Book 1

BOOK I
CONTENTS OF BOOK I.

The Vale of Uley.––Forest of Dean.––Ross.––Wilton Castle.––Goodrich Castle.––Courtfield,
Welch Bicknor, Coldwell.––Gleaner's Song.––Coldwell Rocks.––Symmon's Yat.––Great Doward.––New
Wier.––Arthur's Hall.

⁽⁵⁾

––Martin's Well.––The Coracle.––Arrival at Monmouth.

'ROUSE from thy slumber, pleasure

⁽⁶⁾

calls, arise,

Quit thy half-rural bower, awhile

⁽⁷⁾

despise

The thraldom that consumes thee. We who dwell

Far from thy land of smoke,

⁽⁸⁾

advise thee well.

Here Nature's bounteous hand around shall fling,5

Scenes that thy Muse hath never dar'd

⁽⁹⁾

to sing.

When sickness weigh'd thee down, and strength declin'd;

⁽¹⁰⁾

When dread eternity absorb'd thy mind,

Flow'd the predicting verse, by gloom o'erspread,

That 'Cambrian mountains' thou should'st never tread,10

That 'time-worn cliff and classic stream to see,'

Was wealth's prerogative, despair for thee.

Come to the proof; with us the breeze inhale,

Renounce despair, and come to Severn's vale;

And where the COTSWOLD HILLS are stretch'd along,15

Seek our green dell, as yet unknown to song:

Start hence with us, and trace, with raptur'd

⁽¹¹⁾

eye,

The wild meanderings of the beauteous WYE;

Thy ten days leisure ten days joy shall prove,

And rock and stream breathe amity and love.'20

Such was the call; with instant ardour hail'd,

The siren Pleasure caroll'd and prevail'd;

Soon the deep dell appear'd, and the clear brow

Of ULEY BURY

⁽¹²⁾

smiled o'er all below,

Mansion, and flock,

⁽¹³⁾

and circling woods that hung25

Round the sweet pastures where the sky-lark sung.

O for the fancy, vigorous and sublime,

Chaste as the theme, to triumph over time!

Bright as the rising day, and firm as truth,

To speak new transports to the lowland youth30

That bosoms still might throb, and still adore,

When his who strives to charm them beats no more!

ONE August morn, with spirits high,

Sound health, bright hopes, and cloudless sky,

A cheerful group their farewell bade 35

To DURSLEY tower, to ULEY'S shade;

And where bold STINCHCOMB'S

⁽¹⁴⁾

greenwood side

Heaves in the van of highland pride,

Scour'd the broad vale of Severn; there

⁽¹⁵⁾

The foes of verse shall never dare 40

Genius to scorn, or bound its power,

⁽¹⁶⁾

There blood-stain'd BERKELEY'S turrets low'r,

A name that cannot pass away,

Till time forgets 'the Bard' of GRAY.

⁽¹⁷⁾

Quitting fair Glo'ster's northern road, 45

To gain the pass of FRAMELODE,

⁽¹⁸⁾

Before us DEAN'S black forest spread,

And MAY HILL, with his tufted head,

Beyond the ebbing tide appear'd;

And Cambria's distant mountains rear'd 50 50

Their dark blue summits far away;

And SEVERN, 'midst the burning day,

Curv'd

⁽¹⁹⁾

his bright line, and bore along

The mingled Avon, pride of song.

⁽²⁰⁾

The trembling steeds soon ferry'd o'er, 55

Neigh'd loud upon the forest shore;

Domains that once, at early morn,

Rang to the hunter's bugle horn,

When barons proud would bound away;

And even kings would hail the day, 60

And swell with pomp more glorious shows,

Than ant-hill

⁽²¹⁾

population knows.

⁽²²⁾

Here

⁽²³⁾

crested chiefs their bright-arm'd train

Of javelin'd horsemen rous'd amain,

And chasing wide the wolf or boar, 65

Bade the deep woodland valleys roar.

Harmless we past, and unassail'd,

Nor once at roads or turnpikes rail'd:

⁽²⁴⁾

Through depths of shade oft sun-beams broke,

Midst noble FLAXLEY'S bow'rs of oak;

⁽²⁵⁾

And many a cottage, trim and gay,

Whisper'd delight through all the way;

On hills exposed, in dells unseen,

To patriarchal MITCHEL DEAN.

Rose-cheek'd Pomona

there was seen,

And

Ceres

edged her

fields between,

And on each hill-top, mounted high,

Her sickle wav'd

⁽³¹⁾

in extasy;

Till ROSS, thy charms all hearts confess'd,

Thy peaceful walks, thy hours of rest 80

And contemplation. Here the mind,

With all its luggage left behind,

⁽³²⁾

Dame Affectation's leaden wares,

⁽³³⁾

Spleen, envy, pride, life's thousand cares,

Feels all its dormant fires revive, 85

And sees 'the Man of Ross' alive;

And hears the Twick'nham Bard

⁽³⁴⁾

again

To KYRL'S

⁽³⁵⁾

high virtues lift his strain;

Whose own hand cloth'd

⁽³⁶⁾

this far-fam'd

⁽³⁷⁾

hill

With rev'rend elms, that shade us still; 90

Whose mem'ry shall survive the day,

⁽³⁸⁾

When elms and empires feel decay.

