CLIFTON GROVE. 27 



That tale, which made me find redoubled sweets 

 In the drear silence of these dark retreats ; 

 And even now, with melancholy power, 

 Adds a new pleasure to the lonely hour. 

 'Mid all the charms by magic Nature given 

 To this wild spot, this sublunary heaven, 

 With di)uble joy enthusiast fancy leans 

 On the attendant legend of the scenes. 

 This sheds a fairy lustre on tlie floods. 

 And breathes a mellower gloom upon the woods ; 

 This, as the distant cataract swells around. 

 Gives a romantic cadence to the sound : 

 This, and the deepening glen, the alley green, 

 The silver stream, with sedgy tufts between. 

 The massy rock, the wood-encompass'd leas. 

 The broom- clad islands, and the nodding trees, 

 The lengthening vista, and the present gloom. 

 The verdant pathway breathing waste perfume ; 

 These are thy charms, the joys which these ini]);irt 

 Bind thee, blest Clifton ! close around my heart. 



Dear native Grove ! where'er my devious track. 



To thee will memory lead the wanderer back. 



Whether in Arno's polished vales I stray, 



Or where " Oswego's swamps'' obstruct the day ; 



Or wander lone, where, wildering and wide, 



Tlie tumbling torrent laves St Gothard's side; 



Or by Old Tejo's classic margent muse, 



Or stand entranced with Pyrenean views ; 



Still, still to thee, v.-here'er my footsteps roam. 



My heart shall point, and lead the wanderer home. 



When splendour offers, and wdien Fame incites, 



I'll pause, and think of all thy dear delights. 



Reject the boon, and, wearied with tlie change. 



Renounce the wish which first induced to range ; 



Turn to these scenes, these well-known scenes, once more, 



Trace once again Old Trent's romantic shore, 



And, tired with worlds, and all their busy wnys, 



Here waste the little remnant of my days. 



But, if the Fates should this last wish deny. 



