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ELEGANT EXTRACTS.

PART III.

Descriptive.

NEEDWOOD FOREST.

PART I.

NEEDWOOD! if e'er my early voice
Hath taught thy echoes to rejoice;
If e'er my hounds in opening cry
Have fill'd thy banks with ecstasy;
If e'er array'd in cheerful green

Our train hath deck'd thy wintry scene;
Ere yet thy wood-wild walks I leave,
My tributary verse receive:

With thy own wreath my brows adorn,

And to thy praises tune my horn!

What green robed nymph, all loose her hair,

With buskin❜d leg and bosom bare,

Steps lightly down the turfy glades,

And beckons toward yon opening shades?—
No harlot form, dissembling guile

With wanton air and painted smile,

VOL. II.

B

Lures to enchanted halls or bowers,
Where festive Vice consumes his hours.
Her mild and modest looks dispense
The simple charm of innocence;
And a sweet wildness in her eye
Sparkles with young sincerity.-

Lead on, fair guide, ere wakes the dawn,
With thee I'll climb the steepy lawn,
With thee the leafy labyrinths trace,
Where dwells the Genius of the place.-
His large limbs press a primrose bed,
A moss-grown root sustains his head,
And, listening to a Druid's rhymes,
He bends his eye on distant times:
While troops of silvan vassals meet
To cast their garlands at his feet,
And pipe and frisk in rings about,
Or parley with the hunter's shout.
And now a fragrant shower he throws
Of blossoms from his curled brows,
And rising waves his oaken wand,
And bids yon magic scenes expand!

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First blush the hills with orient light, And pierce the sable veil of night, Green bends the waving shade above, And glistering dewdrops gem the grove: Next shine the shelving lawns around, Bright threads of silver net the ground; And down, the entangled brakes among, The white rill sparkling winds along; Then, as the pausing zephyrs breathe, The billowy mist recedes beneath; Slow as it rolls away unfold

The vale's fresh glories green and gold;

Dove* laughs, and shakes his tresses bright,
And trails afar a line of light.

Now glows the illumined landscape round!
Ye vulgar, hence!-'tis sacred ground!
Hence to the flimsy walks of art,
That lull, but not transport, the heart.
Nature, O Muse, here sits alone,
And marks these regions for thy own;
Here her variety of joys

Nor season bounds nor change destroys:
Be mine the pride, though weak my strains,
That first I woo'd thee to these plains;
Where Spring, in all her beauty dress'd,
But promises a brighter guest:

Where Summer yields her greens and flowers
To Autumn's variegated bowers:
Smiles Winter, as their honours fall,
And bids his hollies shame them allt.
Ye sage professors of design,
Whom system's stubborn rules confine,
Can science here one blemish show?
Or one deficient grace bestow?
Emes, who yon desert wild explored,
And to its name the scene restored;
Whose art is Nature's law maintain'd,
Whose order negligence restrain'd,

The river Dove.

+ The numerous groves and clumps of hollies give uncommon beauty to the winter scenes of Needwood Forest.

t Mr. Emes, who ornamented Beaudesart, the seat of Lord Paget, which is seen from the Forest, and who has obtained great reputation for his taste in ornamental gardening, has frequently assured the author that he took his best hints from the scenes of Needwood.

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