S
 
 94 NOTES, 
 
 " Itself in the choice of bnoks, or tliese gifts of 
 " The Muses you would swear he was bora 
 " In the doll, foggy atmosphere of Boeolia." 
 
 Hor. Ep. 1, Lib. 2,241. 
 (n) P. 25 L. 357. 
 Ill this one instance may be seen, as indeed in many others, 
 'good arising out of evil; the best effects out of ilie worst 
 intentions. No thanks are due from us to this Monarch 
 directly : yet by his disposing of the Church lands and reve- 
 nues and their thereby fulling into lay hands, may be attri- 
 buted the principal security which the Church of England 
 holds in both Houses of Parliament this very day. Th^ 
 Author of course exempts from this apparently sweeping, 
 charge the natural, and indeed vigilant guardians of the 
 Cliurcb, the Right Reverend Bishops. 
 
 (o) P. 27 L. ':i9'3. 
 It is not to be supposed that llie Abbey of Glastonbury 
 was exempt from the gross, and scandalous vices which dis- 
 graced the Religious Houses in these days: their uiibuinided 
 avarice, their enormous and indeed impolitic acquisiiion of
 
 KOTES. tM 
 
 tveaith, their meddling and attempting an usurped authority 
 over the Crowned Heads of every country iji which they 
 existed, first led the way to their humiliation, and last of all 
 to tlieir utter ruin and expulsion. The insolence with whicii 
 they treated the most powerful Monarchs when acting either 
 in opposition to their interests, or not conceding what tliey 
 might thinii; those interests required, may be collected horH 
 the following brief account of the conduct of Pope Gregory 
 the Seventh towards Henry the Third Emperor of Germany 
 so iaie as the eleventh century: 
 
 " When things were come to this desperate extremity, and 
 *' the faction which was formed against this unfortunate Mo- 
 " narch grew more formidable from day to day, his friends 
 " advised him to go into Ital}', and implore in person the 
 ' clemency of the Pontiff. The Emperor yielded to this 
 ' ignominious counsel, without however obtaining from liis^ 
 " voyage the advantages lie expected. He passed the Alps 
 " amidst tiie rigour of a severe winter, arrived in the month 
 " of February 1077 at the fortress of Canusium, wliere the 
 F 3
 
 86 KTdtES. 
 
 " sanctimojiious Pontiff resided at tliat time with the young 
 " Mathilda, Countess of Tuscany, the raost powerful pa- 
 " troness of the Church, and the most tender and affectioii- 
 " ate daughter of Gregory. Here the suppliant Prince, 
 " unmindful of his dignity, stood during three days in the 
 " open air at the entrance of this fortress, with his feel bare, 
 ' his liead uncovered, and witli no other raiment hut a 
 " wretched j)iece of coarse woollen cloth thrown over his 
 ' body to cover his nakedness. The fouriii day he was ad- 
 " milled to the presence of the lordly Pontiff,. who, wiih a 
 " good deal of difficulty granted him the absolution he de- 
 " raanded : but as to what regarded liis restoration to the 
 " throne, he refused to determine that point before the ap- 
 " preaching congress, at which time he made Henry promise 
 " to appear, forbidding him at the same time, to assume 
 " during this interval the title of King, as also to wear the 
 " ornaments, or to exercise the functions of royalty." The 
 iaisloiy of the Jesuits, and Douglas's Criterion will throw 
 great liglit upon this interesting part of our history. 
 
 See Mcsheiirij Eccks, Hist. vol. t, p. 296-7.
 
 NOTES. 87 
 
 ^ <p) P. 28 L. 404. 
 
 t The seat of William Dickenson, Esq. Member for Uie 
 Couiitj, whose hospitality and condescension the Author 
 gratefully acknowledges. 
 
 (q) P. 28 L. 416. 
 Montacute House, the very aniient, and magnificent seat 
 of John Pheiips, Esquire, under whose kind, and hospitable 
 roof, the Author has had the honour and Iiappiness of spend- 
 ing many pleasant hours. 
 
