OF 
 UNIV1 
 
 PALIJ 
 
THE 
 
 GENIUS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 THAMES. 
 
T. Bensley, Fruiter, 
 Bolt Court, Fleet Street, London. 
 
THE 
 
 GENIUS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE THAMES 
 
 LYRICAL POEM, 
 
 IN TWO PARTS. 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR T. HOOKHAM, JUN. AND E. T HOOKHAM, 
 
 NO. 15, OLD BOND STREET; AND MANNERS AND 
 
 MILLER, EDINBURGH. 
 
 1810. 
 
PROCEMIUM. 
 
 was the choral song, 
 When in Arcadian vales, 
 Primeval shepherds twined the Aonian wreath 
 While in the dying gales, 
 That sighed the shades among, 
 Rapt fancy heard responsive spirits breathe. 
 Dryads and Genii wandered then 
 Amid the haunts of guileless men, 
 
 As yet unknown to strife : 
 Ethereal beings poured the floods, 
 Dwelt in the ever-waving woods, 
 
 And filled the varied world with intellectual life. 
 
VI 
 
 Ah ! whither are they flown, 
 Those days of peace and love, 
 So sweetly sung by bards of elder time? 
 When in the startling grove 
 The battle-blast was blown, 
 And misery came, and cruelty, and crime, 
 Far from the desolated hills, 
 Polluted meads, and blood-stained rills, 
 
 Their guardian genii flew; 
 And through the woodlands ,waste and wild, 
 Where erst perennial summer smiled, 
 Infuriate passions prowled, and wintry whirl- 
 winds blew. 
 
 Yet where light breezes sail 
 Along the sylvan shore, 
 The bard still feels a sacred influence nigh : 
 
Vll 
 
 When the far torrent's roar 
 Floats through the twilight vale, 
 And, echoing low, the forest-depths reply. 
 Nor let the throng his dreams despise, 
 Who to the rural deities 
 
 From courts and crowds retires: 
 Since human grandeur's proudest scheme 
 Is but the fabric of a dream, 
 A meteor-kindled pile, that, while we gaze, 
 expires. 
 
THE 
 
 GENIUS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 THAMES: 
 
 A LYRICAL POEM, 
 
 IN TWO PARTS. 
 KAAAISTOS nOTAMHN EIII TAIAK *IHZI. 'OM . 
 
THE 
 
 GENIUS OF THE THAMES. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Non e questo '1 terren, ch' i' toccai pria ? 
 
 Non e questo 1 mio nido, 
 
 Ove nudrito fui si dolcemente ? 
 
 Non e questa la patria in ch' io mi fido, 
 
 Madre benigna e pia, 
 
 Che copre 1'uno e 1'altro mio parente? 
 
 PETRARCA. 
 
ANALYSIS 
 
 FIRST PART. 
 
 AN autumnal night on the banks of the 
 Thames. Retrospect of early associations. 
 Eulogium of the Thames. Characters of se- 
 veral rivers of Great Britain. Acknowledged 
 superiority of the Thames. Address to the 
 Genius of the Thames. View of some of the 
 principal rivers of Europe, Asia, Africa, and 
 America. Pre-eminence of the Thames, Gene- 
 ral character of the river. The port of London. 
 The naval dominion of Britain, and extent 
 
6 
 
 of her commerce and navigation. Tradition 
 that an immense forest formerly occupied 
 the site of the metropolis. Episode of a 
 Druid, supposed to have taken refuge in that 
 forest, after the expulsion of the order from 
 Mona. 
 
THE 
 
 GENIUS OF THE THAMES. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 1 HE woods are roaring in the gale, 
 
 That whirls their fading leaves afar; 
 
 The crescent moon is cold and pale, 
 And swiftly sinks the evening star. 
 
 High on this mossy bank reclined 
 
 I listen to the eddying wind, 
 
 While Thames impels, with sinuous flow, 
 
 His silent- rolling stream below; 
 
And darkly waves the giant oak, 
 
 That broad, above, its stature rears ; 
 
 On whose young strength innocuous broke 
 The storms of unrecorded years. 
 
 Ye phantoms of enraptured thought, 
 By wild-inspiring fancy taught, 
 That oft the care-worn mind employ 
 In paths of visionary joy ! 
 Oh! bring again your genial aid, 
 In all your former charms arrayed, 
 As when you came, with life and love 
 
 The day-dreams of my youth to bless, 
 And led my sportive steps to rove 
 
 Through fairy-worlds of happiness. 
 
Then, while the cloudless morning smiled 
 
 Along the flower-enamelled shore, 
 I watched the waves, that, circling wild, 
 
 Passed onward, and returned no more: 
 And when the hollow-murmuring gale 
 
 Despoiled the treasures of the wood, 
 I loved to see the dry leaf sail, 
 
 Light-eddying down the silver flood. 
 By youth, and hope, and fancy blest, 
 Thedarkeningthought ne'er touched my breast' 
 That all my promised joys should fly, 
 Swift as those waves were hastening by, 
 And fancy's golden dreams be past, 
 Like leaves on the autumnal blast! 
 
10 
 
 All hail, ye breezes, loud and drear, 
 
 That peal the death-song of the year ! 
 
 Your rustling pinions waft around 
 
 A voice, that breathes no mortal sound, 
 
 And in mysterious accents sings 
 
 The flight of time, the change of things. 
 
 The seasons pass, in swift career: 
 
 Storms close, and zephyrs wake, the year: 
 
 The streams roll on, nor e'er return 
 
 To fill again their parent urn ; 
 
 But bounteous nature, kindly-wise, 
 
 Their everlasting flow supplies. 
 
 Like planets round the central sun, 
 
 The rapid wheels of being run, 
 
11 
 
 By laws, from earliest time pursued, 
 Still changed, still wasted, still renewed. 
 Reflected in the present scene, 
 Return the forms that once have been : 
 The present's varying tints display 
 The colors of the future day. 
 
 Ye bards, that, in these secret shades, 
 These tufted woods, and sloping glades, 
 Awoke, to charm the sylvan maids, 
 
 Your soul-entrancing minstrelsy ! 
 Say, do your spirits yet delight 
 To rove, b'eneath the starry night, 
 Along this water's margin bright, 
 
 Or mid the woodland scenery; 
 
12 
 
 And strike, to notes of tender fire, 
 With viewless hands, the shadowy lyre, 
 Till all the wandering winds respire 
 A wildly-awful symphony ? 
 
 Hark ! from beneath the aged spray 
 
 Where hangs my humbler lyre on high, 
 Soft music fills the woodlands grey, 
 
 And notes aerial warble by ! 
 What flying touch, with elfin spell, 
 Bids its responsive numbers swell ? 
 Whence is the deep jEolian strain, 
 
 That on the wind its changes flings? 
 Returns some ancient bard again, 
 
 To wake to life the slumbering strings ? 
 
IS 
 
 Or breathed the spirit of the scene 
 The lightly-trembling chords between, 
 Diffusing his benignant power 
 On twilight's consecrated hour ? 
 
 Were mine the art, with glowing hand 
 The flood of deathless song to pour, 
 
 That lyre should call the fairy band, 
 To press, oh Thames ! thy willowy shore ; 
 
 And weave for thee, with spells sublime, 
 
 The magic wreath of boldest rhyme, 
 
 And consecrate to latest time 
 The sweetly-changeful melody : 
 
 For never yet a nobler theme 
 
 Has filled the poet's midnight dream, 
 
14 
 
 Than thy serenely-winding stream, 
 The stream beloved of liberty ! 
 
 - 
 
 Even now, methinks, in solemn guise, 
 
 By yonder willowy islet grey, 
 I see thee, sedge-crowned Genius ! rise, 
 
 And point the glories of thy way. 
 
 Tall reeds around thy temples play; 
 Thy hair the liquid crystal gems : 
 
 To thee I pour the votive lay, 
 Oh Genius of the silver Thames ! 
 
 The shepherd-youth, on Yarrow braes, 
 Of Yarrow stream has sung the praise, 
 To love and beauty dear: 
 
15 
 
 And long shall Yarrow roll in fame, 
 Charm with the magic of a name, 
 And claim the tender tear. 
 Who has not wept, in pastoral lay 
 
 To hear the maiden's song of woe, 
 Who mourned her lover snatched away, 
 
 And plunged the sounding surge below ? 
 The maid, who never ceased to weep, 
 
 And tell the winds her tale of sorrow, 
 Till on his breast she sunk to sleep, 
 
 Beneath the lonely waves of Yarrow. 
 
 ( 
 
 The minstrel oft, at evening-fall, 
 
 Has leaned on Roxburgh's ruined wall, 
 
16 
 
 Where, on the wreck of grandeur past, 
 The wild wood braves the sweeping blast : 
 And while, beneath the embowering shade, 
 
 Swelled, loud and deep, his notes of flame, 
 Has called the spirits of the glade, 
 
 To hear the voice of Teviot's fame. 
 
 While artless love, and spotless truth, 
 Delight the waking dreams of youth ; 
 While nature's beauties, softly- wild, 
 Are dear to nature's wandering child ; 
 The lyre shall ring, where sparkling Tweed, 
 By red-stone cliff, and broom-flowered mead, 
 And ivied walls in fair decay, 
 Resounds along his rock-strown way. 
 
17 
 
 There oft the bard, at midnight still, 
 
 When rove his eerie steps alone, 
 Shall start to hear, from haunted hill, 
 
 The bugle-blast at distance blown : 
 And oft his raptured eye shall trace, 
 
 Amid the visionary gloom, 
 The foaming courser's eager pace, 
 
 The mail-clad warrior's crimson plume, 
 The beacons, blazing broad and far, 
 
 The lawless marchrnen ranging free, 
 And all the pride of feudal war, 
 
 And pomp of border chivalry. 
 
 * ** 
 
 Arid Avon too has claimed the lay, 
 Whose listening wave forgot to stray, 
 c 
 
18 
 
 By Shakespear's infant reed restrained : 
 And Severn, whose suspended swell 
 Felt the dread weight of Merlin's spell, 
 When the lone spirits of the dell 
 
 Of Arthur's fall complained. 
 And sweetly winds romantic Dee, 
 
 And Wye's fair banks all lovely smile : 
 But all, oh Thames! submit to thee, 
 The monarch -stream of Albion's isle. 
 
 From some ethereal throne on high, 
 Where clouds in nectar- dews dissolve, 
 
 The muse shall mark, with eagle-eye, 
 The world's diminished orb revolve. 
 
19 
 
 At once her ardent glance shall roll, 
 From clime to clime, from pole to pole, 
 O'er waters, curled by zephyr's wing, 
 
 O'er shoreless seas, by whirlwinds tost ; 
 O'er vallies of perennial spring, 
 
 And wastes of everlasting frost; t 
 O'er deserts vast of trackless sand, 
 Where famine leads her yelling band, 
 And death-blasts rush, on wings of fire, 
 To bid the thirst-crazed wretch expire; 
 O'er caverns of mysterious gloom ; 
 O'er lakes, where peaceful islets bloom ? 
 Like emerald spots, serenely-bright. 
 Amid a sapphire field of light; 
 
20 
 
 O'er mountain-summits, thunder-riven, 
 That rear eternal snows to heaven; 
 O'er rocks, in wild confusion hurled, 
 And woods, coeval with the world. 
 
