In Arlo Glynne this baron's castle stood,
The loveliest Glynne, of lovely Innisfail:
In stateliest pride here frown'd the dark'ning wood,
Here streamlets murmur'd down the vernant vale;
Here harvests wav'd beneath the evening gale,
Here stags high-bounding roam'd the wild Gaultees,
Along whose sides the sheets of vapour sail;
Where deep entraunc'd the lonely hunter fees
Ideal forms to mount the pinions of the breeze.