-alas for them, earthly images present no likeness? And they move, those cloudland mists, with slow, solemn majestic motion, like the procession of ancient Kings beheld in a dream. Never, O never, so long as the blood pulsates within my heart, or the spirit of life thrills along these bounding nerves-never shall I forget the entrancement, the glory, the ecstacy, with which, beneath rays of the setting sun, I beheld those magnificent cliffs, with their mantles of illuminated mists and clouds, floating in colours of rich, luminious, and many-coloured light along their sides-a Panorama of Rainbows!
Martin, Stansfield, why were you not near, to perpetuate that scene for ever with your magic pencils? It was truly
"Glory beyond all glory ever seen
By waking soul, or by the dreaming eye."
For seconds, for minutes, for one full hour, my soul, yea my whole physical being, were wholly engulphed in a rapturous trance of adoration, and thanksgiving and praise.
-I have been dead, I cried,
And now I live,—0, WHEREFORE, DO I LIVE ?"
The following lines are written to commemorate a Fete Champetre furnished to his friends by Thomas Hutchinson, Esq. of Brotton Hall, and his amiable lady, on Monday, September 18th, 1843.
Hail Muse of Cleveland, look propitious down,
Whilst I a Cleveland Bard, resume my Lyre,
Grant me one leaf from Spencer's laurel crown
One spark of Wordsworth's Nature-breathing fire,
Whilst I, in fitting measures strive to sing
Scenes that uplift me on an angels wing.
Midst hazel boughs and clusters Autumn-brown'd
Through the deep dell, we track our pleasant way,
With lofty oak, and ash, the hills are crown'd,
And the sweet mountain brooks in chorus play-
Now sad and silent, now in sunshine bright,
Then prattling, like young children their delight.
Blue were the heavens, and balmy all the air,
And from the tremulous leaves, sweet music fell,
From the rich woodbine, and all wild-flowers there,
Fragrance, like angel-breathings, fill'd the dell,
Whilst joy and happiness of Eden part,
Fill'd with delightful dreams each happy heart.
No sound disturb'd that silent, still domain,
Save where the babbling waters made their moan;
Even the forest-birds had ceased their strain
And the loud mavis nestled all alone-
But sounds even dearer charmed the listless air,
Sweet human rapture, pleasure free from care.
Return we now the festive cheer is spread,
Rich ample fare adorns the snowy board,
Wide is the roof-the heavens above our head-
Ample the room, by Nature's painting stor'd,-
Our choristers the winds that softly pass,
And at our feet, the first of carpets, grass.
O, lovely is the prospect, rich and rare,
Wild and subdued,-black heath all purple-topped-
Far distant heights that tower aloft in air,
And lovely fields of Autumn newly-cropp'd:
Hedgerows, and groves, and heaps of golden corn,
Dingles, and glens, and dells, the scene adorn.
And, now, the silvery mist unveiling slow,
Between yon hills with woods embowering clad,
Waves the monarchic Ocean to and fro,
And champs the shore, and froths as he were mad,—
Whilst o'er his beauteous bosom sailing on,
White lovely ships glance brightly in the sun.
Most lovely, most majestic! now a child
Laughing amid its ringlets, full of glee,
Now like a wounded tiger fierce and wild,
Fierce as ten thousand wolves, uncurbed and free
Till even old Neptune shudders in his rock,
And the huge bulwarks tremble with the shock-
Bulwarks that since the earth's foundations stood,
Have proudly rear'd aloft their giant head-
Huntcliffe and Rawcliffe, monarchs of the flood,
Erect, sublime, with storms and tempests wed-
Or, sweetly gleaming in the evening sun,
Home of the Sea-birds when their task is done.
Now draw the cork, and let the wine go round,
Vintage of blue Moselle, and purple Spain,
This spot shall Pleasure turn to holy ground,
In every breast shall joy securely reign!-
"Britannia's lovely Queen" loud spake our host,
And heart, and hand, and voice respond the toast.
Words too of flame were heard, tones eloquent,
Free in that domeless Amphitheatre,
We fear'd not frowns, nor sneer of malcontent,
In liberty unbounded as the air :
No city walls confine, no courtiers roam,
The heavens our temple, and the hills our home.
And beauty with bright orbs encircled near,
Sweet O- -y raven-tress'd, and seraph-eyed,
Gay, sprightly B-y, with a brow so clear,
Fair R―t-n of loveliness the pride,-
And others, dazzling with celestial light,
To match whose charms, must match the stars of night.
Feasting, and song, and joyous repartee,
Like foam-bells in the sun, or brisk champagne,
Sparkled incessant with tumultuous glee,
In smile-lit eyes, and bosoms free from pain-
Whilst wondering children in the distant dell,
Gazed as at some enchanted spectacle.
But shall no record linger of this day?
No festive tribute herald future time?
Sponsors we boast, and matrons can essay,
This Christening in the style of true sublime-
The matchless B- -y
"Be for ever famed,
And thus enforced,MOUNT PLEASANT hence be named."
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