 Her eye shall thence the course explore 
 
 Of every river wandering wide, 
 From tardy Lena's frozen shore 
 
 To vast La Plata's sea-like tide. 
 Where Oby's barrier-billows freeze, 
 
 And Dwina's waves in snow-chains rest : 
 Where the rough blast from Arctic seas 
 
 Congeals on Volga's ice-cold breast : 
 Where Rhine impels his gathering springs 
 
 Tumultuous down the Rhaetian steep : 
 
SI 
 
 Where Danube's world of waters brings 
 
 Its tribute to the Euxine deep : 
 Where Seine, beneath Lutetian towers, 
 
 Leads humbly his polluted stream, 
 Recalling still the blood-red hours 
 
 Of frantic freedom's transient dream : 
 Where crowns sweet Loire his fertile soil : 
 Where Rhone's impetuous eddies boil : 
 
 Where Garonne's pastoral waves advance, 
 
 Responsive to the song and dance, 
 When the full vintage calls from toil 
 
 The youths and maids of southern France : 
 Where horned Po's once-raging flood, 
 
 Now moves with slackened force along, 
 
22 
 
 By hermit-isle and magic wood, 
 
 The theme of old chivalric song: 
 Where yellow Tiber's turbid tide 
 
 In mystic murmurings seems to breathe 
 Of ancient Rome's imperial pride, 
 That passed away, as blasts divide 
 
 November's vapory wreath : 
 Where proud Tajo's golden river 
 
 Rolls through fruitful realms afar: 
 Where the sounding Guadalquiver 
 
 Wakes the thought of Moorish war; 
 Down whose blood-empurpled water 
 
 Mightiest chiefs, in death-cold sleep. 
 Victims stern of mutual slaughter, 
 
 Rolled towards the Atlantic deep : 
 
Where soft Peneus, smoothly flowing. 
 
 Or Mseander's winding shore, 
 Charm the pensive wanderer, glowing 
 
 With the love of Grecian lore: 
 Where Alpheus, wildly-falling, 
 
 Dashes far the sparkling spray; 
 In the eternal sound recalling 
 
 Lost Arcadia's heaven-taught lay; 
 Following dark, in strong commotion, 
 
 Through the night of central caves, 
 Deep beneath the unmingling ocean, 
 
 Arethusa's flying waves : 
 Where Tigris runs, in rapid maze : 
 Where swift Euphrates brightly strays; 
 
 To whose lone wave the night-breeze sings 
 
24 
 
 A song of half-forgotten days 
 
 And old Assyrian kings: 
 Where, Ganga's fertile course beside, 
 
 The Hindu roves, alone to mourn, 
 And gaze on heaven's resplendent pride, 
 
 And watch for Veeshnu's tenth return; 
 When fraud shall cease, and tyrant power 
 
 Torment no more, to ruin hurled, 
 And peace and love their blessings shower, 
 
 O'er all the renovated world: 
 Where Nile's mysterious sources sleep: 
 
 Where Niger sinks, in sands unknown : 
 Where Gambia hears, at midnight deep, 
 
 Afflicted ghosts for vengeance groan : 
 
25 
 
 When every wandering blast is breathing 
 
 A fearful tale, by woe inspired, 
 How, beneath the death-lash writhing, 
 
 Afric's injured sons expired: 
 Where Mississippi's giant-stream 
 
 Through savage realms impetuous pours : 
 Where proud Potomac's cataracts gleam, 
 
 Or vast Saint Lawrence darkly roars : 
 Where Amazon her pomp unfolds 
 
 Beneath the equinoctial ray, 
 And through her drear savannahs holds 
 
 Her long immeasurable way : 
 Where'er in youthful strength they flow, 
 
 Or seek old ocean's wide embrace, 
 
Her eagle-glance the muse shall throw, 
 And all their pride and power retrace : 
 
 Yet, wheresoe'er, from copious urn, 
 Their bursting torrents flash and shine. 
 
 Her eye shall not a stream discern 
 
 To vie, oh sacred Thames ! with thine. 
 
 Along thy course no pine-clad steep, 
 
 No alpine summits,, proudly tower ; 
 No woods, impenetrably deep, 
 
 O'er thy pure mirror darkly lower; 
 
 The orange-grove, the myrtle-bower, 
 The vine, in rich luxuriance spread; 
 
 The charms Italian meadows shower: 
 The sweets Arabian vallies shed ; 
 
sr 
 
 The roaring cataract, wild and white ; 
 
 The lotos-flower, of azure light ; 
 
 The fields, where ceaseless summer smiles; 
 
 The bloom, that decks the JEgean isles ; 
 
 The hills, that touch the empyreal plain, 
 
 Olympian Jove's sublime domain; 
 
 To other streams all these resign : 
 
 Still none, oh Thames ! shall vie with thine. 
 
 For wht avails the myrtle-bower, 
 Where beauty rests at noon-tide hour ; 
 The orange-grove, whose blooms exhale 
 Rich perfume on the ambient gale; 
 And all the charms, in bright array, 
 Which happier climes than thine display ? 
 
28 
 
 Ah! what avails, that heaven has rolled 
 
 A silver stream o'er sands of gold, 
 
 And decked the plain, and reared the grove, 
 
 Fit dwelling for primeval love; 
 
 If man defile the beauteous scene, 
 
 And stain with blood the smiling green ; 
 
 If man's worst passions there arise, 
 
 To counteract the favoring skies $ 
 
 If rapine there, and murder reign, 
 
 And human tigers prowl for gain, 
 
 And tyrants foul, and trembling slaves, 
 
 Pollute their shores, and curse their waves ? 
 
 Far other charms than these possess, 
 Oh Thames ! thy verdant margin bless : 
 
29 
 
 Where peace, with freedom hand-in-hand, 
 Walks forth along the sparkling strand, 
 And cheerful toil, and glowing health, 
 Proclaim a patriot nation's wealth. 
 The blood-stained scourge no tyrants wield : 
 No groaning slaves invert the field : 
 But willing labor's careful train 
 Crowns all thy banks with waving grain, 
 With beauty decks thy sylvan shades, 
 With livelier green invests thy glades, 
 And grace, and bloom, and plenty, pours 
 On thy sweet meads and willowy shores. 
 
 The field, where herds unnumbered rove, 
 The laurelled path, the beechen grove, 
 
30 
 
 The oak, in lonely grandeur free, 
 Lord of the forest and the sea ; 
 The spreading plain, the cultured hill, 
 The tranquil cot, the restless mill, 
 The lonely hamlet, calm and still ; 
 The village-spire, the busy town, 
 The shelving bank, the rising down, 
 The fisher's boat, the peasant's home, 
 The woodland seat, the regal dome, 
 In quick succession rise, to charm 
 The mind with virtuous feelings warm, 
 Till, where thy widening current glides 
 To mingle with the turbid tides, 
 Thy spacious breast displays unfurled 
 The ensigns of the assembled world. 
 
31 
 
 Throned in Augusta's ample port, 
 Imperial commerce holds her court. 
 
 And Britain's power sublimes : 
 To her the breath of every breeze 
 Conveys the wealth of subject seas. 
 
 And tributary climes. 
 Adventurous courage guides the helm 
 From every port of every realm : 
 Through gales that rage, and waves that whelm, 
 
 Unnumbered vessels ride : 
 Till all their various ensigns fly, 
 Beneath Britannia's milder sky, 
 Where roves, oh Thames! the patriot's eye 
 
 O'er thy refulgent tide. 
 
The treasures of the earth are thine : 
 For thee Golcondian diamonds shine: 
 For thee, amid the dreary mine, 
 The patient sufferers toil : 
 Thy sailors roam, a dauntless host, 
 From northern seas to India's coast, 
 And bear the richest stores they boast 
 To bless their native soil. 
 
 O'er states and empires, near and far, 
 While rolls the fiery surge of war, 
 Thy country's wealth and power increase, 
 Thy vales and cities smile in peace: 
 And still, before thy gentle gales, 
 The laden bark of commerce sails ; 
 
33 
 
 And clown thy flood, in youthful pride, 
 
 
 Those mighty vessels sternly glide, 
 
 Destined, amid the tempest's rattle, 
 
 To hurl the thunder-bolt of battle, 
 
 To guard, in danger's hottest hour, 
 
 Britannia's old prescriptive power, 
 
 And through winds, floods, and fire, maintain 
 
 Her native empire of the main. 
 
 The mystic nymph, whose ken sublime 
 Reads the dark tales of eldest time, 
 Scarce, through the mist of years, descries 
 Augusta's infant glory rise. 
 A race, from all the world estranged, 
 Wild as the uncultured plains they ranged, 
 
34 
 
 Here raised of yore their dwellings rude, 
 
 Beside the forest-solitude. 
 
 For then, as oJd traditions tell, 
 
 Where science now and splendor dwell, 
 
 Along the stream's wild margin spread 
 
 A lofty forest's mazes dread. 
 
 None dared to pierce, with step profane, 
 
 The darkness of its inmost reign, 
 
 Where dismal trees, of giant-size, 
 
 Entwined their tortuous boughs on hi 
 ]Nor hailed the cheerful morn's uprise, 
 
 Nor glowed beneath the evening sky. 
 The dire religion of the scene 
 
 The rustic's trembling mind alarmed : 
 
35 
 
 For oft, the parting boughs between, 
 'Twas said, a dreadful form was seen, 
 Of horrid eye, and threatening mien, 
 
 With lightning-brand and thunder armed. 
 Not there, in sunshine-chequered shade, 
 The sylvan nymphs and genii strayed; 
 But horror reigned, and darkness drear, 
 And silence, and mysterious fear: 
 And superstitious rites were done, 
 
 Those haunted glens and dells among, 
 That never felt the genial sun, 
 
 Nor heard the wild-bird's vernal song: 
 To gods malign the incense-pyre 
 Was kindled with unearthly fire, 
 
36 
 
 And human blood had oft bedewed 
 Their ghastly altars, dark and rude. 
 There feebly fell, at noon-tide bright, 
 A dim, discolored, dismal light, 
 Such as a lamp's pale glimmerings shed 
 Amid the mansions of the dead. 
 The Druid's self, who dared to lead 
 The rites barbaric gods decreed, 
 
 Beneath its gloom half-trembling stood : 
 As if he almost feared to mark, 
 In all his awful terrors dark, 
 
 The mighty monarch of the wood. 
 
 The Roman came : the blast of war 
 Re-echoed wide o'er hill and dell : 
 
37 
 
 Beneath the storm, that blazed afar, 
 
 The noblest chiefs of Albion fell. 
 Gaunt superstition howling fled, 
 With all her train of monsters dread : 
 The gods of terror, death, and gloom, 
 Cowered to the mightier gods of Rome. 
 The Druids looked, with eyes of fear, 
 From Mona's woods of gloom severe : 
 They saw the foe advancing near, 
 
 The death-fires blazing high : 
 
 % 
 Till on their groves of ancient oak 
 
 The smouldering flames of ruin broke, 
 
 And rolled abroad the volumed smoke 
 
 Lake storm-clouds on the sky. 
 
38 
 
 When desolation's fiery blast 
 O'er Mona's sacred groves had past ; 
 When circles rude of shapeless stone, 
 With lichens grey and moss o'ergrown, 
 And ashes black, remained alone, 
 To point the mystic scene, 
 Where once the Druids poured the hymn, 
 In sacrificial vestments grim, 
 What time the morning-radiance dim 
 
 Shot through the branches green; 
 When to the dust their pride was driven ; 
 
 When waste and bare their haunts appeared; 
 No more the oracles of heaven, 
 
 By gods beloved, by men revered, 
 
39 
 
 No refuge left but death or flight, 
 They rushed, unbidden, to the tomb, 
 
 Or veiled their heads in caves of night, 
 And forests of congenial gloom. 
 
 There stalked, in murky darkness wide, 
 
 Revenge, despair, and outraged pride : 
 
 Funereal songs, and ghastly cries, 
 
 Rose to their dire divinities. 
 
 Oft, in their feverish dreams, again 
 
 Their groves and temples graced the plain; 
 
 And stern Andraste's fiery form 
 
 Called from its caves the slumbering storm, 
 
 And whelmed, with thunder-rolling hand, 
 
 The flying Roman's impious band. 
 
40 
 
 It chanced, amid that forest's shade, 
 
 That frowned where now Augusta towers, 
 A Roman youth bewildered strayed, 
 
 While swiftly fell the evening hours. 
 Around his glance inquiring ran: 
 No trace was there of living man; 
 And tangling boughs and briars impede 
 The progress of his toiling steed. 
 The sun had sought the western deep : 
 No wind was heard the leaves to swejK_ 
 Forms indistinct before him flew : 
 The darkening horror darker grew ? 
 Till primal night, and central shades, 
 O'erhung those melancholy glades. 
 
