These time-carv’d crags, which intervenes
Those various blooming evergreens—
Dight here and there to garb the spot—
That arch full many a cooling grot,
Succeeding waterfalls, and purling brooks.
The Prince sped on towards the moorland height
(’Twixt ash, and fir, and oak, and pine,
Fair attributes of England’s “Rhine,”—
The silver-beech, and gorse, and fern,
Re-blooming every year in turn),