Such charm to fill the mind, such joy to swell the heart. }
These very pinnacles, and turrets small, 70
And windows dim, have beauty in them all.
How stately stand yon pines upon the hill;
How soft the murmurs of that living rill;
And o’er the park’s tall paling, scarcely higher,
Peeps the low Church and shows the modest spire.
Unnumber’d violets on those banks appear,
And all the first-born beauties of the year;
The grey-green blossoms of the willows bring