41 
 
 Sudden, a blaze of lurid flame 
 With awful lustre flashing came 
 
 The matted foliage through : 
 Well could the astonished youth survey 
 The knotted trunks and branches grey, 
 That gleamed, as in Tartarean day, 
 
 With mystic radiance blue. 
 
 
 Startled the steed, with mane outspread, 
 
 Ears couched, and eye-balls straining red: 
 And feelings, wild and undefined, 
 Rushed on the Roman warrior's mind: 
 
 But deeper wonder filled his soul, 
 When on the dead still air around, 
 Like symphony from magic ground, 
 
 Mysterious music stole : 
 
42 
 
 Such strains as flow, when spirits keep, 
 Around the tombs where wizards sleep, 
 Beneath the cypress foliage deep, 
 
 The rites of dark solemnity: 
 And hands unearthly wildly sweep 
 
 The chords of elfin melody. . 
 The strains were sad : their changeful swell, 
 And plaintive cadence, seemed to tell 
 Of blighted joys, of hopes o'erthrown, 
 Of mental peace for ever flown, 
 Of dearest friends, by death laid low, 
 And tears, and unavailing woe. 
 Yet something of a sterner thrill 
 With those sad strains consorted ill, 
 
43 
 
 As if revenge had dared intrude 
 On hopeless sorrow's darkest mood. 
 
 The Roman urged his steed in vain, 
 Whose course the matted briars restrain : 
 
 The rider sprang to ground ; 
 And strove to pierce the forest- maze, 
 Guided by those sulphureous rays, 
 
 And that harmonious sound. 
 He forced his way with toil and pain : 
 At length his efforts passage gain ; 
 And opened then a narrow plain, 
 
 Which lowering oaks confine; 
 Oaks, that their infant buds unfurled, 
 To greet the birth-day of the world, 
 
44 
 
 When night's long reign, to ruin hurled, 
 
 Saw the first morning shine. 
 Embosomed in that lonely wood, 
 Of massy stones a circle stood ; 
 And, central in the sacred round, 
 Andraste's moss-grown altar frowned. 
 
 The mystic flame of lurid blue 
 
 There shed a dubious, mournful light, 
 
 And half-revealed to human view 
 The secret majesty of night. 
 
 An ancient man, in dark attire, 
 
 Stood by the solitary fire : 
 
 The varying flame his form displayed, 
 
 Half-tinged with light, half-veiled in shade. 
 
45 
 
 His grey hair, gemmed with midnight dew. 
 
 Streamed down his robes of sable hue : 
 
 His cheeks were sunk: his beard was white: 
 
 But his large eyes were fiery bright, 
 
 And seemed through flitting shades to range, 
 
 With wild expression, stern and strange. 
 
 There, where no wind was heard to sigh, 
 
 Nor wandering streamlet murmured by, 
 
 While every voice of nature slept, 
 
 The harp's symphonious strings he swept: 
 
 Such thrilling tones might scarcely be 
 
 The touch of mortal minstrelsy; 
 
 Now rolling loud, and deep, and dread, 
 
 As if the sound would wake the dead, 
 
46 
 
 Now soft, as if, with tender close, 
 To bid the parted soul repose. 
 
 The Roman youth with wonder gazed 
 On those dark eyes to heaven upraised, 
 Where struggling passions wildly shone, 
 With fearful lustre, not their own. 
 Half-doubtful, he the scene surveyed : 
 At length he left the friendly shade, 
 And moved towards the central flame : 
 But, ere his lips the speech could frame, 
 " And who art thou?" the Druid cried, 
 While flashed his burning eye-balls wide, 
 " Whose steps unhallowed boldly press 
 This sacred grove's profound recess? 
 
47 
 
 Ha! by my injured country's doom 
 I know the hated arms of Rome ! 
 Through this dark forest's pathless way 
 
 Andraste's self thy steps has led, 
 To perish on her altars grey, 
 
 A grateful offering to the dead. 
 Oh goddess stern ! one victim more 
 To thee his vital blood shall pour, 
 And shades of heroes, hovering nigh, 
 Shall joy to see a Roman die! 
 With that dread plant, that none may name, 
 
 I feed the insatiate fire of fate: 
 Roman ! with this tremendous flame 
 
 Thy head to hell I consecrate !" 
 
48 
 
 And, snatching swift a blazing brand, 
 
 He dashed it in the Roman's face, 
 And seized him with a giant's hand, 
 
 And dragged 'him to the altar's base. 
 Though worn by time and adverse fate, 
 Yet strength unnaturally great 
 He gathered then from deadly hate 
 
 And superstitious zeal : 
 A dire religion's stern behest 
 Alone his phrensied soul possessed; 
 Already o'er his victim's breast 
 
 Hung the descending steel. 
 
 The scene, the form, the act, combined, 
 A moment on the Roman's mind 
 
49 
 
 An enervating influence poured: 
 But to himself again restored, 
 Upspringing light, he grasped his foe, 
 And checked the meditated blow, 
 
 And dashed his arm aside : 
 Ill-fated Druid, doubly-foiled ! 
 Full on himself his steel recoiled, 
 And from his deep-struck bosom boiled 
 
 The life-blood's crimson tide. 
 The vital stream flowed fast away, 
 And stained Andraste's altars grey. 
 
 More ghastly pale his features dire 
 Gleamed in that blue funereal fire : 
 
50 
 
 The death-mists from his brow distilled: 
 
 But still his eyes strange lustre filled, 
 
 That seemed to pierce the secret springs 
 
 Of unimaginable things. 
 
 No longer, with malignant glare, 
 
 Revenge unsated glistened there, 
 
 And deadly rage, and stern despair : 
 
 All trace of evil passions fled, 
 
 He seemed to commune with the dead, 
 
 And draw from them, without alloy, 
 
 The raptures of prophetic joy. 
 
 A sudden breeze his temples fanned : 
 
 His harp, untouched by human hand, 
 
 Sent forth a sound, a thrilling sound, 
 
 That rang through all the mystic round: 
 
51 
 
 The incense-flame rose broad and bright, 
 In one wide stream of meteor-light. 
 He knew what power illumed the blaze, 
 
 What spirit swept the strings along ; 
 Full on the youth his kindling gaze 
 
 He fixed, and poured his soul in song. 
 
 Roman ! life's declining tide 
 From my bosom ebbs apace: 
 
 Vengeance have the gods denied 
 
 
 For the ruin of rny race. 
 
 Triumph not: awhile delayed 
 Sleeps the storm in central shade, 
 Doomed to burst, in fated hour, 
 On the pride of Roman power. 
 
52 
 
 Sweetly beams the morning ray: 
 
 Proudly falls the noon-tide glow : 
 See ! beneath the closing day, 
 
 Storm-clouds darken, whirlwinds blow ! 
 Sun-beams gild the tranquil shore : 
 Hark! the midnight breakers roar! 
 O'er the deep, by tempests torn. 
 Shrieks of shipwrecked souls are borne ! 
 
 Queen of earth, imperial Rome 
 Rules, in boundless sway confessed, 
 
 From the day-star's orient dome 
 To the limits of the west. 
 
 Proudest work of mortal hands, 
 
 The ETERNAL CITY stands: 
 
53 
 
 Bound in her all-circling sphere, 
 Monarchs kneel, and nations fear. 
 
 Hark ! the stream of ages raves : 
 Gifted eyes its course behold ; 
 Down its all-absorbing waves 
 
 Mightiest chiefs and kings are rolled. 
 Every work of human pride, 
 Sapped by that eternal tide, 
 Shall the raging current sweep 
 Tow'rds oblivion's boundless deep. 
 
 Confident in wide control, 
 
 Rome beholds that torrent flow, 
 
54 
 
 Heedless how the waters roll, 
 
 Wasting, mining, as they go. 
 That sure torrent saps at length 
 Walls of adamantine strength : 
 Down its eddies wild shall pass 
 Domes of marble, towers of brass. 
 
 As the sailor's fragile bark, 
 
 Beaten by the adverse breeze, 
 Sinks afar, and leaves no mark 
 Of its passage o'er the seas ; 
 So shall Rome's colossal sway 
 In the lapse of time decay, 
 Leaving of her ancient fame 
 But the memory of a name. 
 
55 
 
 Vainly raged the storms of Gaul 
 
 Round dread Jove's Tarpeian dome : 
 See in flames the fabric fall ! 
 
 'Tis the funeral pyre of Rome! 
 Red-armed vengeance rushes forth 
 In the whirlwinds of the north: 
 From her hand the sceptre riven 
 To transalpine realms is given. 
 
 Darkness veils the stream of time, 
 As the wrecks of Rome dissolve: 
 
 Years of anarchy and crime 
 In barbaric night revolve. 
 
 But the morning breaks again : 
 
 Peace resumes her ancient reign; 
 
56 
 
 Science holds her sacred sway 
 In the fields of orient day. 
 
 Long from earth by discord driven, 
 Where shall freedom build her home? 
 
 Where shall peace, the child of heaven, 
 Rest at last, and cease to roam? 
 
 Where the conquered ocean roars 
 
 Round my country's chalky shores; 
 
 Where the fostering sun-beams smile 
 
 On the sea -god's favorite isle ! 
 
 Hail ! all hail! my native land ! 
 Long thy course of glory keep : 
 
57 
 
 / 
 
 Long thy sovereign sails expand 
 
 O'er the subjugated deep ! 
 When of Rome's unbounded reign 
 Dust and shade alone remain, 
 Thou thy head divine shalt raise. 
 Through interminable days. 
 
 Death- mists hover: voices rise: 
 I obey the summons dread: 
 
 On the stone my life-blood dyes 
 Sinks to rest my weary head. 
 
 Far from scenes of night and woe, 
 
 To eternal groves I go, 
 
 Where for me my brethren wait 
 
 By Andraste's palace-gate. 
 

THE 
 
 GENIUS OF THE THAMES. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Quidquid sol oriens, quidquid et occidens 
 Novit; caeruleis oceanus fretis 
 Quidquid vel veniens vel fugiens lavat, 
 J&tas Pegaseo conripiet gradu. 
 
 SENECA. 
 
ANALYSIS 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 
 
 RETURN to the banks of the Thames. The 
 influence of spring on the scenery of the river. 
 The tranquil beauty of the vallies of the 
 Thames contrasted with the sublimity of more 
 open and elevated regions. Allusion to the 
 war on the Danube. Ancient^ wars on the 
 Thames. Its present universal peace. View 
 of the course of the Thames. Its source near 
 Kemble Meadow. Comparative reflections on 
 time. Ewan. Lechlade. Radcote. Godstow 
 
62 
 
 nunnery : Rosamond. Oxford. Apostrophe 
 to science. General character of the scenery 
 from Iffley to Cliefden. Windsor. Cooper's 
 Hill. Runnymead. Twitnam : Pope. Rich- 
 mond: Thomson, Chelsea and Greenwich. 
 
 The Tower. Tilbury Fort. Hadleigh Castle. 
 
 
 
 The Nore. General allusion to the illustrious 
 characters that have adorned the banks of the 
 Thames. A summer evening on the river at 
 Richmond. Comparative adversion to the an- 
 cient state of the Euphrates and Araxes, at 
 Babylon and Persepolis. Present desolation of 
 
 those scenes. Reflections on the fall of nations. 
 Conclusion. 
 
THK 
 
 GENIUS OF THE THAMES. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 vJw Genius of that sacred urn, 
 Adored by all the Naiad train L 
 
 Once more my wandering steps return 
 To trace the precincts of thy reign : 
 Once more, amid my native plain, 
 
 I roam thy devious course along, 
 And in the oaken shade again 
 
 Awake to thee the votive song. 
 
64 
 
 Dear stream! while far from tbee I strayed, 
 The woods, that crown my natal glade, 
 Have mourned on all the winds of heaven 
 Their yellow faded foliage driven ; 
 And winter, with tempestuous roar. 
 Descending on thy wasted shore, 
 Has seen thy turbid current flow 
 A deluge of dissolving snow. 
 