 (r) P. 29 L. 426. 
 That rdigion formed the basis, and very groundwork of 
 (til the disputes, animosities, war, bloodshed, and intestine 
 commotion of those days, no one who reads the history and 
 literary productions oi the limes can doubt. Hume llius 
 describes tiie melancholy catastiophe to which the Author 
 alludes: "The negligent disposition made by Fevershara 
 " (5lh July 1685) invited Monmouth to attack the King'* 
 " arraj' at Sedgemoor near Bridgewater ; and liis men in 
 " this action sbo'.ved what a native courage, and a principle
 
 88 NOTES. 
 
 " of duly, even when nnassisted by discipline, is able ts 
 *' perform. They made great impression on the veteran 
 *' fortes ; drove tbem from their ground ; continued the fight 
 " 'till their ammunition failed them ; and would at last have 
 '' obtained a victory had not the misconduct of Monmouth 
 " and the cowardice of Gray prevented it. After a contest 
 *' of three hours the rebels gave way ; and were followed 
 '* will) great slaughter. About 1500 fell iu the battle and 
 '' pursuit." The capture and horrible death of Monmouth ; 
 l!ic end of this wretched family, the last of whom died even 
 iu want and misery extreme, the Autiior deems it prudent 
 to puss over. The following document however will, prove 
 the temper of those times, and the barbarous cruelly "wiili 
 whicl) punislimcnt was inflicted on the rebels; and it seems 
 almost impossible to thew that the limes required such an 
 example, 
 
 ^ Edward IIobi'.es, Esqr Slicrrcile of 
 " Somersetshire. ^ 
 
 f. ye rounlie aforesaid to llie coi.t>'es;\i:d 
 
 " other his Ma''" otficcrs of tiie cillic and burrough of Bath,
 
 NOTES. f 
 
 * grfeetjng ; Whereas I have reed a warr* under tlie hand 
 ' and, scale of the right HonWe The Lord Jeffreys for the 
 " executing of several rebells within yo^ said citie, These 
 *' are therefore to will and require you immediately on sight 
 ." hereof to erect a galiows in the most publike place of 
 " vol" said cilie to hang the said trayto" on, and that 
 " yo** provide halters to hang them with, a sufficient num- 
 ' her of faggotts to burne the bowells of fower traytors, 
 " and a furnace or cauldron to boyle their heads, and quar- 
 " tcrs, and salt to boyle therewith, halfe a bushell to each 
 ^' traytor and tarr to tarr y with, and a sufficient number 
 " of spears and poles to fix and place their heads and quar- 
 ' ters; and that yo^ warne the owners of fower oxen to be 
 " ready with a dray and wayne and the said fower oxen at 
 " the time hereafter niencioned for execusion, and yo" 
 ' yorselves togealher with a guard of forlie able men att 
 <* the least to be present on Wednesday morning next by 
 ?. eight of the clock, to be aiding and assisting to me, or 
 " my depulie, to see the said rebells executed. Given un-
 
 NOTES, 
 
 ' der my seal of oflice llik 16" day of November A", lo. 
 " Jacob! secundi 1685. 
 
 EnwAnc Hobces Vic. 
 
 yo are alsoe to provide 
 an axe and a cleaver for the quartering; llie said rebells! 
 
 (s) P. 30 L. 435. 
 The contrast between the luxury and depraved habits of 
 life of the present day and those of even so late a date as 
 the time of the famous Thos. a Becket cannot be better 
 drawn than in the following words : premising that this pre- 
 late was accounted the greatest man of his age, of consum- 
 mate expence and luxury, was Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 and Tutor to the King's son, " The pomp of his retinue, 
 " the sumptuousness of his furniture, the luxury of liis table, 
 " the munificence of his presents correspond to these great 
 " preferments : or rallier exceed any thing which England 
 " had ever before seen in any subject. His historian and 
 " secretary', Fitz-Slephens, mentions among other paiticu- 
 " lars, that his apartments were every day in winter covered 
 *' with clean straw or hay, and in Euramcr with green rushes
 
 NOTES. 9f 
 
 "or bojglis; lest the gentlemen who paid their court to 
 " him, and who could not, by reason of their great number, 
 '' find a place at table, should soil their fine cloalhs by 
 " silling on the dirty floor." ^ 
 
 Hume, vol. 1st, p. 411. 
 We find also that " John Baldwin held the manor of 
 " Oterarsfee in Aylesbury of the King in soccage, by the 
 " service of finding litter for tlie King's bed, viz. in summer 
 " grass or herbs, and two green geese, and in winter straw 
 " and three ech, thrice in a year if the King should come 
 * thrice in a year to Alesbury." 
 
