In Jewry first this order found a name, 



When madding Croisades set the world in flame ; 



When western climes, urg'd on by Pope and priest, 



Pour'd forth their millions o'er the delug'd east: 



Luxurious Knights, ill suited to defy 



To mortal fight Turcestan chivalry. 



Nor be the Parsonage by the Muse forgot : 

 The partial bard admires his native spot ; 

 Smit with its beauties lov'd, as yet a child. 

 Unconscious why, its 'scapes grotesque and wild: 

 High on a mound th' exalted gardens stand ; 

 Beneath, deep valleys scoop'd by Nature's hand ! 



Now climb the steep, drop now your eye below. 

 Where round the verdurous village orchards blow ; 

 There, like a picture, lies my lowly seat, 

 A rural, shelter'd, unobserv'd retreat. 



Me, far above the rest, Selbornian scenes. 

 The pendent forest, and the mountain-greens. 

 Strike with delight : . . . there spreads the distant 



view 

 That gradual fades, 'til sunk in misty blue : 

 Here Nature hangs her slopy woods to sight. 

 Rills purl between, and dart a wavy light. 



When deep'ning shades obscure the face of day. 

 To yonder bench leaf-shelter'd let us stray. 

 To hear the drowzy dor come brushing by 

 With buzzing wing ; or the field-cricket cry ; 

 To see the feeding bat glance thro' the wood ; 

 Or catch the distant falling of the fiood : 



