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LXII.

A mighty window, hollow in the centre,
Shorn of its glass of thousand colourings,
Through which the deepen'd glories once could enter,
Streaming from off the sun like seraph's wings,
Now yawns all desolate: now loud, now fainter,
The gale sweeps through its fretwork, and oft sings
The owl his anthem, where the silenced quire
Lie with their hallelujahs quench'd like fire.

LXIII.

But in the noontide of the moon, and when
The wind is winged from one point of heaven,
There moans a strange unearthly sound, which then
Is musical--a dying accent driven

Through the huge arch, which soars and sinks again.
Some deem it but the distant echo given

Back to the night wind by the waterfall,
And harmonised by the old choral wall:

LXIV.

Others, that some original shape, or form

Shaped by decay perchance, hath given the power (Though less than that of Memnon's statue, (1) warm In Egypt's rays, to harp at a fix'd hour)

(1) [The history of this wonderful statue seems to be simply this:Herodotus, when he went into Egypt, was shown the fragments of a colossus, thrown down some years before by Cambyses. This he calls Memnon; but says not a syllable respecting its emitting a vocal sound; a prodigy which appears to have been an after-thought of the priests of Thebes. The upper part of this statue has been covered by the sand for many ages; it is that which yet remains on its pedestal which performs the wonders mentioned by so many travellers. In a word, the whole appears to have been a trick, not ill adapted to such a place as Egypt, VOL. XVII. H

To this grey ruin, with a voice to charm

Sad, but serene, it sweeps o'er tree or tower; The cause I know not, nor can solve; but such The fact:-I've heard it,-once perhaps too much. (1)

LXV.

Amidst the court a Gothic fountain play'd, (2) Symmetrical, but deck'd with carvings quaintStrange faces, like to men in masquerade,

And here perhaps a monster, there a saint: The spring gush'd through grim mouths of granite And sparkled into basins, where it spent

[made,

Its little torrent in a thousand bubbles,
Like man's vain glory, and his vainer troubles.

LXVI.

The mansion's self was vast and venerable,
With more of the monastic than has been
Elsewhere preserved: the cloisters still were stable,
The cells, too, and refectory, I ween:

where men went, and still go, with a face of foolish wonderment, predisposed to swallow the grossest absurdities. The sound (for some sound there was), I incline to think, with De Pauw, proceeded from an excavation near the plinth, the sides of which might be struck, at a preconcerted moment, with a bar of sonorous metal. Even Savary, who saw nothing but prodigies in Egypt, treats this foolish affair as an artifice of the priests. So much for the harp of Memnon. — GIFFORD. See also Sir David Brewster's Natural Magic, p. 234.]

1

(1) ["Next to the apartment called King Edward the Third's room, on account of that monarch having slept there, is the sounding gallery, — so called from a very remarkable echo which it possesses."— Art. Newstead, in Beauties of England, vol. xii.]

(2) ["From the windows of the gallery over the cloisters, we see the c.oister court, with a basin in the centre, used as a stew for fish," &c. —

An exquisite small chapel had been able,

Still unimpair'd, to decorate the scene; (1) The rest had been reform'd, replaced, or sunk, And spoke more of the baron than the monk.

LXVII.

Huge halls, long galleries, spacious chambers, join'd
By no quite lawful marriage of the arts,
Might shock a connoisseur; but when combined,
Form'd a whole which, irregular in parts,

Yet left a grand impression on the mind,

At least of those whose eyes are in their hearts We gaze upon a giant for his stature,

Nor judge at first if all be true to nature.

LXVIII.

Steel barons, molten the next generation
To silken rows of gay and garter'd earls,
Glanced from the walls in goodly preservation:
And Lady Marys blooming into girls,
With fair long locks, had also kept their station:
And countesses mature in robes and pearls:
Also some beauties of Sir Peter Lely,

Whose drapery hints we may admire them freely.

(1) ["The cloisters exactly resemble those of Westminster Abbey, only on a smaller scale; but possessing, if possible, a more venerable appearance. These were the cloisters of the ancient abbey, and many of its ancient tenants now lie in silent repose under the flagged pavement. The ancient chapel, too, is still entire; its ceiling is a very handsome specimen of the Gothic style of springing arches."- Art. Newstead, in Beauties of England, vol. xii.]

LXIX.

Judges in very formidable ermine

Were there, with brows that did not much invite The accused to think their lordships would determine His cause by leaning much from might to right: Bishops, who had not left a single sermon:

Attorneys-general, awful to the sight,

As hinting more (unless our judgments warp us)
Of the "Star Chamber" than of " Habeas Corpus.”

LXX.

Generals, some all in armour, of the old

And iron time, ere lead had ta'en the lead; Others in wigs of Marlborough's martial fold, Huger than twelve of our degenerate breed: Lordlings, with staves of white or keys of gold: Nimrods, whose canvass scarce contain'd the steed; And here and there some stern high patriot stood, Who could not get the place for which he sued.

LXXI.

But ever and anon, to soothe your vision,
Fatigued with these hereditary glories,
There rose a Carlo Dolce or a Titian,

Or wilder group of savage Salvatore's: (1)
Here danced Albano's boys, and here the sea shone
In Vernet's ocean lights; and there the stories

Of martyrs awed, as Spagnoletto tainted

His brush with all the blood of all the sainted.

(1) Salvator Rosa

["Whate'er Lorraine light touch'd with softening hue,
Or savage Rosa dash'd, or learned Poussin drew."

THOMSON'S Castle of Indolence.]

LXXII.

Here sweetly spread a landscape of Lorraine;
There Rembrandt made his darkness equal light,
Or gloomy Caravaggio's gloomier stain

Bronzed o'er some lean and stoic anchorite :-
But, lo! a Teniers woos, and not in vain,
Your eyes to revel in a livelier sight:

-

His bell-mouth'd goblet makes me feel quite Danish (1) Or Dutch with thirst— What, ho! a flask of Rhenish.

LXXIII.

O reader! if that thou canst read, and know,

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'Tis not enough to spell, or even to read, To constitute a reader; there must go

Virtues of which both you and I have need. Firstly, begin with the beginning-(though

That clause is hard); and secondly, proceed; Thirdly, commence not with the end-or, sinning In this sort, end at least with the beginning.

LXXIV.

But, reader, thou hast patient been of late,
While I, without remorse of rhyme, or fear,
Have built and laid out ground at such a rate,
Dan Phoebus takes me for an auctioneer.
That poets were so from their earliest date,
By Homer's "Catalogue of ships" is clear;
But a mere modern must be moderate-

I spare you then the furniture and plate.

(1) If I err not, "your Dane," is one of Iago's catalogue of nations

66 exquisite in their drinking."

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