 
 But now, in spring's more soft control, 
 
 Thy turbid waves subside, 
 And through a narrower channel roll 
 
 A brighter, gentler tide. 
 Emerging now in light serene, 
 The meadows spread their robes of green, 
 
65 
 
 The Weeping willdw droops to lave 
 Its leafy tresses in the wave; 
 The poplar and the towering pine 
 Their hospitable shade combine; 
 And, flying like the flying day. 
 The silent river rolls away. 
 
 
 Not here, in dreadful grandeur piled, 
 
 The mountain's pathless masses rise, 
 Where wandering fancy's lonely child 
 
 Might meet the spirit of the skies : 
 Not here, from hiisty stimimts hoar, 
 
 Where shattered firs are rooted strong, 
 With headlong force ahd thundering roar 
 
 The bursting torrent foams along: 
 
66 
 
 These have their charms, sublimely-dread; 
 
 For nature on the mountain's head 
 
 Delights the treasures to dispense 
 
 Of all her wild magnificence: 
 
 But thou art sweet, my native stream ! 
 
 Thy waves in liquid lustre play. 
 And glitter in the morning beam, 
 
 And chime to rest the closing day: 
 While the vast mountain's dizzy steep 
 
 The whirlwind's eddying rage assails, 
 The gentlest zephyrs softly sweep 
 
 The verdure of thy sheltered vales: 
 While o'er the wild and whitening seas 
 
 The unbridled north triumphant roars, 
 
67 
 
 Thy stream scarce ripples in the breeze, 
 That bends the willow on thy shores: 
 And thus, while war o'er Europe flings 
 Destruction from his crimson wings; 
 While Danube rolls, with blood defiled, 
 And starts to hear, on echoes wild, 
 
 The battle-clangors ring; 
 Thy pure waves wash a stainless soil, 
 To crown a patriot people's toil, 
 And bless a patriot king. 
 
 Yet on these shores, in elder days, 
 Arose the battle's maddening blaze: 
 Even here, where now so softly swells 
 The music of the village-bells, 
 
The painted savage rolled to war 
 The terrors of the scythed car, 
 And wide around, with fire and sword, 
 The devastating Roman poured : 
 Here shouted o'er the battle-plain 
 The Pict, the Saxon, and the Dane : 
 And many a lojig succeeding year 
 Saw the fierce Norman's proud career, 
 The deadly hate of feudal foes, 
 The stain that dyed the pallid rose, 
 And all the sanguinary spoil 
 Of foreign and intestine broil. 
 
 But now, through banks from strife remote, 
 Thy crystal waters wind along, 
 
69 
 
 Responsive to the wild bird's note^ 
 
 Or lonely boatman's careless song. 
 Oh! ne'er may thy sweet echoes swell 
 Again with war's demoniac yell ! 
 Oh ! ne'er again may civil strife 
 Here aim the steel at kindred life! 
 Ne'er may those deeds of night and crime, 
 That stain the rolls of feudal time, 
 Again pollute these meads and groves, 
 Where science dwells, and beauty roves ! 
 And should some foreign tyrant's band 
 Descend to waste the beauteous land, 
 Thy swelling current, eddying red, 
 Shall roll away the impious dead. 
 
70 
 
 Let fancy lead, from Trewsbury Mead, 
 
 With hazel fringed, and copsewood deep, 
 Where scarcely seen, through brilliant green, 
 
 Thy infant waters softly creep, 
 To where the wide-expanding Nore 
 Beholds thee, with tumultuous roar, 
 
 Conclude thy devious race, 
 And rush, with Medway's confluent w T ave, 
 To seek, where mightier billows rave. 
 Thy giant-sire's embrace. 
 
 Where Kemble's wood-embosomed spire, 
 Above the tranquil valley swells 5 
 
 Where wild flowers wave, in rich attire, 
 Their starry cups and pendent bells 3 
 
71 
 
 In fields, with softest beauty bright, 
 Thy crystal sources rise to light; 
 While many an infant Naiad brings 
 The treasures of her subject springs : 
 And simply flows thy new-born stream, 
 
 Where brighter verdure streaks the meads, 
 Half-veiled from the meridian beam 
 
 By spear-grass tall, and whispering reeds. 
 
 Thames! when, beside thy secret source, 
 Remembrance points the mighty course 
 
 Thy defluent waters keep; 
 Advancing, with perpetual flow, 
 Through banks still widening as they go, 
 
 To mingle with the deep; 
 
72 
 
 Emblemed in thee, my thoughts survey 
 Unruffled childhood's peaceful hours, 
 
 And blooming youth's delightful way 
 
 Through sunny fields and roseate bowers; 
 
 And thus t;he scenes of life expand 
 
 Till death draws forth, witl,i steady hand, 
 Our names from, his capacious urn; ; 
 
 And doorns aJiHe the ba^e and good, 
 
 To pass that all-absorbing flood, 
 O'er which is no return. 
 
 Whence is the ample stream of time? 
 
 Can fancy's mightiest spellj display, 
 Where first began its flow sublime, 
 
 Or where its oi^wafd w^v<?& shall* stray? 
 
73 
 
 What gifted hand shall pierce the clouds 
 
 Oblivion's fatal magic rears, 
 And lift the sable veil, that shrouds 
 - The current of the distant years ? 
 The sage with doubt the past surveys, 
 
 Through mists which memory half dispels : 
 And on the course of future days 
 
 Impenetrable darkness dwells. 
 
 The present rolls in light : awhile 
 We revel in its transient smile, 
 
 Rejoicing as it flies : 
 Ephemera on the summer-stream, 
 Heedless of the descending beam, 
 
 Arid distant lowering skies. 
 
 \ 
 
74 
 
 False joys, with fading flowerets crowned, 
 And hope, too late delusive found, 
 
 And fancy's meteor- ray, 
 And all the passions, light and vain, 
 That fill ambition's fatal train, 
 
 Attend our downward way. 
 Some struggle on, by tempests driven : 
 To some a gentler course is given : 
 All down the self-same stream are rolled : 
 Their day is passed their tale is told. 
 
 Youth flies, as bloom forsakes the grove, 
 When icy winter blows : 
 
 And transient are the smiles of love, 
 As dew-drops on the rose. 
 
75 
 
 Nor may we call those things our own, 
 Which, ere the new-born day be flown, 
 By chance, or fraud, or lawless might, 
 Or sterner death's supreme award, 
 Will change their transitory lord, 
 And own another's right. 
 
 As oceans now o'er quicksands roar, 
 Where fields and hamlets smiled of yore; 
 As now the purple heather blows, 
 Where once impervious forests rose; 
 So perish from the burthened ground 
 
 The monuments of human toil : 
 Where cities shone, where castles frowned, 
 
 The careless ploughman turns the soil* 
 
76 
 
 How many a chief, whose kindling mind 
 Convulsed this earthly scene, 
 
 Has sunk, forgotten by mankind, 
 As if he ne'er had been ! 
 
 Even so the chiefs of modern days, 
 
 On whom admiring nations gaze, 
 
 Shall sink, by common fate oppressed : 
 
 Their name, their place, remembered not: 
 
 Not one grey stone to point the spot 
 Of their eternal rest. 
 
 Flow proudly, Thames ! the emblem bright 
 And witness of succeeding years ! 
 
 Flow on, ift freedom's sacred light, 
 Nor stained with blood > nor swelled with tears. 
 
77 
 
 Flow on, and still behold combined, 
 The peasant, warrior, prince, and sage, 
 
 With hand, and heart, and will, and mind, 
 Uphold their ancient heritage ! 
 
 Sweet is thy course, and clear, and still, 
 
 By Ewan's old neglected mill : 
 
 Green shores thy narrow stream confine, 
 
 Where blooms the modest eglantine, 
 
 And hawthorn-boughs o'ershadowing spread, 
 
 To canopy thy infant bed. 
 
 Now peaceful hamlets wandering through, 
 
 And fields in beauty ever new, 
 
 Where Lechlade sees thy current strong 
 
 First waft the unlaboring bark along; 
 
78 
 
 Thy copious waters hold their way 
 Tow'rds Radcote's arches, old and grey, 
 Where triumphed erst the rebel host, 
 When hapless Richard's hopes were lost, 
 And Oxford sought, with humbled pride, 
 Existence from thy guardian tide. 
 
 The wild-flower waves, in lonely bloom, 
 
 On Godstow's desolated wall : 
 There thin shades flit through twilight gloom, 
 
 And murmured accents feebly fall. 
 The aged hazel nurtures there 
 Its hollow fruit, so seeming fair, 
 And lightly throws its humble shade, 
 Where Rosa monda's form is laid. 
 
79 
 
 The rose of earth , the sweetest flower 
 
 That ever graced a monarch's breast, 
 In vernal beauty's loveliest hour, 
 
 Beneath that sod was laid to rest. 
 In vain the bower of love around 
 The daedalean path was wound : 
 Alas! that jealous hate should find 
 The clue for love alone designed! 
 
 The venom ed bowl, the mandate dire, 
 The menaced steel's uplifted glare, 
 
 The tear, that quenched the blue eye's fire,- 
 The humble, ineffectual prayer: 
 
 All these shall live, recorded long 
 
 In tragic and romantic song, 
 
80 
 
 And long a moral charm impart, 
 To melt and purify the heart. 
 A nation's gem^ a monarch's pride, 
 In youth, in loveliness, she died : 
 The morning sun's ascending ray 
 Saw none so fair, so blest, so gay: 
 Ere evening came, her funeral knell 
 Was tolled by Godstow's convent bell. 
 
 The marble tomb, the.illumined shrine, 
 Their ineffectual splendor gave : 
 
 Where slept in earth the maid divine, 
 The votive silk was seen to wave. 
 
 To her, as to a martyred saint, 
 
 His vows the weeping pilgrim poured : 
 
81 
 
 The drooping traveller, sad and faint, 
 
 Knelt there, and found his strength restored : 
 To that fair shrine, in solemn hour, 
 
 Fond youths and blushing maidens came, 
 And gathered from its mystic power 
 
 A brighter, purer, holier flame: 
 The lightest heart with awe could feel 
 
 The charm her hovering spirit shed : 
 But superstition's impious zeal 
 
 Distilled its venom on the dead ! 
 
 The illumined shrine has passed away: 
 The sculptured stone in dust is laid : 
 
 But when the midnight breezes play 
 Amid the barren hazel's shade, 
 G 
 
82 
 
 The lone enthusiast, lingering near, 
 
 The youth, whom slighted passion grieves, 
 Through fancy's magic spell may hear 
 
 A spirit in the whispering leaves; 
 And dimly see, while mortals sleep, 
 
 Sad forms of cloistered maidens move, 
 The transient dreams of life to weep, 
 
 The fading flowers of youth and love ! 
 
 Now, rising o'er the level plain, 
 Mid academic groves enshrined, 
 
 The Gothic tower, the Grecian fane, 
 Ascend, in solemn state combined. 
 
 Science, beneath those classic spires, 
 
 Illumes her watch-lamp's orient fires, 
 
And pours its everlasting rays 
 On archives of primeval days. 
 To her capacious view unfurled. 
 The mental and material world 
 
 Their secrets deep display : 
 She measures nature's ample plan, 
 To hold the light of truth to man, 
 
 And guide his erring way. 
 
 
 
 Long, Oxford ! may the nations see 
 A second Athens rise in thee! 
 Long see thy favored sons explore 
 The darkest paths of ancient lore ! 
 Long hear thy gifted bards prolong 
 The voice of rapture-breathing song ! 
 
84 
 
 While future Lockes, with ken refined, 
 Explore the labyrinth of mind ; 
 And Newtons pass, on wings sublime, 
 The barriers of the solar clime, 
 
 To trace, in spheres afar, 
 The mighty cause, the eternal ONE, 
 Whose spirit glows in every sun, 
 
 And lives in every star. 
 
 
 Oh sun-crowned science! child of heaven ! 
 
 To wandering man by angels given ! 
 Still, nymph divine ! on mortal sight 
 Diffuse thy intellectual light, 
 Till all the nations own thy sway, 
 And drink with joy the streams of day ! 
 
