248 



CHAPTER X. 



From sorrow here 



I'm led by Death away why should I start and fear ? 

 If I have loved the forest and the field, 

 Can I not love them deeper, hetter there ? 

 If all that Power hath made, to me doth yield 

 Something of good and beauty something fair 

 Freed from the grossness of mortality, 

 May I not love them all, and better all enjoy ? 



KOBEET NlCOLL. 



So much for the Prospectus, Dedication, and Preface of 

 this great work, of Pocock's defeated hopes ! He had 

 too early rejoiced over the circumstance that the artists 

 lived at Dartford who had furnished the drawings and 

 plates, that there also the work had been written and 

 the type composedly himself; the pages to be printed, 

 imposed, and worked off by his son G. A. Pocock, and 

 also bound. A combination, he says, scarcely to be 

 paralleled ; but in point of fact cruel fate drew a hard 

 and fast line between the preparation of the drawings 

 and of the MS. text, and all that was to follow of the 

 fair performance. 



It was not until 1844 (to forecast the future) that a 

 history and antiquities of Dartford was published, and 

 then by Mr. John Dunkin, to whom the above graceful 



