So he relinquished all his purposes. He travelled back to Egremont: and thence, 1800. II. ARTEGAL AND ELIDURE. (SEE THE CHRONICLE OF GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH AND MILTON'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. WHERE be the temples which, in Britain's isle, To fatal dissolution; and, I ween, No vestige then was left that such had ever been. Nathless, a British record (long concealed The marvellous current of forgotten things; A brood whom no civility could melt, "Who never tasted grace, and goodness ne'er had felt." By brave Corineus aided, he subdued, Whence golden harvests, cities, warlike towers, Whence all the fixed delights of house and home, Friendships that will not break, and love that cannot roam. O happy Britain! region all too fair Thus fares it still with all that takes its birth From human care, or grows upon the breast of earth. Hence, and how soon! that war of vengeance waged By Guendolen against her faithless lord; Till she, in jealous fury unassuaged, Had slain his paramour with ruthless sword: She flung her blameless child, Sabrina, vowing that the stream should bear That name through every age, her hatred to declare. So speaks the Chronicle, and tells of Lear And he, recovering sense, upon her breast There too we read of Spenser's fairy themes, Which yet he brandishes for future war, What wonder, then, if, in such ample field While I this flower transplant Into a garden stored with Poesy; Where flowers and herbs unite, and haply some weeds be, That, wanting not wild grace, are from all mischief free! A KING more worthy of respect and love He poured rewards and honors on the good; The oppressor he withstood; And while he served the Gods with reverence due, Fields smiled, and temples rose, and towns and cities grew. He died, whom Artegal succeeds, — his son; From crime to crime he mounted, till at length With a vexed people, and the tyrant chased; And on the vacant throne his worthier Brother placed. From realm to realm the humbled Exile went, Suppliant for aid his kingdom to regain; In many a court, and many a warrior's tent, And, tired with slights his pride no more could brook, He towards his native country cast a longing look. Fair blew the wished-for wind, the voyage sped; He landed; and, by many dangers scared, "Poorly provided, poorly followèd," To Calaterium's forest he repaired. How changed from him who, born to highest place, Had swayed the royal mace, Flattered and feared, despised yet deified, In Troynovant, his seat by silver Thames's side! From that wild region where the crownless King And from their secret loyalty requires Shelter and daily bread, the sum of his desires. While he the issue waits, at early morn Wandering by stealth abroad, he chanced to hear A startling outcry made by hound and horn, |