Drive as she drives;-how fast they wheel away, But they are silent ;-still they roll along Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds, Still deepens its unfathomable depth. At length the Vision closes; and the mind, IV. YEW-TREES. THERE is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, To be destroyed. But worthier still of note Huge trunks!--and each particular trunk a growth Of intertwisted fibres serpentine Of boughs, as if for festal purpose, decked As in a natural temple scattered o'er To lie, and listen to the mountain flood Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves. V. VIEW FROM THE TOP OF BLACK COMB. THIS Height a ministering Angel might select: That British ground commands :-low dusky tracts, And, in a line of eye-sight linked with these, The hoary Peaks of Scotland that give birth To Tiviot's Stream, to Annan, Tweed, and Clyde ;- Far into silent regions blue and pale ;— VOL. I. X That, as we left the Plain, before our sight A dwindled object, and submits to lie Do we behold the frame of Erin's Coast? Like the bright confines of another world Display august of man's inheritance, Of Britain's calm felicity and power, |