85 
 
 Yet lovest thou, maid ! alone to rove, 
 In cloister dim, or polished grove, 
 Where academic domes are seen 
 Emerging grey through foliage green ? 
 Oh ! hast thou not thy hermit seat, 
 
 Embosomed deep in mountains vast, 
 Where some fair valley's still retreat 
 
 Repels the north's impetuous blast ? 
 The falling stream there murmurs by: 
 The tufted pine waves broad and high : 
 And musing silence sits beneath, 
 Where scarce a zephyr bends the heath, 
 And hears the breezes, loud ana strong, 
 Resound the topmost boughs among. 
 
86 
 
 There peace her vestal lamp displays, 
 Undimmed by mad ambition's blaze, 
 And shuns, in the sequestered glen, 
 The storms that shake the haunts of men, 
 Where mean intrigue, and sordid gain, 
 And phrensied war's ensanguined reign, 
 And narrow cares, and wrathful strife, 
 Dry up the sweetest springs of life. 
 
 Oh ! might my steps, that darkly roam, 
 Attain at last thy mountain home, 
 And rest, from earthly trammels free$ 
 With peace*, and liberty, and thee ! 
 Around while faction's tempests sweep, 
 Like whirlwinds o'er the wintry deep, 
 
87 
 
 And, down the headlong vortex torn, 
 The vain, misjudging crowd is borne; 
 'Twere sweet to mark, re-echoing far, 
 The rage of the eternal war, 
 That dimly heard, at distance swelling, 
 Endears, but not disturbs, thy dwelling. 
 
 But sweeter yet, oh trebly sweet ! 
 Were those blest paths of calm retreat, 
 Might mutual love's endearing smile 
 The lonely hours of life beguile ! 
 Love, sweetest link of nature's chain, 
 True source of pleasure, balm of pain ! 
 Whose spicy breath and dewy wing 
 Give fragrance to the gales of spring; 
 
88 
 
 Whose starry torch and kindling eye 
 Add lustre to the summer sky; 
 Whose tender accents cheer the day, 
 When autumn's wasting breezes sway; 
 Whose heavenly flame the bosom warmSj 
 When freezing winter wakes in storms ! 
 
 Not in the glittering halls of pride, 
 Where spleen and sullen pomp reside^ 
 Around though Paphian odors breathe, 
 And fashion twines her fading wreath^ 
 Young fancy wakes her native grace. 
 Nor love elects his dwelling-place. 
 But in the lone, romantic dell, 
 Where the rural virtues dwell, 
 
Where the sylvan genii roam, 
 Mutual love may find a home. 
 Hope, with raptured eye, is there, 
 Weaving wreaths of pictured air : 
 Smiling fancy there is found, 
 Tripping light on fairy ground, 
 Listening oft, in pine-walks dim, 
 To the wood-nymph's evening hymn* 
 
 When the northern breezes blow, 
 When the ground is white with snow, 
 There the distant traveller sees 
 The smoke curl high o'er bending trees; 
 While beauty, by the social fire, 
 Awakes to life the artless lyre, 
 
90 
 
 And sweetly pours, with fond employ, 
 The simple lays of rural joy. 
 
 But whither roams the devious song, 
 While Thames, unheeded, flows along, 
 And, sinking o'er the level mead, 
 The classic domes and spires recede ? 
 The dashing oar the wave divides : 
 The light bark down the current glides: 
 The furrowed stream, that round it curls, 
 In many a murmuring eddy whirls. 
 Succeeding each as each retires, 
 Wood-mantled hills, and tufted spires, 
 Groves, villas, islets, cultured plains, 
 Towers, cities, palaces, and fanes, 
 
91 
 
 From beauteous Iffley's rustic height 
 To Cliefden's springs of liquid light, 
 As holds the stream its swift career, 
 Arise, and pass, and disappear. 
 
 The Norman king's embattled towers 
 Look proudly o'er the subject plain > 
 Where, deep in Windsor's regal bowers, 
 
 The sylvan in uses hold their reign. 
 From groves of oak, .whose branches hoar 
 Have heard primeval tempests roar, 
 Beneath the moon's pale ray they pass 
 Along the shore's unbending grass, 
 And songs of gratulation raise, 
 To speak a patriot monarch's praise. 
 
Sweetly, on yon poetic hill, 
 
 Strains of unearthly music breathe^ 
 Where Denham's spirit, hovering still, 
 
 Weaves his wild harp's aerial wreath. 
 And sweetly, on the mead below, 
 The fragrant gales of summer blow : 
 While freedom's pristine fire shall glow, 
 
 That mead shall live in memory, 
 Where valor, on the tented field, 
 Triumphant raised his patriot shield, 
 The voice of truth to kings revealed, 
 
 And broke the chains of tyranny. 
 
 The stream expands: the meadows fly: 
 The stately swan sails proudly by : 
 
93 
 
 Full,, clear, and bright, with devious flow. 
 The rapid waters murmuring go. 
 Now open TwitnanVs classic shores, 
 Where yet the moral muse deplores 
 
 Her Pope's unrivalled lay : 
 Unmoved by wealth, unawed by state, 
 He held to scorn the little great, 
 
 And taught life's better way. 
 Though tasteless folly's impious hand 
 Has wrecked the scenes his genius planned ;- 
 Though low his fairy grot is laid, 
 And lost his willow's pensive shade; 
 Yet shall the ever-murmuring stream, 
 That lapt his soul in fancy's dream, 
 
94 
 
 Its vales with verdure cease to crown, 
 Ere fade one ray of his renown. 
 
 Fair groves, and villas glittering bright, 
 Arise on Richmond's beauteous height ; 
 Where yet fond echo warbles o'er 
 The heaven-taught songs she learned of yore. 
 From mortals veiled, mid waving reeds, 
 
 The airy lyre of Thomson sighs, 
 And whispers to the hills and meads: 
 
 " In yonder grave a Druid lies!" 
 The Seasons there, in fixed return, 
 Around their minstrel's holy urn 
 Perennial chaplets twine: 
 
95 
 
 Oh ! never shall their changes greet, 
 Immortal bard ! a song more sweet, 
 A soul more pure than thine! 
 
 Oh Thames ! in conscious glory glide 
 By those fair piles that crown thy tide, 
 Where, worn with toil, from tumult far, 
 The veteran hero rests from war. 
 Here, marked by many a well-fought field, 
 On high the soldier hangs his shield; 
 The seaman there has furled his sail, 
 Long rent by many an adverse gale. 
 Remembered perils, braved and past, 
 The raging fight, the whelming blast, 
 
96 
 
 The hidden rock, the leeward shore, 
 The mountain-billow's deepening roar, ; 
 Recalled by fancy's spell divine. 
 Endear their evening's cairn decline, 
 And teach their children, listening near, 
 To emulate their sires' career. 
 
 But swiftly urge the gliding bark, 
 By yon stern walls and chambers dark, 
 Where guilt and woe, in night concealed, 
 Unthought, unwitnessed, unrevealed, 
 Through lengthened ages scowling stood, 
 Mid shrieks of death, and tears of blood. 
 No heart may think, no tongue declare, 
 The fearful mysteries hidden there: 
 
97 
 
 Justice averts her trembling eye, 
 And mercy weeps, and hastens by. 
 
 . 
 Long has the tempest's rage been spent 
 
 On yon unshaken battlement, 
 Memorial proud of days sublime, 
 Whose splendor mocks the power of time. 
 There, when the distant war-storm roared, 
 While patriot thousands round her poured, 
 The British heroine grasped her sword, 
 
 To trace the paths of victory : 
 But in the rage of naval fight, 
 The island-genius reared his might, 
 And stamped, in characters of light, 
 
 His own immortal destiny. 
 H 
 
98 
 
 Ascending dark, on uplands brown. 
 The ivied walls of Hadleigh frown : 
 High on the lonely mouldering tower 
 Forms of departed ages lower. 
 But deeper, broader, louder, glide 
 The waves of the descending tide; 
 And soon, where winds unfettered roar, 
 Where Medway seeks the opening Nore, 
 Where breakers lash the dark-red steep, 
 The barks of Britain stem the deep. 
 
 Oh king of streams ! when, wandering slow, 
 I trace thy current's ceaseless flow, 
 And mark, with venerating gaze, 
 Reflected on thy liquid breast, 
 
99 
 
 The monuments of ancient days, 
 
 Where sages, bards, and statesmen rest; 
 Who, waking erst the ethereal mind, 
 Instructed, charmed, and blessed mankind; 
 The rays of fancy pierce the gloom 
 That shrouds the precincts of the tomb, 
 And call again to life and light 
 The forms long wrapped in central night. 
 From abbies grey and castles old, 
 Through mouldering portals backward rolled, 
 Glide dimly forth, with silent tread, 
 The shades of the illustrious dead. 
 Still dear to them their native shore, 
 The woods and fields they loved of yore; 
 
100 
 
 And still, by farthest realms revered^ 
 Subsists the rock-built tower they reared, 
 Though lightnings round its summit glow, 
 And foaming surges burst below. 
 
 Thames ! I have roamed, at evening hours, 
 Near beauteous Richmond's courtly bowers, 
 When, mild and pale, the moon-beams fell 
 On hill and islet, grove and dell ; 
 And many a skiff, with fleecy sail 
 Expanded to the western gale, 
 Traced on thy breast, serenely- bright, 
 The lengthening line of silver light; 
 And many an oar, with measured dash 
 Accordant to the boatman's song, 
 
101 
 
 Bade thy pellucid surface flash, 
 
 And whirl, in glittering rings, along; 
 While from the broad and dripping blade 
 
 The clear drops fell, in sparkling showers, 
 Bright as the crystal gems, displayed 
 
 In Amphritite's coral bowers. 
 There beauty wooed the breeze of night, 
 
 Beneath the silken canopy^ 
 And touched, with flying fingers light, 
 
 The thrilling chords of melody. 
 It seemed, that music's inmost soul 
 
 Was breathed upon the wandering airs, 
 Charming to rest, with sweet control, 
 
 All human passions, pains, and cares. 
 
102 
 
 Enthusiast voices joined the sound, 
 
 And poured such soothing strains around, 
 
 That well might ardent fancy deem, 
 
 The sylphs had led their viewless band, 
 To warble o'er the lovely stream 
 
 The sweetest songs of fairyland. 
 Now, breathing wild, with raptured swell, 
 
 They floated o'er the silent tide; 
 Now, soft and low, the accents fell, 
 And, seeming mystic tales to tell, 
 In heavenly murmurs died. 
 
 Yet that sweet scene of pensive joy 
 Gave mournful recollections birth. 
 
103 
 
 And called to fancy's wild employ 
 
 The certain destinies of earth. 
 I seemed to hear, in wakening thought, 
 
 While those wild minstrel accents rung, 
 Whate'er historic truth had taught, 
 
 Or philosophic bards had sung. 
 Methought a voice, severe and strange, 
 Whispered of fate, and time, and change, 
 And bade my wandering mind recall, 
 How nations rise, and fade, and fall. 
 
 Thus fair, of old, Euphrates rolled, 
 
 By Babylon's imperial site: 
 The lute's soft swell, with magic spell, 
 
 Breathed rapture on the listening night : 
 
104 
 
 Love-whispering youths and maidens fair 
 In festal pomp assembled there, 
 Where to the stream's responsive moan 
 The desert-gale now sighs alone. 
 
 Still changeless, through the fertile plain, 
 
 Araxes, loud-resounding, flows, 
 Where gorgeous despots fixed their reign, 
 
 And Chil-minar's proud domes arose. 
 High on his gem -emblazoned throne 
 
 Sate kneeling Persia's earthly god : 
 Fair slaves and satraps round him shone, 
 
 And nations trembled at his nod : 
 The mighty voice of Asia's fate 
 Went forth from every golden gate. 
 
105 
 
 Now pensive steps the wrecks explore, 
 
 That skirt the solitary shore: 
 
 The time-worn column mouldering falls, 
 
 And tempests rock the roofless walls. 
 
