The friend to merit and the poor man’s friend, 80
Or read with weeping eyes the finished sum
Of all his days—blest days, and yet to come!
Belvoir should then the closing stanzas fill, }
This sacred dome that crowns the lordly Hill, }
Rever’d through rolling times and venerable still: }
She that looks down o’er the rich Vale and sees
Trees at her feet and hills adorned with Trees;
She that contains within her stately towers
The works of ages past and the delight of ours!—