 Madox, Ear, Avgllca, p. 247. 
 This happtened so late as the middle of the eleventh cen- 
 tury. Many other references could be made to prove the 
 simplicity of the life of our forefathers ; but none more pow- 
 erfully convincing of its good etftct upon the morals and 
 habits of the peoitle tlian that contained in Zenophou's 
 Jiiiiory of the Education Cyrus, where it is recorded that 
 by ilie discipline there pursued Sparta not only encreased 
 her population, but iusjiiritcd her people to such a degree as
 
 * NOTES, 
 
 4a be able not only to withstand, but finally to snbdue her 
 rival Alliens of superior force as to physical and numerical 
 power: who languished and degenerated from the very op- 
 posite cause. So also did Rome in her decline and fall fully 
 demonstrate, and awfully exemplify this same great truth. 
 Of the present days the Author says nothing, " verbuiii sat 
 tiapiejiti." 
 
 (t) P. 33 L. 482. 
 The father of the present Sir Richard Colt Hoare, Bart, 
 is the person here alluded to. If the great Roman Satyrist 
 had seen the taste and splendour, the rich yet natural beau- 
 ties with which this . gentleman has adorned his seat and 
 grounds at Stour Head or Stourton, he would never have 
 written such lines as the following. The author is indebted 
 for the translation : 
 
 " Quanto prastanlius esset 
 *' Nunien aquae, viridi si marglne clauderet undas 
 " Herba nee ingenuum violarent inarmora tophum. 
 "Down to Egcria's vale wo took our way 
 *^ Where spoii'd by art her formal grottos lay ;
 
 NOTES. 95 
 
 " How nracb more honour'd had the Goddess been 
 " Were the dear fountain edged with living green, 
 " Througli no vain marble did ibe water run 
 " But onlj murmur o'er a bed of stone." 
 
 Juvenal, Sat. 3d. 
 
 (v) P. 39 L. 573. 
 The picturesque and delightful residence of Miss Balcii, 
 who is llie worilij" reprcsenlalive of this very respectable 
 and antient family. 
 
 (w) P. 42 L. 614. 
 '' For this purpose, he (Alfred) entered their camp under 
 " lite disguise of a harper, and passed unsuspected thro' 
 " every quarter. He so entertained them with his music 
 " and facetious humour?,, that he met with a wekonie recep- 
 ' lion ; and was even introduced to Guthrum, their prince's 
 '' tent, where he remained some days. He remarked the su- 
 " pine security of the Danes, their contempt of the English, 
 " their negligence in foraging and plundering, and their dis- 
 " solute wasting of what they gained hy rapine and violence.
 
 94 ; K0TE9. 
 
 " Encouraged by these favourable appearances, he secrethr 
 " sent out his eralsiarlcs to the most considerable of his sub- 
 "jccts, and summoned iliem to a rendezvous, along with 
 " their warlike followers, at Brixton, on the borders of Sel- 
 " wood forest. The English, who had hojjed to put an end 
 " to their calamities by servile submission, now found the 
 " insolence and rapine of the conqueror more intolerable 
 " than all their past faligues and dangers; and at the ap- 
 '' pointed day, they joyfidly resorted to their Prince. Oil 
 " his appearance before them, they received him with slicuts 
 *' of applause ; and could not satiate their eves with the 
 " sight of this beloved monarch, whom they had long rc- 
 " garded as dead, and who now, with voice and looks ex- 
 '' pressing his confidence of success, called them to liberty 
 " and vengeance. He instantly conducted them to Edding- 
 " ton, where the Danes were encamped; and taking advan- 
 " tage of his previous knowledge of the place, he directed 
 " his attack against the most unguarded quarter of the ene- 
 " my. The Danes, surprised to see an army of English, 
 " jvbom ihey considered as totally subdued, and still more
 
 >fOTES. 95 
 
 astonished to hear Alfred was at tlieir head, made bat a 
 " faint resistance, notwiihstanding their superiority of nura- 
 " ber; and were soon put to flight wiih great slaugliter. 
 " The remainder of the routed army, with tlieir prince, was 
 " besieged by Alfred in a fortified place, to wliicii they tied j 
 " but beins; reduced to extremity by want and liunger, tliey 
 " had recourse to tlie clenienc}' of ilie victor, and offered to' 
 " submit on any coiidiiious. The King, no less generous 
 " llian brave, gave them liieir lives ; -and even formed a 
 " scheme for converting them, from mortal enemies, into 
 " faithful subjects and confederates. He knew, that the 
 '' kingdoms of East-Anglia and Northumberland were left 
 " totally desolate by the frequent inroads of the Danes ; 
 " and he now purposed to re-people them by settling theie 
 ' Gulhrum and his followers. He hoped that the new 
 " planters would at last betake themselves to industry, 
 '' when, by reason of his resistance, and the exhausted con- 
 " diiion of the country, they could no longer subsist by 
 " l)lunder; and that they might serve him as a rampart 
 " against any future incursions of their countrvmen. But
 
 96 NOTES. 
 
 "** before he ratified these mild conditions with the Daues^ 
 " he required, that thej should give him one pledge of their 
 *' submission, and of their inclination to coalesce with the 
 * English, by declaring their conversion to Christianity. 
 " Guthrura and his army had no aversion to this proposal ; 
 " and, without much instruction, or argument, or conference, 
 tliey were all admitted to baptism. The King answered 
 " for Guihrura at the font, give him the name of Athelstan, 
 ' and received him as his adoptive son." 
 
