Farewell to Elloughton.
This fair and sunny afternoon,
Upon the green hill’s side
Reclined, beneath a shady tree,
To view the prospect wide,
In varied beauty spread beneath
Of woodland, corn-field, dell—
I would invoke the Muse to give
A poet’s warm farewell!
Farewell to all the rural walks
I’ve ta’en with calm delight;
Farewell to landscapes richly seen
In evening’s golden light;
Farewell—the deep dark woodland shade,
The meadow’s flowery plain;
But yet a farewell full of hope,
The hope to meet again.
When man forsakes the crowded town,
The loud and bustling mart,
Amid the calm of rural scenes
To renovate his heart,
So peaceful, pure, and sweet around
The lovely prospect lies,
He feels as if his footsteps trod
Again in paradise.
In childhood how we love to play
Mid fields and woods and flowers,
And ’neath the sunshine wile away
Our infancy’s glad hours;
And when such scenes in after years
Can purest joy impart,
It haply proves we yet retain
Like innocence of heart!
How fair is Nature’s every scene,
Viewed as a work Divine,
When pious thought, and filial love,
Make each green nook a shrine;
The sunlight spreading o’er the land,
Seems smiles from Heaven above,
The gentle breeze a “still small voice”
That whispers of His Love.
And where, to waken pure delight,
Or elevate the thought,
Can fairer, brighter charms be found,
Or more with beauty fraught,
Than here, where high and breezy hills
O’er look Old Humber’s wave,
And view the rich, green, wooded shores
That His broad waters lave?
Far o’er the ample plain beneath,
Lanes, corn-fields, woodlands lie,
Till lost in distant purple hues
They mingle with the sky.
The lordly seat, the village church,
The hamlet, cot and farm,
’Mid shady trees, or open grounds,
With varied beauty charm.
O’er Humber’s wide-spread flowing stream,
White, gliding sails are seen,
Illumined by the sun’s bright rays,
Or ’neath some cloudy screen;
Whilst all His further shores repeat
The brighter, nearer view—
More faintly touched, more dimly seen—
Arrayed in softest blue.
Here Welton’s richly wooded dale,
Or Elloughton’s dark dell,
Or Brantingham’s romantic vale,
Charm as by magic spell!
The song-bird’s note, the bee’s rich hum,
The insect’s merry flight,
The wild-flowers and the fragrant pines
Must all enhance delight!
He who would choose the deep lone wood,
Or forest’s tangled shade,
The mingled prospect far and wide
O’er distant lands displayed;
The rural lane, the rustic walk,
The cultivated plain,
The woodbine or the wild-rose path—
His every wish may gain.
In years long gone, I’ve wandered o’er
Each nook of this sweet spot,
To fill the mind with pictures fair
That memory ne’er forgot;
And now when all has been reviewed,
It glows more fresh and bright
And beauteous than in those first hours
Of innocent delight.
Farewell, then, rural Elloughton,
And each rich scene around!
Full oft on Fancy’s pictured page
Will all be clearly found;
And oft these hours of pleasure pure
O’er thought will fondly reign;—
Farewell, until thy much-loved walks
My footsteps trace again!