A rural Lord might dwell."
Replied our Friend, a Chronicler who stood
Where'er he moved upon familiar ground,
"Nor feudal power is there; but there abides,
In his allotted Home, a genuine Priest,
The Shepherd of his Flock; or, as a King
Is stiled, when most affectionately praised,
The Father of his People. Such is he,
And rich and poor, and young and old, rejoice
Under his spiritual sway, collected round him
In this sequestered Realm. He hath vouchsafed
To me some portion of his kind regard ;
And something also of his inner mind
Hath he imparted—but I speak of him
As he is known to all. The calm delights
Of unambitious piety he chose,
And learning's solid dignity; though born
Of knightly race, nor wanting powerful friends.
This good to reap, these pleasures to secure,
Hither, in prime of manhood, he withdrew
From academic bowers. He loved the spot,
Who does not love his native soil? he prized
The ancient rural character, composed
Of simple manners, feelings unsuppressed
And undisguised, and strong and serious thought; A character reflected in himself,
With such embellishment as well beseems
His rank and sacred function. This deep vale
Is lengthened out by many a winding reach,
Not visible to us; and one of these
A turretted manorial Hall adorns ;
In which the good Man's Ancestors have dwelt
From age to age, the Patrons of this Cure.
To them, and to his decorating hand,
The Vicar's Dwelling, and the whole Domain,
Owes that presiding aspect which might well
Attract your notice; statelier than could else
Have been bestowed, in course of common chance,
On an unwealthy mountain Benefice."
This said, oft halting we pursued our way; Nor reached the Village Church-yard till the sun, Travelling at steadier pace than ours, had risen Above the summits of the highest hills,
And round our path darted oppressive beams.
As chanced, the portals of the sacred Pile
Stood open, and we entered. On my frame,
At such transition from the fervid air,
A grateful coolness fell, that seemed to strike
The heart, in concert with that temperate awe
And natural reverence, which the Place inspired.
Not framed to nice proportions was the Pile,
But large and massy; for duration built.
With pillars crowded, and the roof upheld
By naked rafters intricately crossed,
Like leafless underboughs, in some thick grove,
All withered by the depth of shade above.
Admonitory Texts inscribed the walls,
Each, in its ornamental scroll, enclosed,-
Each also crowned with winged heads- -a pair
Of rudely-painted Cherubim. The floor
Of nave and aisle, in unpretending guise,
Was occupied by oaken benches, ranged
In seemly rows; the chancel only shewed
Some inoffensive marks of earthly state
And vain distinction. A capacious pew
Of sculptured oak stood here, with drapery lined;
And marble Monuments were here displayed
Upon the walls; and on the floor beneath
Sepulchral stones appeared, with emblems graven,
And foot-worn epitaphs, and some with small
And shining effigies of brass inlaid.
-The tribute by these various records claimed,
Without reluctance did we pay; and read
The ordinary chronicle of birth,
Office, alliance, and promotion-all
Ending in dust; of upright Magistrates,
Grave Doctors strenuous for the Mother Church,
And uncorrupted Senators-alike
To King and People true. A brazen plate,
Not easily decyphered, told of One
Whose course of earthly honour was begun
In quality of page among the Train
Of the eighth Henry, when he crossed the seas
His royal state to shew, and prove his strength
In tournament, upon the fields of France.
Another Tablet registered the death,
And praised the gallant bearing of a Knight
Tried in the sea-fights of the second Charles. Near this brave Knight his Father lay entombed ; And, to the silent language giving voice,
I read,-how in his manhood's earlier day
He, 'mid the afflictions of intestine War
And rightful Government subverted, found
One only solace, that he had espoused
A virtuous Lady tenderly beloved
For her benign perfections: and for this
Yet more endeared to him, that in her state
Of wedlock richly crowned with heaven's regard,
She with a numerous Issue filled his House,
Who throve, like Plants, uninjured by the Storm
That laid their Country waste. No need to speak
Of less particular notices assigned
To Youth or Maiden gone before their time,
And Matrons and unwedded Sisters old;
Whose charity and goodness were rehearsed
In modest panegyric. "These dim lines,
What would they tell?" said I,-but, from the task
Of puzzling out that faded Narrative,
With whisper soft my venerable Friend
Called me; and looking down the darksome aisle
I saw the Tenant of the lonely Vale
Standing apart; with curved arm reclined
On the baptismal Font; his pallid face
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