 Hume's Eng. vol. 1. 
 
 (x) P. 44 L. 649. 
 
 The Author is in a trifling degree indebted to the follow- 
 ing beautiful lines of Ur. Young : 
 
 " Tir'd Xalure's sweet restorer balmy sleep! 
 
 " He like the world his ready visit pays 
 
 " Where Fortune smiles : the wretched he forsakes, 
 
 " Swift on his downy pinions flies from woe, 
 
 *' And lights on lids unsullied with a tear."
 
 NOTES. 9t 
 
 (z) p. 51 L. 749. 
 The tJnenlightened antients, mere Heathens, had ver> 
 different ideas of decorum, and arc of course to be pardoned 
 for such barbarous notions. Julias Caesar the Emperor, the 
 Soldier, and the Scholar, was even when pierced through with 
 daggers, only solicitous to fall as Caesar should, to fall with 
 grace ! and the lovely Polyxena, even in the agonies of death, 
 was only anxious to cof.ceal those charms which it was not 
 becoming for vulgar eyes to gaze on. 
 
 ** Kfvjrrctv S' a x^wrtit o/A/xar d^aiiuv ^W*." 
 
 " But she even when dying was principally anxious to 
 " fall composed and decently ; and to conceal those charms 
 " which ought to be concealed from the eyes of men." 
 
 <a) P. 53 L. 776, 
 The Autlior when a boy once shot on the north side of 
 G
 
 08 TS'Q'mi' 
 
 this hill a large gull of Uie " X^ue Canus" species, where 
 the (Jcficent is xery ^ecj), and }lmt 390 jfeet Jjprpfindiwrfar. 
 'the bird fqll npatlj ,dep,d, wd frpip thje*hpi of Ahe/all l' 
 in llie act of djing disgorged itlie whole conleiitepf its maw, 
 beiug at lesst a ^ut of ^i^rg^; earth worm* : tlve good ikesfi 
 creature*) do sa^y Ihccefore be easily iKu^iucd* when the 
 ^uicJ^ness of J.1ieir dige&tion U oiisidcried< Aad the lw;ge 
 flocks in vvhidi thjey jpneraU y congregate. Du tle &tscp 
 Holmes in the middle of .l}ie4[Ihannel,ilUoiis of these Jair^ 
 of every species, build their nests iju the summer months : 
 the fisherman at this time with a long pole armed with h 
 noose at llie cMid climbs to the edge of the clilf where they 
 are silting, and having uttered a peculiar cry to excite the 
 fek'^' attention, and which causes it to thrust oM ite -neck, 
 tbfows the loop with great dexterity over the bjrd' neclk, 
 end wih one twit.di jerks U into tke boat ibeneoth, whfrti 
 his family are waking to strip it in a moment of its feathers, 
 and to commit its body to the deep. The eggs are sold by 
 boat loads to the Bristol merchants, for the purpose of re- 
 fining sugar.
 
 NOTES. ' 95 
 
 '. (b") P. 54 t. 706. 
 
 That such doclraies as these are not only taught, But be- 
 lieved, is a lamentable fact. It is so, not only on account of 
 their repugnance to truth, and tlieir opposition to tlic plain 
 interpretation of sacred' Sctiptute, but also on account of 
 the ill effects such doctrines must, and'db produce upon the 
 miuds and morals of a' people prone enough naturally to do 
 cvii, knd unwilling enough to perform any of the comraainrf- 
 mentsof God, or duties towards men without the prohibit- 
 ing influence of these delusive, fatal, but readily received 
 and convenient doctrines of modern divines. If mankind 
 are to be taught cither on the one hand ihrougii Election^ thC 
 they cannot be lost eternally, commit what crimes they will ; 
 or through the horrid medium of Reprobation, that live 
 htfvTever' virtuously, soberly, piously, and Cliristianlike they 
 may, they must be damned, and that the blood of Christ did 
 not, could not, and never can flow for them; m either case 
 a most alarming indifference to all Piiglit and Wrong, to all 
 Virtue and Vice^ will be produced : and it becomes uj 
 gravely to enquire whether the Penal Statute had not better
 