KYRL

⁽³⁹⁾

die, by BARD ennobled? Never:

⁽⁴⁰⁾

'The Man of Ross'

⁽⁴¹⁾

shall live for ever;

Ross, that exalts its spire on high, 95

Above the flow'ry-margin'd WYE,

⁽⁴²⁾

Scene of the morrow's joy, that prest

Its unseen beauties on our rest

In dreams; but who of dreams would tell,

Where truth sustains the song so well?

⁽⁴³⁾

100

The morrow came, and Beauty's eye

Ne'er beam'd upon a lovelier sky;

Imagination instant brought,

And dash'd

⁽⁴⁴⁾

amidst the train of thought,

Tints of the bow. The boatman stript; 105

Glee at the helm exulting tript,

And waved her flower-encircled wand,

'Away, away, to Fairy Land.'

Light dipt the oars; but who can name

The various objects dear to fame, 110

That changing, doubting

⁽⁴⁵⁾

wild, and strong,

Demand the noblest powers of song?

Then, O forgive the vagrant Muse,

Ye who the sweets of Nature choose;

⁽⁴⁶⁾

And thou

⁽⁴⁷⁾

whom destiny hast

⁽⁴⁸⁾

tied 115115

To this romantic river's side,

Down gazing from each close retreat,

On boats that glide beneath thy feet,

Forgive the stranger's meagre line,

That seems to slight that spot of thine; 120

For he, alas! could only glean

The changeful outlines of the scene;

A momentary bliss; and here

Links memory's power with rapture's tear.

WHO curb'd the barons' kingly power?

⁽⁴⁹⁾

125

Let hist'ry tell that fateful hour

At home, when surly winds shall roar,

And prudence shut the study door.

DE WILTON'S here of mighty name,

The whelming flood, the summer stream, 130

Mark'd from their towers.––The fabric falls,

The rubbish of their splendid halls

Time in his march hath scatter'd wide,

And blank oblivion strives to hide.

⁽⁵⁰⁾

Awhile

⁽⁵¹⁾

the grazing herd was seen,135

And trembling willow's silver green,

Till the fantastic current stood

In line direct for PENCRAIG WOOD;

Whose bold green summit welcome bade,

Then rear'd behind his nodding shade. 140

Here, as the light boat skimm'd along,

The clarionet, and chosen song,

That mellow, wild, Eolian lay,

'Sweet in the Woodlands,'

⁽⁵²⁾

roll'd away

⁽⁵³⁾

⁽⁵⁴⁾

echoes down the stream, that bore145

Each dying close to every shore,

And forward Cape

⁽⁵⁵⁾

, and woody range,

That form the never-ceasing change,

To him who floating, void of care,

Twirls with the stream, he knows not where;

⁽⁵⁶⁾

150

Till bold, impressive, and sublime,

Gleam'd all that's left by storms and time

Of GOODRICH TOWERS. The mould'ring pile

Tells noble truths,––but dies the while;

⁽⁵⁷⁾

O'er the steep path, through brake and brier, 155

His batter'd turrets still aspire,

In rude magnificence. 'Twas here

LANCASTRIAN HENRY spread his cheer,

When came the news that HAL was born,

And MONMOUTH hail'd th' auspicious morn;

⁽⁵⁸⁾

160

A boy in sports, a prince in war,

Wisdom and valour crown'd his car;

Of France the terror, England's glory,

As Stratford's bard has told the story.

No butler's proxies snore supine, 165

Where the old monarch kept his wine;

No Welsh ox roasting, horns and all,

Adorns his throng'd and laughing hall;

But where he pray'd, and told his beads,

A thriving ash luxuriant spreads. 170

No wheels by piecemeal brought the pile;

No barks embowel'd

⁽⁵⁹⁾

Portland Isle;

⁽⁶⁰⁾

Dig, cried experience, dig away,

Bring the firm quarry into day;

The excavation still shall save 175

Those ramparts which its entrails gave.

'Here kings

⁽⁶¹⁾

shall dwell,' the builders cried,

⁽⁶²⁾

'Here England's foes shall low'r

⁽⁶³⁾

their pride;

Hither

⁽⁶⁴⁾

shall suppliant nobles come,

And

⁽⁶⁵⁾

this

⁽⁶⁶⁾

be England's royal

⁽⁶⁷⁾

home.'180

Vain hope! for on the Gwentian

⁽⁶⁸⁾

shore

⁽⁶⁹⁾

The regal banner streams no more!

Nettles, and vilest weeds that grow,

To mock poor grandeur's head laid low,

Creep round the turrets valour rais'd

⁽⁷⁰⁾

,185

And flaunt where youth and beauty gaz'd

⁽⁷¹⁾

Here fain would strangers loiter long,

And muse as Fancy's woof grows strong;

Yet cold the heart that could complain,

Where POLLETT

⁽⁷²⁾

struck his oars again;190

For lovely as the sleeping child,

The stream glides on sublimely wild,

In perfect beauty, perfect ease;

⁽⁷³⁾

The

⁽⁷⁴⁾

awning trembled in the breeze,

And scarcely trembled, as we stood 195

For REURDEAN Spire and BISHOP'S WOOD

The fair domains of COURTFIELD

⁽⁷⁵⁾

made

A paradise of mingled shade

Round BICKNOR'S tiny church, that cowers

Beneath his host of woodland bowers. 200

But who the charm of words shall fling,

⁽⁷⁶⁾

O'er RAVEN CLIFF, and COLDWELL Spring,

To brighten the unconscious eye,

And wake the soul to extasy?

