190 Stonehenge and its Barrotcs. 



And fling new radiance on " Tradition's page " : 



See ! at thy eall^ from Fable's varied store, 



In shadowy train the mingled visions pour; 



Here the wild Briton, 'mid his wilder reign, 



Spurns the proud yoke, and scorns the oppressor's chain ; 



Here wizard ^Merlin, where the mighty fell, 



Waves the dark wand, and chaunts the thrilling spell. 



Hark ! 'tis the Bardic lyre, whose harrowing strain 



Wakes the rude echoes of the slumbering plain ; 



Lo ! 'tis the Druid pomp, whose lengthening line 



In lowest homage bends before the shrine. 



He comes — the priest — amid the sullen blaze 



His snow-white robe in spectral lustre pjlays; 



Dim gleam the torches through the circling night. 



Dark curl the vapours round the altar's light; 



O'er the black scene of death, each conscious star. 



In lurid glory, rolls its silent car. 



'Tis gone ! E'en now the mystic horrors fade 

 From Sarum's loneliness, and Mona's glade; 

 Hush'd is each note of Taliesin's lyre, 

 Sheath'd the fell blade, and quench'd the fatal fire. 

 On wings of light Hope's angel form appears. 

 Smiles on the past, and points to happier years : 

 Points, with uplifted hand, and raptur'd eye. 

 To yon pure dawn that floods the opening sky ; 

 And views at length the Sun of Judah pour 

 One cloudless noon o'er Albion's rescued shore. 



T. S. Salmon, 



Brasenose College. 



The following, in English and Latin, are by the writer's departed 

 friend; the Rev. Francis KUvert, of Bath : — 



See rocks Cyclopean, as by giant's hands 

 In a rude temple's form disposed. Amid 



