Vane, quid affectas faciem mihi ponere, pictor? Et, si vis similem pingere, pinge sonum.-AUSONIUS. ONCE more, Enchantress of the soul, Say, in what distant star to dwell? Far happier thou! 'twas thine to soar, Thy triumphs who shall dare explore? *Mrs. Sheridan's. "SAY, what remains when Hope is fled?" At Embsay rung the matin-bell, When near the cabin in the wood, 'Twas but a step! the gulf he passed; As through the mist he winged his way, That narrow place of noise and strife There now the matin-bell is rung; The "Miserere!" duly sung ; * In the twelfth century William Fitz-Duncan laid waste the valleys of Craven with fire and sword; and was afterwards established there by his uncle, David King of Scotland. He was the last of the race; his son, commonly called the Boy of Egremond, dying before him in the manner here related; when a Priory was removed from Embsay to Bolton, that it might be as possible to the place where the accident happened. That place is still known by the name of the Strid; and the mother's near as answer, as given in the first stanza, is to this day often repeated in Wharfedale.-See WHITAKER'S Hist. of Craven. BB Here on the young its fury spent, When red with blood the river rolled. |