Slopes gently to the main. Ere Try on sunk
To infamy unfathom'd, through yon groves
Once glisten'd Norwalk's white ascending spires,
And soon, if Heaven permit, shall shine again.
Here, sky-encircled, Stratford's churches beam;
And Stratfield's turrets greet the roving eye.
In clear, full view, with every varied charm
That forms the finish'd landscape, blending soft
In matchless union, Fairfield and Green's Farms
Give luster to the day. Here, crown'd with pines