Spread to the south; while by the brightening pen,
Rose the blithe sound of flocks and hounds and men,
At summer dawn, and gloaming; or the voice
Of children nutting in the hazelly den,
Sweet mingling with the winds' and waters' noise,
Attuned the softened heart with Nature to rejoice.
Upon the upland height a mouldering Tower,
By time and outrage marked with many a scar,
Told of past days of feudal pomp and power
When its proud chieftains ruled the dales afar.