If ever man merited fame, 285 If ever man's failings went free, Forgot at the sound of his name, Our MORRIS of PERSFIELD was he*. CLEFT from the summit, who shall say When WIND-CLIFF'S other half gave way? Or when the sea-waves roaring strong, First drove the rock-bound tide along? To studious leisure be resign'd, The task that leads the wilder'd mind * The author is equally indebted to Mr. Coxe's County History for this anecdote, as for the greater part of the notes subjoined throughout the Journal. From time's first birth throughout the range 295 Of Nature's everlasting change. Soon from his all-commanding brow, Lay PERSFIELD's rocks and woods below. The WYE's fantastic mountain race? Before us, sweeping far and wide, Lay out-stretch'd SEVERN'S Ocean tide, Broke the faint lines of heights unknown; And still, though clouds would interpose, In dark succession: STINCHCOMB's brow, With BERKLEY CASTLE Crouch'd below; From THORNBURY, on the Glo'ster strand; With black-brow'd woods, and yellow fields, 311 Detain'd the eye, that glanc'd again O'er KINGROAD anchorage to the main. As westward roll'd the setting day, Fled like a golden dream away. Then CHEPSTOW's ruin'd fortress caught The mind's collected store of thought, And seem'd, with mild but jealous frown, 'Twas well; for he has much to boast, Much still that tells of glories lost, 327 Though rolling years have form'd the sod, E'en on the walls where pac'd the brave, High o'er his crumbling turrets wave The rampant seedlings.-Not a breath Past through their leaves; when, still as death, We stopp'd to watch the clouds-for night Grew splendid with encreasing light, Till, as time loudly told the hour, Gleam'd the broad front of MARTEN'S TOWER *, * Henry Marten, whose signature appears upon the death |