ftratigate palace, 23 



thought the time as nothing, while she was with him." 

 This streamlet laves in its course the once hospitable 

 mansion of the Greys, and passes from thence into the 

 fertile meadows of Smithland. Beautiful too is the vale 

 of Newtown, lonely yet romantic, the favourite resort of 

 all who delight in the sylvan solitudes of nature where, 

 as legends tell, Jane used to walk with its hill and tower 

 in the distance, the nearest neighbours of Bradgate Palace, 

 now, like that, all roofless and deserted. What a contrast, 

 in its loneliness, to the busy tide of care, ever rolling on, in 

 the ancestral halls, the towns and villages, that vary the 

 mighty landscape, which extends before the elevated 

 solitude, with its aged ruin ! That ruin was dwelt in 

 once, not by the owl and bat, its sole tenants now, but 

 by living men and women, who held pleasant intercourse 

 with the inhabitants of Bradgate Palace ; with dwellers 

 too, in places, the sites of which, grass has long grown 

 over, or which the antiquary can hardly trace. Woods 

 and fields and streamlets are seen from the same high 

 hill; wide commons and quiet valleys, with dells and 

 dingles ; and above them extends the glorious dome of 

 heaven, where light summer-clouds are speeding, and 

 the bright sun looks down on the lovely scene beneath. 



Back to my old ruin for high hills, and far off scenes, 

 are not the objects of my search. Back to my old ruin, 

 which stands alone in its desolation, while all around is 

 verdurous and joyful. Full shining on it, are the warm 

 beams of a summer sun, and soft breezes shake the tufts 



