O silent spirit of the place, If lingering with the ruined year, Thy hoary form and awful face I yet might watch and worship here! Thy storm were music to my ear, Thy wildest walk a shelter given Sublimer thoughts on earth to find, And share, with no unhallowed mind, The majesty of heaven. What though the bosom friends of Fate,— Thy consolations cannot rate, Though darkened by the clouds of Care, On her the world hath never smiled To thee that misanthrope shall fly! I mark her proud but ravaged form, Peace to her banished heart, at last, And triumph o'er opposing Fate, But dost thou, Folly, mock the muse Then fly, thou towering, shivering thing, Away, thou lover of the race That hither chased yon weeping deer! More pitiless than man's appear; His art and honours wouldst thou seek Where senates light their airy halls, To rouse the slumbering fiends of war, From clime to clime pursue the scene, Where only anchorites have trod, In such a far forsaken vale, And such sweet Eldun vale is thine, Afflicted nature shall inhale Heaven-borrowed thoughts and joys divine; No longer wish, no more repine For man's neglect or woman's scorn ; Then wed thee to an exile's lot, For if the world hath loved thee not, Its absence may be borne. ai.. And warh- the mi An Day's latest. 1 veliest sudle: aw the bright, broad. in vin. Sal up the sapphire skies of June! Kirkstall Abbey Revisited. DRAWN BY C.COPE. ENGRAVED BY E.FINDEN PUBLISHED BY HURST. ROBINSON. &C LONDON. |