DICK ROOK. 179 



one of these moments, that I was tempted to re- 

 peat to him the following lines descriptive of the 

 downs we saw before us, in order to see what 

 effect they would produce on him. It was perhaps 

 the first time in his life that Dick had heard any 

 poetry, with the exception of the . country ditties 

 trolled out in a servants 5 hall, or the kitchen of an 

 ale-house. I felt sure however, that a man who 

 had so true a feeling for the beauties of nature, 

 would not be insensible to a description of her 

 charms, or of the haunts he delighted in. 



Hail, happy scenes of past delight ! 

 Thrice welcome to the memory's sight ! 

 For though thy landscapes, nature blest, 

 In every vivid tint are drest ; 

 Though fertile vales, and verdant down 

 And mantling beech thy prospects crown 

 Though Arun fam'd for classic strains 

 Roll its soft stream along thy plains, 



And Neptune bound thy shore; 

 Yet shall the fond remember'd hour. 

 Embody forms with brighter pow'r, 



To group thy landscapes o'er. 



How oft the spirit-breathing horn 

 Has cheer'd on yonder hill the morn 

 Oft has my gun alarm'd that wood 

 Oft have I bath'd in yon clear flood 

 On that smooth hillock's velvet green 

 In village pomp the dance I've seen 

 But ah ! midst scenes so gay, so dear, 

 Why softly steals th' unbidden tear 

 At sight of yonder grove ? 



