LETTER IV.
Rippon, August 5th.
Since I wrote to you last my dear mother I've been
To see all the lions which are to be seen
Around this gay place—where 'tis much in the fashion,
Small parties to form for this sweet recreation,
So we lately set out on a very fine day,
Our respects to the beauties of Knaresbro' to pay, 342
But a painter alone to your eye can disclose,
A view of the scene as before us it rose,
Presenting a coup d'oeil so simple and sweet,
Yet so grand, so sublime, and in fact so complete,
That I fancied the river as winding around,
Was enclosing the spot as if consecrate ground
And this castle crown'd scene will ne'er rise to my mind,
Without claiming a sigh that I've left it behind,
Thro' a beautiful grove we were led to be shewn,
The fam'd Dropping-Well which turns all things to stone,
Yet in silver ton'd tinkling the Naiad departs,
Like ladies whose tears only harden their hearts.
From thence to the cell[4] of a saint we ascended,
By sage antiquarians most highly commended,
Then climb'd to the Fort where an honest old pair,
Would give you more pleasure than any thing there
Tho' their mutual labours have spread o'er the soil,
Astonishing proofs of their patience and toil.
We trac'd the bold ruins still proudly sublime,
Which yielding to man have found mercy from time,
And adorn the sweet scenes they were rais'd to protect,
With picturesque beauty more fine from defect;
Delighted to find wheresoever we roved
"His[5] Honour of Scriven" revered and beloved
As e'er his forefathers have been in those ages,
When the smile of the lord was more priz'd than his wages,
When the sire of the land in the heart of each vassal
Found a bulwark more strong than the walls of his castle——
From Knaresbro' to Plumpton our party proceeded
A spot that no trav'ller should pass by unheeded, 374
'Tis a miniature landscape redeem'd from the waste
As a species of show-box by nature and taste,
Of small rocks and small groves and a pretty small lake,
Where small parties aquatic excursions may take,
And fancy they view in perspective the shores,
Where Loch Lomond smiles or Geneva deplores.—
So well my first jaunt had agreed with my mood,
That I went to see Harewood the first day I cou'd, 380
But here my description must certainly fail as,
I have not one talent for painting a palace,
But to draw the proud mansion and bring it to view
Will surely dear mother be needless to you,
Since at Chatsworth we Derbyshire folks have all been,
You will judge I am certain of all that I mean,
When I tell you groves, gardens, fine water, and hall,
Seem the gift of good Genii to spangle this ball.
To Studley far-fam'd for its beauty we went 389
And gaz'd on those beauties with placid content,
Tho' some of the amateurs fancied that art,
In planning these grounds had o'er acted her part,
But who hallow'd Fountains thy threshold shall pass
And remember the ponds with their trimmings of grass?
No! rapt in the scene which presents contemplation,
Such objects of interest and deep veneration,
We gaze on the arch whence the ivy descending,
Usurps the rich shrine where the lamp was once pending,
Where the wild currant blooms and the mountain ash bows,
There knelt the great abbot and offer'd his vows, 400
And where the green beech his proud branches displays
Sweet incense ascended with anthems of praise.
Oh visions of old as around me ye roll!
Exalting, delighting, ennobling the soul,
Impress on my mem'ry if not on my rhyme
The pleasure I took in these scenes at the time,
For sure 'twas a pity that feelings so fine
Should evap'rate the moment we set off to dine,
Reducing at once the fine flights of the brain,
To the vulgar subjection of hunger, and pain,
Unlike to those heroes we read of in books,
Who living on sentiment scorn meat and cooks,
Fight, conquer, make love to a princess, and win her,
Without ever asking the aid of a dinner,
And heroines we see thro' five volumes can go,
Immers'd in all sorts of distraction and woe,
Without wetting their lips, thus bestowing the lie,
On the proverb which says that "true sorrow is dry."
But be that their affair 'twas no part of our plan,
For our beaux grew voracious, our ladies look'd wan
So we set off for Rippon with stomachs so hearty,
'Twas well Mrs. Robinson knew of the party,
She gave us a treat which so gladden'd our sight,
That we quickly determin'd to stay here all night
So I thought it was best just to empty my head,
Of its "perilous stuff" ere I ventur'd to bed,
Lest the walk I have taken with gazing and peeping
Should injure my nerves and prevent me from sleeping,
And conceiving a nap is a sound acquisition,
Have sought it (like many) by long composition.
&c. &c. &c.