THK H UMBER WOLDS. 25 



Roll their blight current through the purpled land. 

 Within the vale of Brantingham, when eve 

 Turns slowly into night, and sombre shades 

 Enshroud all objects, making them appear 

 Of magnitude sublime, the pointed hills. 

 And rugged steeps with furze or pine trees clad, 

 'Mid the deceptive gloominess, a scene 

 Of mountain grandeur cast upon the sight. 



Is there a portion of the British isles 



Where nature in more rich profusion casts 



The choicest of her treasures ! Where she crowds 



All her mild beauties in so small a space ! 



It seems a spot where she has deigned to bind 



Her fairest wreath of sight-delighting flowei-s ; 



Her richest temple, where she would display 



The winning softness of her gentle smile. 



And chaui all hearts in admiration's bonds ! 



Sweet hills of beauty ! be it oft my lot 

 To wander o'er ye, when the light of morn 

 With yellow lustre gilds your loveliness ; 

 When noon-tide radiance pours its silver tide 

 Of keen refulgence, making all things seem 

 The brighter visions of a fairy world ; — 

 But chief when eve with her unnumbered tints. 

 Her rainbow dyes, her sky-descended hues. 

 Paints every landscape, and brings out to view 

 Sweet lights and shades inimitably soft. 

 Supremely delicate, uitensely fair. 



May all your beauties on my spirit cast 

 Reflection of their beauty, and create 

 Within my mind those rich illumined thoughts. 

 Which, linked with numbered language, shall become 

 Soft songs of soul-entrancing poesy. 



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