VERSES WRITTEN AFTER SEEING WINDSOR CASTLE.
BY THOMAS WARTON THE ELDER.
From beaut'ous Windsor's high and storied halls,
Where Edward's chiefs start from the glowing walls,
To my low cot, from ivory beds of state,
Pleas'd I return, unenvious of the great.
So the bee ranges o'er the vary'd scenes
Of corn, of heaths, of fallows, and of greens;
Pervade the thicket, soars above the hill,
Or murmurs to the meadow's murmuring rill;
Now haunts old hollow'd oaks, deserted cells,
Now seeks the low vale-lily's silver bells;
Sips the warm fragrance of the green-house bowers,
And tastes the myrtle and the citron flowers;
At length returning to the wonted comb,
Prefers to all his little straw-built home.