 The days, that swiftly-circling run, 
 May see on Britain's western sun 
 
 Portentous darkness rise; 
 And hear her guardian Nereid's dirge 
 Float o'er the hollow-sounding surge, 
 While fast from ocean's heaving verge 
 
 The last faint splendor flies : 
 And thou, dear stream ! beloved in vain 
 By sacred freedom's chosen train, 
 
 Whose banks wealth, pomp, and beauty fill! 
 
106 
 
 Reft of the wise, the brave, the good, 
 Like them may'st roll, a lonely flood, 
 Deserted, drear, and still. 
 
 Where are the states of ancient fame? 
 Athens, and Sparta's victor-name, 
 And all that propped, in war and peace, 
 The arms, and nobler arts, of Greece ? 
 All-grasping Rome, that proudly hurled 
 Her mandates o^er the prostrate world, 
 Long heard mankind her chains deplore, 
 And fell, as Carthage fell before. 
 
 Is this the crown, the final meed, 
 To man's sublimest toils decreed? 
 
107 
 
 Must all, from glory's radiant height, 
 Descend alike the paths of night ? 
 Must she, whose voice of power resounds 
 On utmost ocean's loneliest bounds, 
 In darkness meet the whelming doom 
 That crushed the sovereign strength of Rome, 
 And o'er the proudest states of old 
 The storms of desolation rolled ? 
 
 Time, the foe of man's dominion, 
 Wheels around in ceaseless flight, 
 
 Scattering from his hoary pinion 
 Shades of everlasting night. 
 
 Still, beneath his frown appalling, 
 Man and all his works decay : 
 
108 
 
 Still^ before him, swiftly-falling, 
 Kings and kingdoms pass away. 
 
 Perchance, when many a distant year, 
 
 Urged by the hand of fate, has flown. 
 Where moonbeams rest on ruins drear, 
 
 The musing sage may rove alone; 
 And many an awful thought sublime 
 
 May fill his soul, when memory shews. 
 That there, in days of elder time, 
 
 The world's metropolis arose ; 
 Where now, by mouldering walls, he sees 
 
 The silent Thames unheeded flow, 
 And only hears the river-breeze, 
 
 Through reeds and willows whispering low. 
 
109 
 
 Cannot the hand of patriot zeal, 
 The heart that seeks the public weal, 
 
 The comprehensive mind, 
 Retard awhile the storms of fate, 
 That, swift or slow, or soon or late, 
 Shall hurl to ruin every state, 
 
 And leave no trace behind ? 
 
 Oh Britain ! oh my native land ! 
 
 To science, art, and freedom dear ! 
 Whose sails o'er farthest seas expand, 
 
 And brave the tempest's dread career ! 
 When comes that hour, as come it must, 
 That sinks thy glory in the dust, 
 
110 
 
 May no degenerate Briton live, 
 Beneath a stranger's chain to toil, 
 
 And to a haughty conqueror give 
 The produce of thy sacred soil ! 
 Oh! dwells there one, on all thy plains, 
 If British blood distend his veins, 
 Who would not burn thy fame to save, 
 Or perish in his country's grave ? 
 
 Ah ! sure, if skill and courage true 
 
 Can check destruction's headlong way, 
 
 Still shall thy power its course pursue, 
 Nor sink, but with the world's decay. 
 
 Long as the cliff that girds thy isle 
 The bursting surf of ocean stems, 
 
Ill 
 
 Shall commerce, wealth, and plenty smile 
 
 Along the silver-eddying Thames: 
 Still shall thy empire's fabric stand, 
 Admired and feared from land to land, 
 Through every circling age renewed, 
 Unchanged, unshaken, unsubdued ; 
 As rocks resist the wildest breeze, 
 That sweeps thy tributary seas. 
 

 
NOTES. 
 
NOTES 
 
 ON THE 
 
 FIRST PART. 
 
 Page 14. Tall reeds around thy temples play : 
 Thy hair the liquid crystal gems: 
 To thee I pour the votive lay, 
 Oh Genius of the silver Thames ! 
 
 " Huic deus ipse loci fluvio Tiberinus amceno 
 Populeas inter senior se adtollere frondes 
 Visus : eum tenuis glauco velabat amictu 
 Carbasus, et crines umbrosa tegebat arundo." 
 
 ViRG.JE.VIII.31. 
 
 THE belief in tutelary GENII, or AAIMONEE, 
 originated, in the infancy of mythology, from 
 a superstitious reverence paid by mankind to 
 the spirits of their kindred, whom they sup- 
 posed to be invested by the gods with immor- 
 
116 
 
 tality, and to dwell invisibly on the earth, the 
 good guardians of their race : 
 
 HESIOD. 
 
 But the agency of these GENII became, in 
 succeeding ages, more extensive and compli- 
 cated, and retained 110 trace of its origin. 
 
 In the Roman mythology, the GENII of per- 
 sons were beings, mortal like the individuals 
 whom they guarded, and to whom they were 
 inseparably attached : 
 
 " . . . ; . GENIUS, natale comes qui temperat astrum, 
 Naturae deus humanae, mortalis in unum- 
 Quodque caput, vultu mutabilis, albus et ater." 
 
 HOR. Ep. II. 2. 187. 
 
 They had a degree of supernatural power, 
 which they were supposed to exert in favor 
 of their mortal charge, whose happiness they 
 promoted, and whose injuries they avenged. 
 Hence it became customary to swear by the 
 GENIUS of another. Ignoscet mihi GENIUS 
 
117 
 
 tuus'," says the ridiculous Trimalchio/' noluisses 
 e manuillius panem accipere." " Ego si mentior" 
 says Niceros his guest,, " GENIOS vestros iratos 
 habeam" They delighted in days of festivity, 
 which were sacred to them ; and were rendered, 
 placable and beneficent by copious libations of 
 wine: 
 
 ff Agricolae prisci, fortes, parvoque beati 
 
 Cum sociis operum, pueris et conjuge iida, 
 Tellurem porco, Silvanum lacte, piabant 5 
 Floribus et vino GENIUM, memorem brevis aevi." 
 
 Postquam coepit agros extendere victor, et urbem 
 Latior amplecti murus, vinoque diurno 
 Placari GENIUS festis impune diebus, 
 Accessit numerisque modisque licentia major." 
 
 HOR. EP. II. 1. 139. A.P. 208. 
 
 
 The lover sacrificed to the GENIUS of his 
 
 mistress, and implored his favor for the success 
 of his addresses. Tibullus, on a similar sub- 
 ject^ says: 
 
118 
 
 fe Mutuus adsit amor; tua per dulcissima fiirta, 
 Perque tuos oculos, per GENIUMCIUE rogo. 
 Magne GENI, cape thura libens, votisque faveto." 
 
 But though the tutelary GENIUS was mor- 
 tal, he was not supposed to be annihilated on 
 the decease of the individual to whom he was 
 attached. When the spirit of his earthly com- 
 panion passed the nine interfusions of the Styx, 
 the umbra of the GENIUS continued to hover 
 around the spot where the terrestriaJ remains 
 were interred, and to watch, in silence and so- 
 litude, over the ashes of the departed. The 
 survivors poured out libations of milk and wine 
 to the GENIUS of the Sepulchre, and scattered 
 flowers on the shrine rendered sacred by his 
 presence. 
 
 Some have supposed two GENII to have been 
 attributed to each individual : unus qui hortatur 
 ad bona, alter qui depravat ad mala. SERVIUS, 
 ad MX. VI. 743. 
 
 Every natural scene had likewise its presid- 
 ing GENIUS, whose mysterious influence dif- 
 
119 
 
 fused itself over all who entered the precincts 
 of his dominion. The rivers, rocks, and woods, 
 were animated with ethereal intelligence; and 
 the creative fancy of the poet expatiated in the 
 fields of imaginary being, which popular cre- 
 dence invested with the influence of real ex- 
 istence, and which the gravest philosophy 
 scarcely ventured to reject. The tutelary 
 AAIM&N of Socrates was not a simple chimera : 
 it was a firm conviction of the presence of a 
 supernatural being, that held sensible commu- 
 nion with his mind, and directed its deci- 
 sions. 
 
 The GENIUS LOCI was pleased with the 
 homage of mortals, and testified his approba- 
 tion by diffusing new charms on the scenery 
 over which he presided. The rivers 'fio'wed 
 with softer murmurs, the flowers exhaled more 
 delightful fragrance, and the woods waved with 
 more beautiful undulations. 
 
 Sometimes even the GENIUS LOCI became 
 visible to human sight. Such appears to have 
 
120 
 
 been the serpent (a form held by the ancients 
 in particular veneration), which appeared to 
 at the tomb of his father. 
 
 f< Hoc raagis incepto genitori instaurat honores, 
 Incertus, GENIUMNE loci, famulumne parentis, 
 Esse putet." - JEx. V. 94. 
 
 Numa took advantage of this branch of po- 
 pular superstition, to impose on the Romans 
 his nocturnal conferences with the nymph 
 JEgeria. (S Lucus erat, quern medium ex opaco 
 specu fans perenni rigabat aqua : quo quia se per- 
 s&pe Numa sine arbitris y velut ad congressum Dea, 
 inferebat, Camanis eum lucum sacravit ; quod 
 earum ibi concilia cum conjuge sua Egerid essent." 
 Liv. I* 21. 
 
 The influence of the GENII LOCORUM was 
 not confined to the scenes of nature, but ex- 
 tended to the dwellings of men. " Ita TU- 
 TELAM hujus loci habeam propitiam," says one of 
 the conliberti in the triclinium of Trimalchio, 
 " ut ego, si secundum ilium discumberem, jam illi 
 alapam duxissem." 
 
121 
 
 Of all these fabulous beings, the GENII and 
 NYMPHS of rivers and fountains received the 
 largest portion of human adoration. In them, 
 the imagination of the polytheist readily dis- 
 cerned the agency of powerful and benevolent 
 spirits, diffusing wealth and fertility over the 
 countries they adorned. " Rivers are wor- 
 shipped/' says Maximus Tyrius (Dissertatio 
 VIII. Ei $soi$ aystA^ara IfyvTsov), on account of 
 their utility, as the Nile by the Egyptians; or 
 of their beauty, as the Peneus by the Thessa- 
 lians; or of their magnitude, as the Danube 
 by the Scythians; or of mythological tradi- 
 tions, as the Achelous by the JEtolians ; or of 
 particular laws, as the Eurotas by the Spar- 
 tans; or of religious institutions, as the Ilissus 
 by the Athenians/' 
 
 The antiquity and universality of the wor- 
 ship of rivers are illustrated by Mr. Bryant, in 
 the Analysis of Ancient Mythology. " The 
 ancient Cuthites, and the Persians after them, 
 had a great veneration for fountains and 
 
122 
 
 streams; which also prevailed among other 
 nations^ so as to have been at one time almost 
 universal. Of this regard among the Persians 
 Herodotus takes notice : ^e^ovrai 7foToc^s$ *wv ifav- 
 fwv paXitrTa : Of all things in nature they reve- 
 rence rivers most. The natives of Egypt had 
 the like veneration. Other nations, says Atha- 
 nasius, reverenced rivers and fountains; but, above 
 all the people in the world, the Egyptians held them 
 in the highest honor, and esteemed them as divine. 
 Julius Firmicus gives the same account of 
 them : JEgyptii aqua benefici urn percipientes aquam 
 colunty aquis supplicant. From hence the cus- 
 tom passed westward to Greece, Italy, and the 
 extremities of Europe. In proof of which, the 
 following inscription is to be found in Gruter : 
 
 VASCANI^E IN H1SPANIA 
 
 FONTI DIVING. 
 
 How much it prevailed among the Romans we 
 learn from Seneca : " Magnorumfluviorum capita 
 veneramur coluntur aquarum calentiumfontes; et 
 
123 
 
 qu&dam stagna, qua vel opacitas, vel immensa alti- 
 tudo sacravit." 
 