Noon scorch'd the fields; the boat lay to; 205

The dripping oars had nought to do,

Where round us rose a scene that might

Enchant an idiot––glorious sight!

Here, in one gay according mind,

Upon the sparkling stream we din'd

⁽⁷⁷⁾

;210

As shepherds free on mountain heath,

Free as the fish that watch'd beneath

For falling crumbs,

⁽⁷⁸⁾

where cooling lay

The wine that cheer'd us on our way.

Th' unruffled bosom of the stream,

⁽⁷⁹⁾

215

Gave every tint and every gleam;

Gave shadowy rocks, and clear blue sky,

And double clouds of various dye;

Gave dark green woods, or russet brown,

And pendent corn-fields, upside down. 220

A troop of gleaners chang'd

⁽⁸⁰⁾

their shade,

And 'twas a change by music made;

For slowly to the brink they drew,

To mark our joy, and share it too.

How oft, in childhood's flow'ry days, 225

I've heard the wild impassion'd lays

Of such a group, lays strange and new,

And thought, was ever song so true?

⁽⁸¹⁾

When from the hazel's cool retreat

They watch'd the summer's trembling heat; 230

And through the boughs rude urchins play'd,

Where matrons, round the laughing maid,

Prest the long grass beneath! And here

They doubtless shar'd

⁽⁸²⁾

an equal cheer;

Enjoy'd the feast with equal glee, 235

And rais'd

⁽⁸³⁾

the song of revelry:

Yet half abash'd, reserv'd,

⁽⁸⁴⁾

and shy,

Watch'd till the strangers glided by.

Gleaner's Song.

DEAR ELLEN, your tales are all plenteously stor'd,

⁽⁸⁵⁾

With the joys of some bride, and the wealth of her lord: 240

Of her chariots and dresses,

And worldly caresses,

And servants that fly when she's waited upon:

But what can she boast if she weds unbelov'd?

⁽⁸⁶⁾

Can she e'er feel the joy that one morning I prov'd,

⁽⁸⁷⁾

245

When I put on my new-gown and waited for John?

These fields, my dear Ellen, I knew them of yore,

Yet to me they ne'er look'd so enchanting before;

The distant bells ringing,

The birds round us singing, 250 250

For pleasure is pure when affection is won:

They told me the troubles and cares of a wife;

But I lov'd

⁽⁸⁸⁾

him; and that was the pride of my life,

When I put on my new-gown and waited for John.

He shouted and ran, as he leapt from the stile; 255 255

And what in my bosom was passing the while?

For love knows the blessing

Of ardent caressing,

When virtue inspires us, and doubts are all gone.

The sunshine of Fortune you say is divine; 260 260

True love and the sunshine of Nature were mine,

When I put on my new-gown and waited for John.

Never could spot be suited less

To bear memorials of distress;

None, cries the sage, more fit is found, 265

They strike at once a double wound;

Humiliation bids you sigh,

And think of immortality.

⁽⁸⁹⁾

Close on the bank, and half o'ergrown,

Beneath a dark wood's sombrous frown, 270

A monumental stone appears,

⁽⁹⁰⁾

Of one who

⁽⁹¹⁾

in his blooming years,

While bathing spurn'd the grassy shore,

And sunk, midst

⁽⁹²⁾

friends, to rise no more;

⁽⁹³⁾

By parents witness'd.––Hark! their shrieks! 275

The dreadful language horror speaks!

But why in verse attempt to tell

That tale the stone records so well?

⁽⁹⁴⁾

Nothing could damp th' awaken'd joy,

Not e'en thy fate, ingenuous boy; 280

The great, the grand of Nature strove,

To lift our hearts to life and love.

HAIL! COLDWELL ROCKS; frown, frown away;

Thrust from your woods your shafts of grey:

Fall not, to crush our mortal pride, 285

Or stop the stream on which we glide.

Our lives are short, our joys are few;

⁽⁹⁵⁾

But, giants, what is time to you?

Ye who erect, in many a mass,

Rise from the scarcely dimpled glass, 290 290

That with distinct

⁽⁹⁶⁾

and mellow glow,

⁽⁹⁷⁾

Reflects your monstrous forms below;

Or in clear shoals, in breeze or sun,

Shake

⁽⁹⁸⁾

all your shadows into one;

Boast ye o'er man in proud disdain, 295

An everlasting silent reign?

⁽⁹⁹⁾

Bear ye your heads so high in scorn

Of names

⁽¹⁰⁰⁾

that puny man hath borne?

Would that the Cambrian bards had here

⁽¹⁰¹⁾

Their names carved deep, so deep, so clear,

⁽¹⁰²⁾

300

That such as gaily wind along

Might shout and cheer them with a song;

Might rush on wings of bliss away,

Through Fancy's boundless blaze of day!

⁽¹⁰³⁾

Not nameless quite ye lift your brows, 305

For each the navigator knows;

Not by King Arthur, or his knights,

Bard fam'd

⁽¹⁰⁴⁾

in lays, or chief in fights;

But former tourists, just as free,

(Tho'

⁽¹⁰⁵⁾

surely not so blest as we,)

⁽¹⁰⁶⁾

310

Mark'd towering BEARCROFT'S ivy crown,

And grey VANSITTART'S

⁽¹⁰⁷⁾

waving gown;

⁽¹⁰⁸⁾

And who's that giant by his side?

