288 GILBERT WHITE OF SELBORNE 



" And here, hard by, the nightingale 

 For the first time in springtide sang, 

 While Gilbert listened ; here the pale 

 First blackthorn flowered, while down the gale 

 The cuckoo's mockeries rang ! 



" And there rathe swallows would appear. 

 To whirl on high their last gavotte ; 



And there the last of the great deer 



Fell on a winter midnight clear, 

 'Neath a * night-hunter's ' shot. 



** We know it all ! Familiar, too, 



Seems this quaint hamlet 'neath the steeps — 

 House, 'Pleystor,' church, and churchyard yew. 

 And the plain headstone, hid from view. 



Where their historian sleeps. 



*' 'Twas just a century gone by 



They laid the simple cleric here : 

 Th' old world was in her agony. 

 And ' Nature ! Reason ! ' was the cry 

 In that historic year. 



" But ! another nature 'twas 



That ruled him with her magic touch, 

 A mistress of delightful laws. 

 Whom still we learn to love because 



We love her servant much ! " — Victor Plarr. 



FINIS. 