 To this may be added the authority of Ci- 
 cero : " Fontis delubrum Maso ex Corsica dedica- 
 vit; et in augurum precatione Tiberinum, Spino- 
 nem, Almonem, Nodinum, alia propinquorum flu- 
 minumnominavidemus" De Nat. Deor. 111.20. 
 
 Sir William Jones, in his Discourse on the 
 Gods of Greece, Italy, and India, remarks, 
 that " the notion of Dr Musgrave, that large 
 rivers are supposed, from their strength and ra- 
 pidity, to be conducted by gods, while rivulets 
 only were protected by female deities, is, like 
 most other notions of grammarians on the gen- 
 ders of nouns, overthrown by facts. Most of 
 the great Indian rivers are feminine : and the 
 three goddesses of the waters, whom the Hin- 
 dus chiefly venerate, are Ganga, who sprang, 
 like armed Pallas, from the head of the Indian 
 Jove; Yamuna, daughter of the Sun; and 
 Sereswati." 
 
324 
 
 Beings, similar to the GENII of classical 
 mythology, may be found in almost every other 
 mythological system. Their importance in 
 that of the Hindus is evident from what has 
 been said above: there are some traces of them 
 in various parts of the Zend-Avesta : and many 
 authorities concur to shew that they entered 
 into the religious tenets of the disciples of 
 Confucius. 
 
 " Numberless divinities/' says Sir William 
 Jones, in the discourse cited above, (i have 
 been created solely by the magic of poetry; 
 whose essential business it is, to personify the 
 most abstract notions, and to place a NYMPH 
 and a GENIUS in every grove, and almost in 
 every flower." 
 
 The philosopher, who imagines the silent 
 energy of the Deity continually exerted on all 
 that surrounds him, who sees, in the expansion 
 of the leaves of the forest, in the everlasting 
 flow of the rivers, in the eternal cohesion of 
 the mountains, and in all the phenomena of 
 
125 
 
 the mental and material world, so many mani- 
 festations of the existence of God, has a more 
 exalted idea of the universe than the enthu- 
 siast of old, who assigned to every individual 
 place and person its own presiding spirit; but 
 the sensations of the latter were infinitely more 
 enviable than those of the modern observer 
 of nature, who sees around him only a splendid 
 picture, which he acknowledges to be the 
 work of a divine artist, but in which he feels 
 not the sublime consciousness of an ever-pre- 
 sent intelligence. 
 
 Page 20. Where the rough blast from Arctic seas 
 Congeals on Volga's ice-cold breast. 
 
 " And Volga, on whose face the north-wind freezes." 
 
 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. 
 
 Page 2 1 . Where Rhine impels his gathering springs 
 Tumultuous down the Rhatian steep. 
 
 <f Rhenus, Raeticarum Alpium inaccesso ac prsecipiti 
 vertice ortus.." TACITUS. 
 
126 
 
 Page 21. Where horned Po's once-raging flood 
 Now moves with slackened force along. 
 
 f( Et gemina auratus taurino cornua voltu 
 Eridanus : quo non alius per pinguia culta 
 In mare purpureum violentior effluit amnis." 
 
 VIRG. G. IV. 371. 
 
 " Impetuosissimum amnem olim Padum fuisse, ex 
 aliis locis manifestum est$ quanquam nunc ejus natura 
 diversa esse narratur." HEYNE, ad loc. cit. 
 
 Page 22. Guadalquiver. 
 
 te Glassy water, glassy water, 
 
 Down whose current clear and strong 
 Chiefs confused in mutual slaughter, 
 Moor and Christian, roll along." 
 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 Page 23. Alpheus. 
 
 The river Alpheus was enamoured of Are- 
 thusa, a nymph of Diana. The goddess, to 
 save her from his pursuit, changed her into a 
 fountain, and opened a passage for her under 
 
127 
 
 the sea to the island of Ortygia near Syracuse. 
 The impetuous river followed by the same 
 channel, and rose in the same place " Fons 
 est (Arethusa) in quo visuntur jacta in Alpheum 
 amnem, Peloponnesiaco litori infusum: unde ille 
 creditur non se consociare pelago, sed subter maria 
 terrasque depressus, hue agere alveum, atque hie se 
 rursus extollere." POMPONTUS MELA, de situ 
 orbis. 1. II. c. 9. 
 
 Page 23. Deep beneath the unmingling ocean. 
 
 f&v 
 , KB luyvvTou v$a,<riv u^ 
 
 MOSCHUS, Id. VII. 
 
 Page 24. Feeshnu's tenth return. 
 
 The three principal Indian deities are 
 Brahma, Veeshnu, and Seva. Veeshnu has 
 been nine times incarnated for the preserva- 
 tion of the world. The tenth, or Calci, Avatar, 
 will produce the total dissolution and subse- 
 quent renovation of nature. " For the de- 
 
128 
 
 struction of all the impure/' says the poet 
 Jayadeva, " thou drawest thy cimeter blazing 
 like a comet (how tremendous!), oh Cesava, 
 assuming the body of Calci: be victorious, oh 
 Heri, lord of the universe!" 
 
 Page 24. Where Nile's mysterious sources sleep. 
 
 Bruce penetrated to the source of the 
 eastern branch of the Nile: that of the western, 
 which is the principal branch, has never yet 
 been visited by any European. 
 
 Page 24. Where Niger sinks, in sands unknown. 
 
 The Niger has been generally supposed to 
 terminate in a lake in the desert, where its 
 waters are evaporated by the heat of the sun. 
 Mr. Jackson, in his account of the empire of 
 Morocco, adduces authorities to shew, that 
 the Nile and the Niger are actually the same 
 river; a supposition which Major Rennell, in 
 his geographical illustrations of Mr. Park's 
 Travels in Africa, had previously demonstrated 
 
129 
 
 to be altogether inadmissible. Non nostrum 
 
 . t ant as componere lites. 
 
 Page 34. Along the stream's wild margin spread 
 A lofty forest's mazes dread. 
 
 The existence of this forest is attested by 
 Fitzstephens. Some vestiges of it remained in 
 the reign of Henry the Second. 
 
 Page 34. Where dismal trees, of giant-size, 
 
 Entwined their tortuous boughs on high . 
 
 Several lines in this description being imi- 
 tated from Virgil, Lucan, and Tasso, i subjoin 
 at large the passages to which I atn indebted. 
 
 " Hinc ad Tarpeiam sedem et Capitolia ducit, 
 Aurea mine, olim silvestribus horrida dumis. 
 Jam turn relligio pavidos terrebat agrestes 
 Dira loci ; jam turn silvam, saxumque tremebant. 
 Hoc nemus, hunc, inquit, frondoso vertice collem, 
 Quis deus incertum est, habitat deus : Arcades ipsum 
 Credunt se vidisse Jovem, quum saepe nigrantem 
 concutcret dextra, nimbosque cieret." 
 
 VIRG. ^EN. VIII. 346. 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 Lucus erat, longo nunquam violatus ab aevo, 
 Obscurum cingens connexis aera ramis, 
 Et gelidas alte submotis solibus umbras. 
 Hunc non ruricolae Panes, nemoramque potentes 
 Silvani Nymphaeque tenent : sed barbara ritu 
 Sacra deum -, structae diris feralibus arae; 
 Omnis et humanis lustrata cmoribns arbos. 
 Si qua fidem meruit superos mirata vetustas, 
 Illis et volucres metuunt insistere ramis, 
 Et lustris recubare ferae : nee ventus in illas 
 Incubuit silvas, excussaque nubibus atris 
 Fulmina : non ullis frondem prsebentibus auris, 
 Arboribus suus horror inest : turn plurima nigris 
 Fontibus unda cadit; simulacraque maesta deorum 
 Arte carent, caesisque exstant informia truncis. 
 Ipse situs, putrique facit jam robore squalor 
 Adtonitos; non vulgatis sacrata figuris 
 Numina sic metuunt: tantum terroribus addit 
 duos timeant non nosse deos. Jam fama ferebat 
 Saepe cavas motu terrae mugire cavernas, 
 Et procumbentes iterum consurgere taxos^ 
 Et non ardentis fulgere incendia silvae : 
 Koboraque amplexos circumfluxisse dracones. 
 
131 
 
 Non ilium cultu populi priore frequentant, 
 Sed cessere dels. Medio cum Phoebus in axe est, 
 Aut coslun?. nox atra tenet, pavet ipse sacerdos 
 Accessus, dominumque timet deprendere Inci. 
 
 Luc. PHARS. III. 399, 
 
 Sorge non lungi alle cristiane tende 
 Tra solitarie valli alta foresta, 
 Foltissima di piante antiche, orrende, 
 Che spargon d'ogn' intorno ombra funesta. 
 Qui, nell'ora che'l sol pifr chiaro splende, 
 E luce incerta, e scolorita, e mesta, 
 Quale in nubilo ciel dubbia si vede, 
 Se '1 dl alia notte, o s'ella a lui succede. 
 
 Ma, quando parte il sol, qui tosto adombra 
 
 Notte, nube, caligine, ed orrore, 
 
 Che rassembra infernal, che gli occhi ingombra 
 
 Di cecita, ch'empie di tema il core. 
 
 Ne qui gregge od armenti a'paschi, alPombra, 
 
 Guida bifolco mai, guida pastore 5 
 
 Ne v'entra peregrin, se non smarrito, 
 
 Ma lunge passa, e la dimostra a dito. 
 
 TASSO, G. L. XIII f 2. 3. 
 
132 
 
 Page 37. Till on their groves of ancient oak 
 
 The smouldering flames of ruin broke. 
 
 The conquest of Mona by Suetonius Pau- 
 lirius, the destruction of the sacred woods, and 
 consequent dispersion of the Druids, took 
 place about the year of Rome 814. See Ta- 
 citus, Ann. XIV. 29- 
 
 Page SQ Arid stern Andraste'sjieryform 
 
 Called from its caves the slumbering 
 storm. 
 
 " Amongst our Britons," says Mr. Baxter, 
 as quoted by Mr. Davies, Mythology and Rites 
 of the British Druids, p. 6 17, " even of the pre- 
 sent day, Andras is a popular name of the god- 
 dess Malen, or the lady, whom the vulgar call 
 y Vail, that is, Fauna Fatua, and Mam y Drwg, 
 
 the Devil's dam, or Y Wrach, the old hag. 
 
 Some regarded her as a flying spectre. 
 
 That name corresponded not only with Hecate, 
 Bellona, and Enyo, but also with Bona Dea, 
 
133 
 
 the great mother of the gods, and the terrestrial 
 
 Venus. In*the fables of the populace, she 
 
 is styled Y Vad Ddu Hyll, that is, Bona Furva 
 Ejfera, and on the other hand, Y Vad Ve/en, 
 that is, Helena, or Bona Flava.- - - -Agreeably 
 to an ancient rite, the old Britons cruelly 
 offered human sacrifices to this Andrasta: 
 whence, as Dion relates, our amazon, Vondicca 
 (Boadicea) invoked her with imprecations, 
 previous to her engagement with the Romans. 
 The memory of this goddess, or fury, remains 
 to the present day; for men in a passion growl 
 at each other, Mae rhyw Andras arnochwi; Some 
 Andrasta possesses you." 
 
 Page 4?. Thy head to hell I consecrate. 
 
 " Te, Appi, tuumque caput sanguine hoc consecro." 
 Liv. III. 48. 
 
 " Agli infernali dei 
 Con questo sangue il capo tuo consacro." 
 
 ALFIERI. 
 
134 
 
 Page 55. See inflames the fabric fall ! 
 'Tis the funeral pyre of Rome! 
 
 (f Sed nihil aeque, quam incendium Capitolii, ut 
 finem imperio adesse crederent, impulerat. Captam olim 
 a Gallis urlem; sed> Integra Jovis sede, mansisse impe- 
 rium. Fatali nunc igne, signum coelestis irce datum, et 
 possessvmem rerum humanarum transalpinis gentilus 
 portendi, superstitione vand Druidce canelant." ^TA- 
 CITUS. HIST. IV. 54. 
 
135 
 
 NOTES 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 Page 63. Once more my wandering steps return 
 To trace the precincts of thy reign. 
 
