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And witness to posterity,

And those who hither throng.

A clever man and able,

In actions and in mind,
Is the first Vicar of All Saints',
As here and there you'll find!-

Then, too, whilst I am speaking,
I'll give a word of praise,

To those whose wealth and talent
Contributed to raise,

Supplies as they were needed

To carry things along,

Who asked not, nor received,
The tribute of a song.
Of names I best remember,

Whom worthily we prize,

Are Hanbury and Robson,

Duke, Rivington, and Wyse; Then Boudier, Grant, and Eddins,

With Oughton, Myers, Rose,

Likewise Smith and Colson,

With which the list I close.

Now, ere we leave the building,

I'll fancy once again,

The festivals I've witnessed

Within this hallowed fane.

These, Easter-tides and Christmas, The Octave of All Saints, Thanksgivings for the harvests, And others memory paints.—— How beautiful the fabric

Upon such days as these, With flowers in every window,

To charm the eye and please !——

When font and gates and altar
Are lovely to behold,

And all the church is radiant
With beauty manifold!—
Such scenes by force of merit
And their artistic worth,
Raise high the soul and spirit,
Above the dross of earth!-
And when the organ pealeth
In glorious notes around,
And every arch vibrateth

With harmony of sound,—
When holy songs are swelling

The congregation's praise,

Their tribute to Jehovah,

To whom their hearts they raise, Then sweet indeed and pleasant

It is to worship here,

And join in the devotions

With relatives most dear!-
Full often with my parents,

And with my sister, too,
I've tasted of this sweetness,
As I to manhood grew!

And now that we are parted,
And scattered here and there,
We still are constant-hearted
Toward this house of prayer.

Well, now I think I've shown you
The salient points around;
Therefore we'll leave the others

Which here and there are found,

Till you attend the service,

As you are sure to do!—

Or come again at leisure,

To have another view.—

Now as we quit together

This beauteous house of God;

Whose courts re-echo praises,—
Where reverent feet have trod,—

Our visit shall remind us,-
How pleasant is the lot,

Of those we leave behind us!—

Who worship in this spot.

Composed at Brawby Lodge, May 18 to June 6, 1896.

BEAUTIFUL DEVON.

LOVELY Devon !

Who hath seen the beauty

Of thy sea-girt shore,
White with pebbly beaches,

And billows breaking o'er !-
Where old red sandstone cliffs
Look out upon the sea,
Clad to their very summits,

And that luxuriantly;

With ivy and with hazels,

With brambles, grass and fern,

Exhibiting fresh grandeur

Whichever way you turn ?

Beautiful Devon !

Who hath seen thy moorlands
Beneath the morning sun;

Or sauntered by thy streamlets,
Just when the day was done. ?—
Who hath scaled thy granite tors,
Or rambled mid thy coombes,
Where honeysuckles, traveller's-joy,
And many a floweret blooms.—
Or hath walked thy country lanes,
Beneath their arch of trees,—

Those quaint old-fashioned roadways That charm the eye and please !— Where primroses and violets

With ferns and ivy grow,

And rabbits mid the high banks
Oft scamper to and fro ?—

Fair Devon !

Who hath seen these treasures,
Tasted of their bliss,
Viewed thee in the glory
Of thy loveliness ?—

But has felt within him

Of thy peaceful charm, And hath said with fervour,

Fervour true and warm,

Sweet Devon! thou art lovely!—
Lovely as a dream !—

Of English counties worthy,

For beauty to be queen!

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