Danger and death a dread delight inspire; Hail, noblest structures imaged in the wave! Hail, blest retreats from war and shipwreck, hail! Long have ye heard the narratives of age, Far from the din of Folly's idle strife; Nor there awhile, with lifted eye, revered That modest stone which pious PEMBROKE reared; The silent sorrows of a parting hour; Thus, with the manly glow of honest pride, And as the sparks of social love expand, But wins the heart, and wakes the social sigh, But these pure joys the world can never know; When the hushed grove has sung its parting lay; Above, below, aërial murmurs swell, From hanging wood, brown heath, and bushy dell! A thousand nameless rills, that shun the light, Stealing soft music on the ear of night. So oft the finer movements of the soul, That shun the sphere of Pleasure's gay controul, A blithe and blooming Forester explored High on exulting wing the heath-cock rose, |