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That have no rivals among British bowers,
MONUMENT OF MRS. HOWARD,
In Wetheral Church, near Corby, on the Banks of the Eden.
STRETCHED on the dying Mother's lap lies dead
So patiently; and through one hand has spread
Feel with the Mother, think the severed Wife
And own that Art, triumphant over strife
And pain, hath powers to Eternity endeared.
SUGGESTED BY THE FOREGOING.
TRANQUILLITY! the sovereign aim wert thou
Peace to the Mourner. But when He who wore
THE floods are roused, and will not soon be
Down from the Pennine Alps* how fiercely sweeps
*The chain of Crossfell.
CROGLIN, the stately Eden's tributary!
He raves, or through some moody passage creeps Plotting new mischief, — out again he leaps
Into broad light, and sends, through regions airy, That voice which soothed the Nuns while on the
They knelt in prayer, or sang to blissful Mary. That union ceased: then, cleaving easy walks Through crags, and smoothing paths beset with danger,
Came studious Taste; and many a pensive stranger Dreams on the banks, and to the river talks. What change shall happen next to Nunnery Dell? Canal, and Viaduct, and Railway, tell!
STEAMBOATS, VIADUCTS, AND RAILWAYS.
MOTIONS and Means, on land and sea at war
Shall ye, by Poets even, be judged amiss!
your harsh features, Nature doth embrace Her lawful offspring in Man's art; and Time,
Pleased with your triumphs o'er his brother Space, Accepts from your bold hands the proffered crown Of hope, and smiles on you with cheer sublime.
THE MONUMENT COMMONLY CALLED LONG MEG AND HER DAUGHTERS, NEAR THE RIVER EDEN.
A WEIGHT of awe, not easy to be borne,
Fell suddenly upon my Spirit,
From the dread bosom of the unknown past,
Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature
The power of years, - preeminent, and placed Apart, to overlook the circle vast,
Speak, Giant-mother! tell it to the Morn
While she dispels the cumbrous shades of Night;
LOWTHER! in thy majestic Pile are seen
With the baronial castle's sterner mien;
And charters won and guarded by the sword
The strength of backward-looking thoughts is scorned.
Fall if ye must, ye Towers and Pinnacles,
TO THE EARL OF LONSDALE.
"Magistratus indicat virum."
LONSDALE! it were unworthy of a Guest,
Yet be unmoved with wishes to attest