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"Soft flow'd the lay by Avon's sedgy side, While o'er its streams the drooping willow hung Beneath whose shadow Silvio fondly tried To check the opening roses as they sprung. In vain he bade them cease to court the gale, That wanton'd balmy on the zephyr's wing; In vain, when Philomel renew'd her tale, He chid her song, and said 'It was not Spring.
Under his spurning feet, the road Like an arrowy Alpine river flow'd, And the landscape sped away behind Like an ocean flying before the wind; And the steed like a bark fed with furnace ire; Swept on, with wild eye full of fire. But lo! he is nearing his heart's desire; He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray, With Sheridan only five miles away.
These wells furnish water for two mountain districts. The water is of the purest quality, clear as crystal, aye, clear as "Siloa's brook that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God." The road to them is very difficult, over rattling, rumbling stones, and rocks, and precipices, and it is hard work for the poor women who fetch the water, for the wells are distant nearly three miles from our village.
When all the riches of the globe beside Flow'd in to thee with every tide; When all that nature did thy soil deny, The growth was of thy fruitful industry; When all the proud and dreadful sea, And all his tributary streams, A constant tribute paid to thee, Extended Thames.
"Turn, turn thy hasty foot aside, Nor crush that helpless worm; The frame thy wayward looks deride None but our God could form. "The common Lord of all that move, From whom thy being flow'd, A portion of His boundless love On that poor worm bestow'd. "The light, the air, the dew He made To all His creatures free, And spreads o'er earth the grassy blade For them as well as thee.
When Winston, with his fox-hunters of Surry, dashed recklessly through the woods, says a chronicler of the battle, and the last to come into position, Flow'd in, and settling, circled all the lists, then From all the circle of the hills death sleeted in upon the doomed. The battle was decisive in its effect shattering the plans of Cornwallis, which till then appeared certain of success.
'The seeds of affliction and pain, When the soil has been moistened with rain That flow'd from a penitent heart, Into beauty, and fragrance will start. 'Oh flowers of celestial birth! Though springing from clods of the earth, How rich are the odours ye shed O'er the couch where the languishing head
Poor Irus' faithful wolf-dog here I lie, That wont to tend my old blind master's steps, His guide and guard: nor, while my service lasted, Had he occasion for that staff, with which He now goes picking out his path in fear Over the highways and crossings; but would plant, Safe in the conduct of my friendly string, A firm foot forward still, till he had reach'd His poor seat on some stone, nigh where the tide Of passers by in thickest confluence flow'd: To whom with loud and passionate laments From morn to eve his dark estate he wail'd.
"Such were her lovely limbs, so flushed her charming face So round her neck! her eyes so fair! So rose her swelling chest! so flow'd her amber hair! While her swift feet outstript the wind, And left the enamor'd God of Day behind." Certes, Booth was in love when he wrote this eulogy.
Canto II. which I cannot here omit transcribing. Drayton, sweet ancient bard, his Albion sung, With their own praise, their ecchoing vallies rung; His bounding muse o'er every mountain rode, And ev'ry river warbled where he flow'd. In 1619 came out his first folio-volume of poems. In 1622 the second part of his Poly-olbion was published, making in all thirty books or songs.
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