Classic Poem

Muse, first of Arden tell, whose footsteps yet are found
In her rough woodlands more than any other ground
That mighty Arden held even in her height of pride;
Her one hand touching Trent, the other, Severn's side.
The very sound of these the wood nymphs doth awake:
When thus of her own self the ancient forest spake:
"My many goodly sites when first I came to show,
Here opened I the way to mine own overthrow:
For when the world found out the fitness of my soil,
The gripple wretch began immediately to spoil
My tall and goodly woods, and did my grounds enclose;
By which, in little time, my bounds I came to lose.
When Britain first her fields with villages had filled,
Her people waxing still, and wanting where to build,
They oft dislodged the hart, and set their houses, where
He in the broom and brakes had long time made his lair.
Of all the forests here within this mighty isle,
If those old Britons then me sovereign did instile,
I needs must be the great'st, for greatness 'tis alone
That gives our kind the place: else were there many a one
For pleasantness of shade that far doth me excel.
But of our forests' kind the quality to tell,
We equally partake with woodland as with plain,
Alike with hill and dale; and every day maintain
The sundry kinds of beasts upon our copious wastes,
That men for profit breed, as well as those of chase.'
Here Arden of her self ceased any more to show;
And with her sylvan joys the Muse along doth go.