'SERGEANT ADAIR,' the boatman cried.

Strange it seem,

⁽¹⁰⁹⁾

however true,315

That here,

⁽¹¹⁰⁾

where law has nought to do,

Where rules and bonds are set aside,

By wood, by rock, by stream defy'd;

⁽¹¹¹⁾

That here,

⁽¹¹²⁾

where nature seems at strife

With all that tells of busy life, 320

Man should by names be carried still,

⁽¹¹³⁾

To Babylon against his will.

But how shall memory rehearse,

Or dictate the untoward verse

That truth demands? Could he refuse 325

Thy unsought honours, darling Muse,

He who in idle, happy trim,

⁽¹¹⁴⁾

Rode just where friends would carry him?

⁽¹¹⁵⁾

Truth, I obey.

⁽¹¹⁶⁾

––The generous band,

⁽¹¹⁷⁾

That spread his board and grasp'd his hand, 330

In native mirth, as here they came,

Gave a bluff rock his humble name:

A yew-tree clasps its rugged base;

The boatman knows its reverend face;

With his

⁽¹¹⁸⁾

memory and his fee,335

Rests the result that time shall see.

Yet e'en if

⁽¹¹⁹⁾

time shall sweep away

The fragile whimsies of a day;

Or future travellers rest the oar,

To hear the mingled echoes roar;

⁽¹²⁰⁾

340

A stranger's triumph––he will feel

⁽¹²¹⁾

A joy that death alone can steal.

And should he cold indifference feign,

And treat such honours with disdain,

Pretending pride shall not deceive him, 345

Good people all, pray don't believe him;

In such a spot to leave a name,

At least is no opprobrious fame;

This rock perhaps uprear'd his brow,

Ere human blood began to flow. 350

And let not wandering strangers fear

That WYE is ended there or here;

⁽¹²²⁾

Though foliage close, though hills may seem

To bar all access to a stream,

⁽¹²³⁾

Some airy height he climbs amain, 355

And finds the silver eel again.

No fears we form'd, no labours counted,

Yet SYMMON'S YAT must be surmounted;

A tower of rock

⁽¹²⁴⁾

that seems to cry,

'Go round about me, neighbour WYE.'

⁽¹²⁵⁾

360

On went the boat, and up the steep

Her straggling crew began to creep,

To gain the ridge, enjoy the view,

Where the fresh gales of summer blew.

The gleaming WYE, that circles round 365

Her four-mile course, again is found;

And, crouching to the conqueror's pride,

Bathes his huge cliffs on either side;

Seen at one glance, when from his brow

The eye surveys twin gulphs below. 370

Whence comes thy name? What Symon he,

Who gain'd a monument in thee?

Perhaps a wild-wood hunter, born

⁽¹²⁶⁾

Peril, and toil, and death to scorn;

⁽¹²⁷⁾

Or warrior, with his powerful lance, 375

Who scaled the cliff to gain a glance;

⁽¹²⁸⁾

Or shepherd lad,

⁽¹²⁹⁾

or humble swain,

Who sought for pasture here in vain;

Or venerable bard, who strove

To tune his harp to themes of love; 380

Or with a poet's ardent flame

Sung to the winds his country's fame?

Westward GREAT DOWARD, stretching wide,

Upheaves his iron-bowel'd

⁽¹³⁰⁾

side;

And by his everlasting mound,

⁽¹³¹⁾

385

Prescribes th' imprison'd river's bound,

And strikes the eye with mountain force:

But stranger

⁽¹³²⁾

mark thy rugged course

From crag to crag, unwilling, slow,

To NEW WEIR forge

⁽¹³³⁾

that smokes below.390

Here rush'd the keel like lightning by:

The helmsman watch'd with anxious eye;

And oars alternate touch'd the brim,

To keep the flying boat in trim.

[Illustration 1]

Forward quick changing, changing still, 395

Again rose cliff, and wood, and hill,

Where mingling foliage seem'd to strive

With dark-brown saplings, flay'd

⁽¹³⁴⁾

alive;

⁽¹³⁵⁾

Down to the gulph beneath,

⁽¹³⁶⁾

where oft

The toiling wood-boy dragg'd aloft 400

His stubborn faggot from the brim,

And gaz'd,

⁽¹³⁷⁾

and tugg'd with sturdy limb;

And where the mind repose would seek,

A barren, storm-defying peak,

The Little DOWARD, lifted high405

His rocky crown of royalty.

Hush! not a whisper! Oars, be still!

Comes that soft sound from yonder hill?

Or is it close at hand, so near

⁽¹³⁸⁾

It scarcely strikes the list'ning ear? 410

E'en so; for down the green bank

⁽¹³⁹⁾

fell

An ice-cold stream from MARTIN'S WELL,

Bright as young beauty's azure eye,

And pure as infant chastity,

⁽¹⁴⁰⁾

Each limpid draught,

⁽¹⁴¹⁾

suffus'd

⁽¹⁴²⁾

with dew415

The dipping glass's crystal hue;

And as it trembling reach'd the lip,

Delight sprung up at every

⁽¹⁴³⁾

sip.