 100 NOTES. 
 
 at once be subslitutcd for the Docalogne ; and the Civil 
 Magistrate armed with all the terrors of the law for th* 
 Parish Priest who endeavours conscientiously to discliarge 
 his sacred and deputed, but ai it should seem useless, idle, 
 and unavailing duties. The classical reader knows such 
 doctrines are taught and promulgated, not only in the 
 works of Calvin, Whitefield, Toplady, Hawker, Hill, &c. 
 bat from the Pulpits of the Clergy of the Present Day '. ! 
 
 (c) P. 56 L. 827. 
 
 Such were the sentimentsof Epictetus the celebrated Stoic, 
 in his Enchiridion, chap. 27lh. 
 
 * O^OizXiJiuv isu (TOi )tx6' yiiJiifo.*' (jlxXisx cs z^xiltcv o 
 * Say*//, K^ HOay doiTrols rxTTemlv ivQv[ji.rfi'r)a-f,i '^ bTE 
 ** Styx* iiti^v^/.^iaeis rttls." 
 
 " Death, exile, and all thir.gs which appear to be d?cad- 
 " fui, let these be before your eyes day by day : bt above
 
 NOTES. '!&* 
 
 I * att-^Deatb ; jourwill then esteem nothing too low,' nor 
 V "will you desire anv thing too ardently." 
 
 " *)* TSp'o(Ji.cvutj [Ji.c[Mnio'o MViXtftiv, oiroTcy istv, dm r 
 " o-fWxfolaTwx doy^oi/.B^. uv yurgxt TigY^^t on 
 
 " ay 'BJXi^ioi iTXVTh aalx^iX^s, ^ yvvxiKX, on ui^fuiiov 
 " Kx]x(piXeis. oiiToSxitovl'^ yxf xvrS, rxpxy(6ioay,^' 
 
 " Of every tliiug which either deiiglits the soul, or con- 
 " tributes to our use, remember and enquire the origin and 
 ' source beginning from tlie most minute. If you value a 
 " jar, (remember) that it is but ajar; for when it is brokea 
 " you will not be disturbed : if you love your son, or wife, 
 " (remember) that you love that which is but mortal, for 
 
 " when that mortal dies you will not be grieved immo- 
 
 " derately." 
 
 See also Aristotle, in his Ibth chnp. of Rhttoric. Tltpt 
 ya^tyruv.
 
 im 
 
 WOTE*, 
 
 i (d) P:56-L. 85D. 
 
 The reader will perWapr little suspect tbfihd' sach seniU 
 ments as the following, written by an Heathen who flou- 
 rished 400 years before the Christian era : 
 
 " Ofco' av r^iaixs t'lvoti^t rovs (xo<povs jS^oruv 
 
 " Tovrovs y,tyijryty [au^ixv of Xi<rx^v. 
 
 " AXAof yeyotr' (2v ccKKos, svoxi'/j^wii o v ey.'' 
 
 '' Mortal tilings I do not now for the first time coi\sider 
 " to be a meer shadow j and I confidenlly aflirui tliat those 
 ' who appear to be wise among men, and the hunters after 
 "strange words, acquire the greatest foolishness: for of 
 " mortal men no one is happy : but in tlie abundance of 
 " the things of this world one man may be more fortunate 
 ** than anotlicr, byt no man is absolutely happy ." 
 
 Ex Eurijndis Medea, L. 1 224.
 
 NOTES. lOt 
 
 (e) P. 61 L. 899. 
 
 The lovely and beloved daughter of tlie Rev. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wylde, of Burrington, m this county, (Somerset.) 
 The author $Jioiild do iieuUier justice toiler vintues, or give 
 scope to his own feelinjrs, if he did not offer to her surviv- 
 ing friends, and afflicted parents, tlie homage and sacrifice 
 of genuine admiratitin^ and mUingBtd {rov..
 
 ERRATA in BRENT KNOLL. 
 
 Line 278, read Orchis for Orcas. 
 Line 312, read seard for scar'd. 
 Line 391, read pawn'd for fawn'd. 
 Line 610, read plann'd for plan'd. 
 Line 746, read carcases for carcasses. 
 Line 871, read buoyant for buyout. 
 Line 905, read lowliness for loveliness. 
 
 Cruttwell, Printer, Sherborne. 
 
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