Classic Poem

Whilst abler pens in politics engage,
Guided too oft with zealous party rage,
Contending bards in contradiction write,
Some led by interest, others rul'd by spite,
Conceal'd in rural shades obscure I'll sing:
My muse enraptur'd soars on fancy's wing,
Thy beauties Lumley-Castle to rehearse,
And crown with Scarbro's name my humble verse;
On yonder eminence the fabric stands,
The venerable work of ancient hands;
A fragrant shrubbery its walls surround,
And clumps of fir adorn the distant ground,
Whilst, winding round the hills, the eye mistakes
The Wear's meanders for unnumber'd lakes.
Such the external view, within we find
The charms of nature by art's hand refin'd.
What ornaments adorn the lordly dome,
And decorate each spacious noble room;
Where taste and elegance their charms display,
And splendor triumphs with unbounded sway!
Behold a noble and majestic band,
The product of the painter's skilful hand,
The ancestors of Lumley's ancient race,
Whose lives in history's annals find a place,
Hung round with trophies of immortal fame,
Their dauntless looks heroic deeds proclaim!
Nor less illustrious, valiant, wise, and good,
By virtue dignify'd, as well as blood,
The present race of martial youths, who claim
The honours justly due to Scarbro's name,
Whose firm intrepid courage must demand,
The thanks and blessings of their native land.
And now yon lofty turrets let me climb,
And view the prospect beauteous and sublime,
Where gilded spires, and glitt'ring towns arise,
And distant mountains meet the bending skies:
Woods, rivers, groves, and meadows, all conspire,
To charm the bosom, and the soul to fire —
But here the muse lets fall an anxious tear,
And asks in fault'ring accents, caused by fear,
" Shall this magnificent, this stately scat,
" Where all that's noble, grand, and charming meet,
" Be left deserted, desolate, forlorn,
" The constant absence of its Lord to mourn:
" Shall she, who gave this noble lineage birth,
" Distinguish'd less by title than by worth,
" With all her blooming offspring hence retire,
" And distant plains with gen'ral joy inspire? "
And yet, propitious heaven! where'er they go,
May thy best, choicest blessings on them flow;
May health and happiness their lives adorn,
And meek-eyed peace salute each rising morn:
And O! at length, may time, with lenient hand,
Again conduct them to this northern land;
Here with their presence chearfulness restore,
And leave it uninhabited no more.