Pure, temperate joys, and calm, were these;

⁽¹⁴⁴⁾

We tost

⁽¹⁴⁵⁾

upon no Indian seas;420

No savage chiefs, of various hue,

⁽¹⁴⁶⁾

Came jabbering in the bark canoe

⁽¹⁴⁷⁾

Our strength to dare, our course to turn;

Yet boats a South Sea chief would burn,

⁽¹⁴⁸⁾

Sculk'd in the alder shade. Each bore, 425

Devoid of keel, or sail, or oar,

An upright fisherman, with eye,

⁽¹⁴⁹⁾

Of Bramin-like solemnity,

⁽¹⁵⁰⁾

Surveyed

⁽¹⁵¹⁾

the surface either way,

And cleav'd

⁽¹⁵²⁾

it like a fly at play;430

And crossways bore a balanc'd

⁽¹⁵³⁾

pole,

To drive the salmon from his hole;

Then heedful leapt,

⁽¹⁵⁴⁾

without parade,

On shore, as luck or fancy bade;

And o'er his back, in gallant trim, 435 435

Swung the light shell that carried him;

Then down again his burden threw,

And launch'd his whirling bowl anew;

Displaying, in his bow'ry station,

The infancy of navigation. 440

Soon round us spread the hills and dales,

⁽¹⁵⁵⁾

Where GEOFFREY

⁽¹⁵⁶⁾

spun his magic tales,

And call'd them history. The land

Whence ARTHUR sprung, and all his band

Of gallant knights. Sire of romance, 445

Who led the fancy's mazy dance,

Thy tales shall please, thy name still be,

When Time forgets my verse and me.

Low sunk the sun, his ev'ning beam

Scarce reach'd us on the tranquil stream;

⁽¹⁵⁷⁾

450

Shut from the world, and all its din,

Nature's own bonds had closed us in;

Wood, and deep dell, and rock, and ridge,

From smiling Ross to MONMOUTH BRIDGE;

From morn, till twilight stole away, 455

A long, unclouded, glorious day.

END OF THE FIRST BOOK.

Notes

1.. The text of the first edition of The Banks of Wye; A Poem. In Four Books (London: Vernor, Hood & Sharpe, 1811), collated with the corrected second edition
(London, B. & R. Crosby & Co., 1813) and the third edition (London: Longman, Hurst,
Rees, Orme & Co., 1823). [back]

2.. See the note Bloomfield appended to the beginning of his manuscript 'Journal of a Ten Days' Tour': 'In my 'Shooters Hill' I have said, / "Of Cambrian Mountains still I dream" / &c.
&c. but, / "Tis not for me to trace around / The wonders of my native land" / I find
that it was through reading that poem that the tour was resolv'd on, at least that
I became one of the party. My friends guess'd that I should like it, and they never
form'd a better guess in their lives' [Bloomfield's note]. 'Shooter's Hill' appeared
in Wild Flowers. Lines 73-80 read: 'Of Cambrian mountains still I dream, /And mouldering vestiges
of war; / By time-worn cliff or classic stream / Would rove,—but prudence holds a
bar. / Come then, O Health, I'll strive to bound / My wishes to this airy stand; /
'Tis not for me to trace around / The wonders of my native land. [back]

3.. uncommon] common 1813 [back]

4.. 1813 adds] Advertisement to the Second Edition

When this Poem, or Journal, was submitted to the Public, I endeavoured to meet that
confined and temporary approbation, which its locality induced me to expect. It is,
therefore, with no small pleasure that I have, thus, in a Second Edition, the power
of correcting, and I hope amending, this favourite of my fancy, this gem of my memory,
which flashes upon me still like the sunshine of Spring. I have seen no regular critique
on the piece, strange as it may appear, (for I have left London,) and consequently,
in the present instance, have not the advantage of public criticism.

The Lady whose name appears in the Dedication is no more; she was a wife and a mother, in
their truest sense. And, it is sufficient for me to say, that she possessed the character
which distinguishes her uncle, the venerable GRANVILLE SHARP.

In my own family, I have sustained the loss of my second daughter, in her twentieth year; yet, while Providence grants me peace of mind, I enjoy repose,
and am, the Reader's Obedient, R.B. Shefford, Beds, April 7, 1813.

[back]

5.. Arthur's Hall.] omit 1813, 1823 [back]

6.. pleasure] Pleasure 1813, 1823 [back]

7.. awhile] a while 1813, 1823 [back]

8.. smoke,] smoke 1823 [back]

9.. dar'd ] dared 1823 [back]

10.. declin'd] declined 1823 [back]

11.. raptur'd] raptured 1823 [back]

12.. Bury, or Burg, the Saxon name for a hill, particularly for one wholly or partially
formed by art. [1813 adds:] Uley Bury, from the singular valley below, embosoming
Uley and Oulpen, is an eminence of singular beauty, crowned by intrenchments; though
in itself but a kind of termination of the Cotswold Hills, in which character Stinchcombe
takes the lead; and both command a vast prospect over the Severn and the mountains
of South Wales [Bloomfield's note]. [back]

13.. Mansion, and flock,] O'er mansion, flock, 1813, 1823 [back]

14.. STINCHCOMB'S] STINCHCOMBE'S 1813, 1823 [back]

15.. there] where 1813, 1823 [back]