 I am induced to insert in this place, as in 
 some measure connected with the subject, a 
 little poem written during the absence alluded 
 to in the text. 
 
 STANZAS WRITTEN AT SEA. 
 
 Thou white-rolling sea ! from thy foam-crested billows,, 
 
 That restlessly flash in the silver moon-beam, 
 In fancy I turn to the* green- waving willows, 
 
 That rise by the side of my dear native stream. 
 There softly in moonlight soft waters are playing, 
 
 Which light-breathing zephyrs symphoniously sweep ; 
 While here the loud wings of the north- wind are swaying, 
 
 And whirl the white spray of the wild-dashing deep. 
 
136 
 
 Sweet scenes of my childhood! with tender emotion, 
 
 Kind memory, still wakeful, your semblance ppurtrays : 
 And I sigh, as I turn from the wide-beating ocean 
 
 To the paths where I roamed in my infantine days. 
 In fancy before me the pine-boughs are waving, 
 
 Beneath whose deep canopy musing I strayed 5 
 In crystalline waters their image is laving, 
 
 And the friends of my bosom repose in their shade. 
 
 Ye fair-spreading fields, which fertility blesses ! 
 
 Ye rivers, that murmur with musical chime ! 
 Ye groves of dark pine, in whose sacred recesses 
 
 The nymph of romance holds her vigils sublime ! 
 Ye heath-mantled hills, in lone wildness ascending ! 
 
 Ye vallies, true mansions of peace and repose ! 
 Ever green be your shades, nature s children defending, 
 
 Where liberty sweetens what labor bestows. 
 
 *' 
 
 Oh blest, trebly blest, is the peasant's condition ! 
 
 From courts and from cities reclining afar, 
 He hears not the summons of senseless ambition, 
 
 The tempests of ocean, and tumults of war. 
 
137 
 
 Round the standard of battle though thousands may rally 
 When the trumpet of glory is pealing aloud, 
 
 He dwells in the shade of his own native valley, 
 And turns the same earth which his forefathers ploughed. 
 
 In realms far remote while the merchant is toiling, 
 
 In search of that wealth he may never enjoy j 
 The land of his foes while the soldier is spoiling, 
 
 When honor commands him to rise and destroy 5 
 Through mountainous billows, with whirlwinds contending, 
 
 While the mariner bounds over wide-raging seas, 
 Still peace, o'er the peasant her mantle extending, 
 
 Brings health and content in the sigh of the breeze. 
 
 And happy, who, knowing the world and its treasures, 
 
 Far, far from his home its allurements repels, 
 And leaves its vain pomps and fantastical pleasures, 
 
 For the woodlands where wisdom with solitude dwells. 
 With the follies of custom disdaining compliance, 
 
 He leaves not his country false riches to find 5 
 But content with the blessings of nature and science, 
 
 He pants for no wealth but the wealth of the mind. 
 
138 
 
 The beauties are his of the sweet-blushing morning, 
 
 The dew-spangled field, and the lark's matin-song, 
 And his are the charms the full forest adorning, 
 
 When sport the noon -breezes its branches among: 
 And his, sweeter yet, is the twilight of even, 
 
 When melts the soft blush from the far-flashing floods, 
 And fancy descends from the westerly heaven, 
 
 To talk with the spirit that sings in the woods. 
 
 In some hermit-vale had kind destiny placed me, 
 
 'Mid the silence of nature all lonely and drear, 
 Oh, ne'er from its covert ambition had chaced me, 
 
 To join the vain crowd in its phrensied career! 
 In the haunts of the forest my fancy is dwelling, 
 
 In the mystical glade, by the lone river's shore, 
 Though wandering afar where the night-breeze is swelling, 
 
 And waters unbounded tumultuously roar. 
 
 I hail thee, dark ocean, in beauty tremendous ! 
 
 I love the hoarse dash of thy far-sounding waves ! 
 But he feels most truly thy grandeur stupendous, 
 
 Who in solitude sits mid thy surf-beaten caves. 
 
139 
 
 From thy cliffs and thy caverns, majestic and hoary, 
 Be mine to look forth on thy boundless array 5 
 
 Alone to look forth on thy vast-rolling glory, 
 And hear the deep lessons thy thunders convey. 
 
 But hope softly whispers, on moon-beams descending : 
 
 Despond not, oh mortal ! thy sorrows are vain : 
 The heart, which misfortune and absence are rending, 
 
 Love, friendship, and home, shall enrapture again. 
 Though the night- billows rave to the tempest's commotion, 
 
 In the mild breath of morning their fury shall cease : 
 And the vessel, long tossed on the storm- troubled ocean, 
 
 Shall furl her torn sails in the harbour of peace. 
 
 Page 65. The poplar and the towering pine 
 Their hospitable shade combine; 
 And, flying like the flying day, 
 The silent river rolls away. 
 
 Qua pinus ingens albaque populus 
 Umbram hospitalem consociare amant 
 Ramis, et obliquo laborat 
 
 Lympha fugax trepidare rivo. 
 
 HOR. CARM. III. 3. 
 
140 
 
 Page 70. Trewsbury Mead. 
 
 The Thames rises in a field called Trews- 
 bury Meadj near the villages of Tarlton and 
 Kemble, in Gloucestershire. 
 
 Page 72. Whence is the ample stream of time? 
 
 " Whence is the stream of years ? whither do they 
 roll along ? where have they hid, in mist, their many- 
 coloured sides ?" OSSIAN. 
 
 Page 75. Nor may we call those things our own 
 
 f< tanquam 
 
 Sit proprium quidquam, puncto quod mobilis horae, 
 Nunc prece, mine prelio, mine vi, nunc sorte suprema, 
 Permutet dominos, et cedat in altera jura." 
 
 HOR. EP. II. 2. 
 
 Page 73. Where triumphed erst the rebel host, 
 
 When hapless Richard's hopes were lost, 
 ,And Oxford sought, with humbled pride, 
 Existence from thy guardian tide. 
 
 Radcote bridge is a very ancient structure: 
 the period of its foundation is unknown. Ro- 
 
141 
 
 bert de Vere, Earl of Oxford and Duke of 
 Ireland, the favorite of Richard the Second, 
 was defeated in this vicinity by the Earl of 
 Derby, in the year 1387, and escaped by swim- 
 ming with his horse across the river. 
 
 Page 78. The aged hazel nurtures there 
 
 Its hollow fruit, so seeming fair ; 
 And lightly throws its humble shade, 
 Where Rosamonda'sform is laid. 
 
 A small chapel, and a wall, enclosing an 
 ample space, are all now remaining of Godstow 
 Nunnery. A hazel grows near the chapel, the 
 fruit of which is always apparently perfect, but 
 is invariably found to be hollow. 
 
 This nunnery derives its chief interest from 
 having been the burial-place of Rosamond. 
 The principal circumstances of her story are 
 thus related by Stowe : " Rosamond, the fair 
 daughter of Walter Lord Clifford, concubine 
 to Henry II. (poisoned by Queen Eleanor, as 
 some thought) died at Woodstock (A.D. 1177), 
 
142 
 
 where king Henry had made for her a house 
 of wonderful working ; so that no man or wo- 
 man might come to her, but he that was in- 
 structed by the king, or such as were right 
 secret with him touching the matter. This 
 house, after some, was named Labyrinthus, or 
 Da?dalus work, which was wrought like unto a 
 knot in a garden, called a maze: but it was 
 commonly said, that lastly the queen came to 
 her by a clue of thread, or silk, and so dealt 
 with her, that she lived not long after: but 
 when she was dead, she wa buried at Godstow, 
 in a house of nuns, beside Oxford, with these 
 verses upon her tomb : 
 
 Hicjacet in tumba, Rosa mundi, non Rosa munda: 
 Non redolet, sed olet, quae redolere solet." 
 
 After her death, she appears to have been 
 considered as a saint, from the following in- 
 scription on a stone cross, which, Leland says, 
 was erected near the nunnery: 
 
 Qui meat hue, oret, signumque salutis adoret, 
 Utque sibi detur venianr, Rosamunda precetur. 
 
143 
 
 | 
 
 Page 8 1 . But superstition's impious zeal 
 
 Distilled its venom on the dead. 
 
 A fanatical priest, Hugh bishop of Lincoln, 
 visiting the nunnery at Godstow, and observ- 
 ing a tomb, covered with silk, and splendidly 
 illuminated, which he found, on inquiry, to be 
 the tomb of Rosamond, commanded her to be 
 taken up, and buried without the churchy lest the 
 Christian religion should grow into contempt. This 
 brutal order was instantly obeyed: but the 
 chaste sisters/' says Speed, " gathered her 
 bones, and put them in a perfumed bag, en- 
 closing them so in lead, and laid them again 
 in the church, under a fair large grave- stone, 
 about whose edges a fillet of brass was inlaid, 
 and thereon written her name and praise: 
 these bones were at the suppression of the 
 nunnery so found." 
 
144 
 
 | 
 Page 91- The Norman king's embattled towers 
 
 Look proudly o'er the subject plain. 
 
 c * The earliest and most authentic notice of 
 Windsor is found in the instrument of dona- 
 tion, which King Edward the Confessor made 
 thereof, among other lands, to the monastery 
 of Saint Peter, Westminster. It did not, how- 
 ever, continue long in their possession; as 
 William the Conqueror, in the first year of his 
 reign, being enamoured of its pleasant situ- 
 ation, prevailed on the abbot and monks of 
 Westminster to exchange it for Wokendane, 
 Fenings, and other places in the county of 
 Essex. Indeed, no sooner was he in possession 
 of the place, than he built a royal seat, or 
 castle, on the summit of the hill: for as early 
 as the fourth year of his reign, it is recorded 
 that he kept his court, and ordered a synod to 
 be held here at Whitsuntide." 
 
 HISTORY OF THE RIVER THAMES. 
 
145 
 
 Page 97- Justice averts her trembling eye, 
 And mercy weeps, and hastens by. 
 
 fe Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa: 
 Misericord! a e giustizia gli sdegna : 
 Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa." 
 
 DANTE. 
 
 Page 98. Where breakers lash the dark-red steep. 
 The red cliffs of the isle of Sheppy. 
 
 Page 104. Still changeless, through the fertile plain, 
 
 Praxes, loud-resounding, flows, 
 Where gorgeous despotsjixed their reign, 
 And Chil-minar's proud domes arose. 
 
 66 The plain of Persepolis is watered by the 
 great river Araxes, or Bendemir. The ancient 
 palace of the kings of Persia, called by the in- 
 habitants Chil-minar, i. e. forty columns, is situ- 
 ated at the foot of the mountain : the walls of 
 
146 
 
 this stately building are still standing on three 
 sides ; and it has the mountain on the east/' 
 
 UNIVERSAL HISTORY. 
 
 Page 100. And fel^ as Carthage fell before" 
 
 Sannazarius, in his poem De partu Virginis, 
 has a fine passage on the fallen state of Car- 
 thage, which Tasso has imitated in the Geru- 
 salemme Liberata. 
 
 " Et qui vertentes; immania saxa juvencos 
 Flectit arans, qua devictae Carthaginis arces 
 Procubuere, jacentque infausto in litore turres 
 Eversse. Quantum ilia metus, quantum ilia laborum 
 Urbs dedit insultans Latio et Laurentibus arvis ! 
 Nunc passim vix relliquias, vix nomina servans., 
 Obruitur propriis non agnoscenda minis. 
 Et querimur genus infelix humana labare 
 Membra aevo, cum regna palam moriantur, et urbes." 
 
 SANNAZ. DE PART. VIRG. II. 213* 
 
147 
 
 " Giace 1'alta Cartago : appena i segni 
 
 Dell'alte sue mine il lido serba, 
 
 Muojono le citta" 5 muojono i regni ; 
 
 Copre i fasti e le pompe arena ed erba : 
 E 1'uom d'esser mortal par che si sdegni. 
 Oh nostra mente cupida e superba!" 
 
 TASSO, G. L. XV. 2O. 
 
 Page 111. Along the silver-eddying Thames. 
 
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