His name I wot not, but his wide domain
Was rich with stream and forest, mead and plain;
To crown the whole, one manor he possess’d
In choice delight so passing all the rest,
No castle, burgh, or city might compare
With the quaint beauties of that mansion rare.
The sooth to say, I fear my words may seem
Like some strange fabling, or fantastic dream,
If, unadvis’d, the portraiture I trace,
And each brave pleasure of that peerless place.