16.. 1-41] MS A has, in place of these lines, an informal verse introduction about Giant
Scoop [link 'Giant Scoop' to unadopted MS passage doc] [back]

17.. 'Shrieks of an agonizing King': Line 56 of Thomas Gray's 'The Bard: A Pindaric Ode'
(1757), describing the death, by means of a red hot poker inserted into the rectum,
of Edward II. [back]

18.. FRAMELODE] FRAMILODE 1813, 1823 [back]

19.. curv'd] curved 1823 [back]

20.. The Avon, associated with Shakespeare's verse because it flows through Stratford,
falls into the Severn at Tewkesbury. [back]

21.. In Bloomfield's manuscript 'Journal of a Ten Days' Tour' is Robert Bransby Cooper's derivation of the word 'Bury', in Uley-Bury, from the Saxon for ant-hill. [back]

22.. And well with pomp more glorious shows / The ant-hill population knows] Omit 1813,
1823 [back]

23.. Here] When 1813, 1823 [back]

24.. Harmless we past, and unassail'd, / Nor once at roads or turnpikes rail'd:] But we no dang'rous chase pursued; / Sound wheels and hoofs their tasks renew'd; / Behind
roll'd SEVERN, gleaming far, / Around us roar'd no sylvan war, 1813, 1823 [back]

25.. Through depths of shade oft sun-beams broke, / Midst noble FLAXLEY'S bow'rs of oak;
] 'Mid depths of shade, gay sunbeams broke / Through noble FLAXLEY'S bow'rs of oak;
1813, 1823 [back]

26.. Roman goddess of apples. [back]

27.. seen] queen 1813, 1823 [back]

28.. And] Though 1813, 1823 [back]

29.. Roman goddess of crops, the harvest. [back]

30.. her] her 1813, 1823 [back]

31.. wav'd] waved 1823 [back]

32.. With all its luggage left behind,] (Its usual luggage left behind,) 1813, 1823 [back]

33.. Dame Affectation's leaden wares, / Spleen, envy, pride, life's thousand cares,] Omit
1813, 1823 [back]

34.. Alexander Pope, a resident of Twickenham on the Thames, celebrated the Man of Ross
in his third Epistle, 'To the Right Honourable Allen Lord Bathurst', lines 250-90.
Kyrle is discussed in the guidebook Bloomfield consulted: Charles Heath, The Excursion down the Wye from Ross to Monmouth (Monmouth, 1808). [back]

35.. KYRL'S] KYRLE'S 1813, 1823 [back]

36.. cloth'd] clothed 1823 [back]

37.. far-fam'd] far-famed 1823 [back]

38.. day,] day 1823 [back]

39.. KYRL] KYRLE 1813, 1823 [back]

40.. Never;] Never: 1823 [back]

41.. 'The Man of Ross'] The Man of Ross 1813, 1823 [back]

42.. Ross, that exalts its spire on high / Above the flow'ry-margin'd WYE,] And long that
spire shall time defy, / To grace the flow'ry-margin'd WYE, 1813, 1823 [back]

43.. The carriages were sent forward to meet the party at Chepstow. 1813, 1823 [Bloomfield's
note] [back]

44.. dash'd] dash'd, 1823 [back]

45.. doubting] doubling 1813, 1823 [back]

46.. choose] chuse 1813 [back]

47.. thou] thou, 1813, 1823 [back]

48.. hast] hath 1813, 1823 [back]

49.. Henry the Seventh gave an irrevocable blow to the dangerous privileges assumed by
the barons, in abolishing liveries and retainers, by which every malefactor could
shelter himself from the law, on assuming a nobleman's livery, and attending his person.
And as a finishing stroke to the feudal tenures, an act was passed, by which the barons
and gentlemen of landed interest were at liberty to sell and mortgage their lands,
without fines or licences for the alienation [Bloomfield's note]. [back]

50.. The ruins of Wilton Castle stand on the opposite side of the river, nearly fronting the town of Ross. 1813, 1823 add note [Bloomfield's note] [back]

51.. Awhile] A while 1813, 1823 [back]

52.. That mellow, wild, Eolian lay, / 'Sweet in the Woodlands,'] (That mellow, wild, Æolian
lay, / 'Sweet in the Woodlands,') 1823 [back]

53.. An air of the time, written Dr. Harrington of Bath, which became popular enough for
many different verses to be set to it. The verses that gave the air its name begin:
'How sweet in the woodlands, with fleet hound and horn, / To waken shrill Echo, and
taste the fresh morn / But hard is the chase my fond heart must pursue, / For Daphne,
fair Daphne is lost to my view'. [back]

54.. In] Their 1813, 1823 [back]

55.. Cape] cape 1813, 1823 [back]

56.. where;] where. 1823 [back]

57.. while;] while. 1823 [back]

58.. morn;] morn: 1823 [back]

59.. embowel'd] embowell'd 1823 [back]

60.. The castle, that is, was built of local stone and not stone brought from the Isle
of Portland, Dorset. [back]

61.. kings] KINGS 1813, 1823 [back]

62.. cried] cry'd 1813 [back]

63.. low'r] lower 1823 [back]

64.. Hither] 'Hither 1813, 1823 [back]

65.. And] 'And 1813, 1823 [back]

66.. this] THIS 1813, 1823 [back]

67.. royal] Royal 1813, royal 1823 [back]

