U nder great Skiddaw—there, in Epic lays,
T hou dream’dst a poet’s dreams of olden days,
H ow Madoc wandered o’er the Atlantic wave,
E astern Kehama, Roderic the brave,
Y ears cannot from our fondest memory lave.
MACAULAY.
M asterly critic! in whose brilliant style
A nd rich historic coloring breathes again—
C lothed in most picturesque costume the while—
A ll the dim past, with all its bustling train.