68.. Gwent, in which Monmouth lies, was one of the ancient regions of Wales which supported
the Tudors. [back]

69.. shore,] shore 1823 [back]

70.. rais'd] raised 1823 [back]

71.. gaz'd] gazed 1823 [back]

72.. The boatman [Bloomfield's note]. [back]

73.. ease;] ease. 1823 [back]

74.. The] ––The 1813, 1823 [back]

75.. A seat belonging to the family of Vaughan, which is not unnoticed in the pages of
history. According to tradition, it is the place where Henry the Fifth was nursed,
under the care of the Countess of Salisbury, from which circumstance the original
name of Grayfield is said to have been changed to Courtfield*. * This is probably
an erroneous tradition; for Court was a common name for a manor-house, where the lord of the manor held his court.––Coxe's Monmouth. [Bloomfield's note, referring to William Coxe, An Historical Tour in Monmouthshire: Illustrated with views by Sir R. C. Hoare, Bart.
A New Map of the County, and other Engravings (London, 1801)]. [back]

76.. fling,] fling 1823 [back]

77.. din'd] dined 1823 [back]

78.. crumbs] crums 1823 [back]

79.. stream,] stream 1823 [back]

80.. chang'd] changed 1823 [back]

81.. true?] true! 1823 [back]

82.. They doubtless shar'd] Perhaps they shared 1813, 1823 [back]

83.. rais'd] raised 1823 [back]

84.. reserv'd] reserved 1823 [back]

85.. stor'd,] stored 1823 [back]

86.. unbelov'd] unbeloved 1823 [back]

87.. prov'd] proved 1823 [back]

88.. lov'd] loved 1823 [back]

89.. immortality] poor mortality 1813, 1823 [back]

90.. appears,] appears 1823 [back]

91.. who] who, 1823 [back]

92.. midst] 'midst 1823 [back]

93.. more;] more. 1823 [back]

94.. Inscription on the side towards the water.

'Sacred to the memory of JOHN WHITEHEAD WARRE, who perished near this spot, whilst
bathing in the river Wye, in sight of his afflicted parents, brother, and sisters,
on the 14th of September, 1804, in the sixteenth year of his age.

GOD'S WILL BE DONE,

Who, in his mercy, hath granted consolation to the parents of the dear departed, in
the reflection, that he possessed truth, innocence, filial piety, and fraternal affection,
in the highest degree. That, but a few moments before he was called to a better life,
he had (with a never to be forgotten piety) joined his family in joyful thanks to
his Maker, for the restoration of his mother's health. His parents, in justice to
his amiable virtue and excellent disposition, declare, that he was void of offence
towards them. With humbled hearts they bow to the Almighty's dispensation; trusting,
through the mediation of his blessed Son, he will mercifully receive their child he
so suddenly took to himself.

'This monument is here erected to warn parents and others how they trust the deceitful
stream; and particularly to exhort them to learn and observe the directions of the
Humane Society, for the recovery of persons apparently drowned. Alas! it is with the
extremest sorrow here commemorated, what anguish is felt from a want of this knowledge.
The lamented youth swam very well; was endowed with great bodily strength and activity;
and possibly, had proper application been used, might have been saved from his untimely
fate. He was born at Oporto, in the kingdom of Portugal, on the 14th of February,
1789; third son of James Warre, of London, and of the county of Somerset, merchant,
and Elinor, daughter of Thomas Gregg, of Belfast, Esq.

'Passenger, whoever thou art, spare this tomb! It is erected for the benefit of the
surviving, being but a poor record of the grief of those who witnessed the sad occasion
of it. God preserve you and yours from such calamity! May you not require their assistance;
but if you should, the apparatus, with directions for the application by the Humane
Society, for the saving of persons apparently drowned, are lodged at the church of
Coldwell.'

On the opposite side is inscribed,

'It is with gratitude acknowledged by the parents of the deceased, that permission
was gratuitously, and most obligingly, granted for the erection of this monument,
by William Vaughan, Esq. of Courtfield' [Bloomfield's note].

[back]

95.. few;] few: 1813; few. 1823 [back]

96.. distinct] distinct, 1813 [back]

97.. glow,] glow 1823 [back]

98.. Shake] Shakes 1813, 1823 [back]

99.. An everlasting silent reign?] A silent, everlasting reign? 1813, 1823 [back]

100.. names] names 1813, 1823 [back]

101.. Would that the Cambrian bards had here] Proud rocks! had Cambria's bards but here
1813, 1823 [back]

102.. Their names carved deep, so deep, so clear,] Their names engraven, deep and clear, 1813, 1823 [back]

103.. Might shout and cheer them with a song; / Might rush on wings of bliss away, / Through
Fancy's boundless blaze of day!] Might greet with shouts these sires of song, / And
trace the fame that mortal's crave / To LIGHT and LIFE beyond the grave! / Then might
ye boast your wreaths entwined / With trophies of the deathless MIND; / Then would
your fronts record on high, / 'We perish!––MAN can never die!' 1813, 1823 [back]

104.. fam'd] famed 1823 [back]

105.. Tho'] Though 1823 [back]

106.. ] A group of wranglers from the bar, / Suspending here their mimic war–– 1813, 1823 [back]

107.. Robert Vansittart (1728-1789), antiquarian, friend of Hogarth and Johnson, Professor
of Law at Oxford. In person tall and very thin; leading the members of the Oxford
bar to give the name of 'Counsellor Van' to a sharp-pointed rock on the Wye. [back]

108.. gown;] gown: 1823 [back]

109.. Strange it seem] Yet strange it seems 1813, 1823 [back]

110.. here] here 1813, 1823 [back]

111.. defy'd] defied 1823 [back]

112.. here] here 1813, 1823 [back]

113.. still,] still 1823 [back]

114.. He who in idle, happy trim,] Who thus, in idle, happy, trim, 1813, 1823 [back]

115.. ] And thus hath since his cares beguiled / By rhymes as joyous, and as wild? 1813, 1823 [back]

116.. I obey] he obeys 1813 [back]

117.. Truth, I obey.––The generous band,] Truth he obeys. The generous band, 1823 [back]

118.. his] POLLETT'S 1813, 1823 [back]

119.. e'en if] whether 1813, 1823 [back]

120.. roar;] roar 1813, 1823 [back]

121.. A stranger's triumph––he will feel] A stranger's triumph! He will feel 1813, 1823 [back]

122.. And let not wandering strangers fear / That WYE is ended there or here;] Nor let the
wandering stranger fear / That WYE here ends her wild career; 1813, 1823 [back]

123.. Though foliage close, though hills may seem / To bar all access to a stream] Though
closing boughs,––though hills may seem / To bar egress to the stream 1813, 1823 [back]

124.. rock] rock, 1823 [back]

125.. This rocky isthmus, perforated at the base, would measure not more than six hundred
yards, and its highest point is two thousand feet above the water. If this statement,
taken from Coxe's History of Monmouthshire, and an Excursion down the Wye, by C. Heath,
of Monmouth, is correct, its elevation is greater than that of the 'Pen y Vale,' or
'Sugar-Loaf-Hill,' ['Sugar-Loaf-Mountain,' 1813, 1823] near Abergavenny. Yet it has less the appearance of a mountain, than the river has that of an excavation.
[It is probable that some error has crept into the publications above named. 1813,
1823] [Bloomfield's note, referring to William Coxe, An Historical Tour in Monmouthshire: Illustrated with views by Sir R. C. Hoare, Bart.
A New Map of the County, and other Engravings (London, 1801), and Charles Heath, The Excursion down the Wye from Ross to Monmouth (Monmouth, 1808)]. [back]

126.. hunter, born] hunter,––born 1813, 1823 [back]

127.. scorn;] scorn. 1813 [back]

128.. to gain a glance,] to mark th' advance 1813; to mark the advance 1823 [back]

129.. Or shepherd lad,] Of rival arms.— 1813; Of rival arms; 1823 [back]

130.. iron-bowel'd] iron-bowell'd 1823 [back]

131.. mound,] mound 1823 [back]

132.. But stranger] But, stranger, 1823 [back]

133.. forge] forge, 1813, 1823 [back]

134.. The custom is here alluded to of stripping the bark from oaks while growing, which
gives an almost undescribable, though not the most agreeable, effect to the landscape
[Bloomfield's note]. [back]

135.. alive;] alive, 1823 [back]

136.. beneath,] beneath; 1813, 1823 [back]

137.. gaz'd] gazed 1823 [back]

138.. Or is it close at hand, so near] Or is the sound so faint, though near 1813, 1823 [back]

139.. bank] bank, 1813 [back]

140.. chastity,] chastity; 1823 [back]

141.. draught,] draught 1823 [back]

142.. suffus'd] suffused 1823 [back]

143.. every] ev'ry 1813 [back]

144.. these;] these 1823 [back]

145.. tost] toss'd 1823 [back]

146.. chiefs, of various hue] Chiefs, with tawny crew 1813, 1823 [back]

147.. In Cæsar's Commentaries, mention is made of boats of this description, formed of a
raw hide, (from whence, perhaps, their name Coricle,) [Coracle 1823] which were in
use among the natives. How little they dreamed of the vastness of modern perfection,
and of the naval conflicts of latter days! [Bloomfield's note, referring to Caesar's
Commentaries on the Gallic Wars]. Bloomfield's imagination was caught by what he read about South Sea island customs
and society. In a note to The Farmer's Boy; a Rural Poem (London, 1800), p. 102, he quotes a passage from 'Reflections of Otaheite: Cook's
second Voyage' thus: 'The King, at times, amuses himself with the occupations of his
subjects; and not yet depraved by false notions of empty state, he often paddles his
own canoe, without considering such an employment derogatory to his dignity'. He probably
read the passage in The Lady's Magazine; or Entertaining Magazine for the fair Sex or The Town and Country
Magazine, or Universal Repository for May 1777. [back]

148.. burn,] burn 1823 [back]

149.. eye,] eye 1823 [back]

150.. solemnity,] solemnity 1823 [back]

151.. Surveyed] Who scanned 1813, 1823 [back]

152.. cleav'd] cleaved 1823 [back]

153.. balanc'd] balanced 1823 [back]

154.. leapt] leap'd 1823 [back]

155.. dales,] dales 1823 [back]

156.. Geoffrey of Monmouth (c. 1100-c. 1155), clergyman whose Historia Regum Britanniae narrates the lives of Lear, Cymbeline, Merlin and Arthur. [back]

157.. stream;] stream: [back]

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