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Where poor Augustin rests; yet there is The heath.flower, Still the naked hill one

uprears Who knows the spot, and often turns aside Sublime its granite pyramid, and while Lone wandering o'er the bleak and silent The statue, and the column, and the fane Moor,

Superb, the boast of man, in fairer climes, To view the stranger's grave !"

Crockern, than thine, have strew'd the

groaning earth Is that Crockern Tor? It is. Much With beauteous ruin, the enduring Tor, have many antiquaries written about Batlling the elements and fate, remains, it, though but few have seen it, and Claiming our reverence, that proudly here in a note is some account of

lower'd the grey antiquity. We see it more Of old, above the Senate of the Moor." distinctly in the vignette-for 'tis That Dartmoor and its borders within an inch of our nose-than were once rather thickly inhabited, glimmering yonder in the blue agrees with tradition, and is obvious hazy distance, an undistinguishable from the many remains of rude cairn-like heap. The President's, or houees, standing singly, but more Judge's chair, part of the bench for or less near each other, generally on the jurors, and three irregular steps, the sides of the hills, built of unare still partially visible, but 'tis in wrought stones placed upon each a sad state of delapidation. 'Tis in other, in the simplest manner, withdeed one of the most interesting out cement, having entrances, but relics extant of old British manners now no roof, and varying in diameter, -memorial of the Saxon Witena- the largest being about twelve feet. gemot, which, like the Stannary Par. Fosbrook, in his Architectural Antiliament, was held in the open air. quities, gives the representation of

à dwelling of the ancient Britons, “ Nor waving crops, nor leaf, nor flowers

which corresponds with the remains adorn Thy sides, deserted Crockern! Over thee

on the moor. We agree with the

annotator on this poem, is it the The winds have ever held dominion; thou Art still their heritage, and fierce they

author or his ingenious son ?) that

it is absurd to suppose as some have Thy solitary hill, what time the storm

supposed, that these small and inconHowls o'er the shrinking moor. The

venient houses were used for penscowling gales

ning sheep, and preserving them durThis moment slumber, and a dreary calm

ing the night from wild beasts. We Prevails, the calm of death; the listless believe with him that they were the eye

residences of shepherd men. The Turns from thy utter loneliness. Yet Britons retiring before the Romans man,

who evidently had permanent footIn days long flown, upon the mount's ing both in Devon and Cornwall, high crest

found a place of shelter in Dartmoor. Has braved the highland gale, and made And there are many erect stones, the rocks

some inscribed, and some not, on Re-echo with his voice. Not always thus

and near the moor, which he conjecHas hover'd, Crockern, o'er thy leafless tures plausibly might have been scalp,

erected to perpetuate the memory The silence and the solitude that now

of Athelstane's victorious advance Oppresses the crush'd spirit; for I stand,

when he assumed the title of King Where once the Fathers of the Forest held (An iron race) the Parliament that gave

of all Britain, after having driven

the natives across the Tamar, at a The forest law. Ye legislators, nursed In lap of modern luxury, revere

time when Cornwall and Anglo-CorThe venerable spot, where, simply clad,

nubia, (under the heptarchy,) comAnd breathing mountain breezes, sternly

prehended half of the city of Exesat

ter, Totness, and all westward. The bardy mountain council. O'er them

Many an old remain would lose bent

ninety-nine parts of its hundred No other dome but that in which the

Druid power over us, did we know cloud

for certain that a Druid had ever Sails, the blue dome of heaven. The ivy

brained there a human victim on hung

the stone of sacrifice. "Tis right Its festoons round the Tor, and at the to write all sorts of things about foot

all sorts of ruins. No fear of asOf that rude fabric piled by nature, certaining the tri

certaining the truth. They are enbloom'd

veloped in glimmerings, if not in


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glooms; and thereforeare they haunt- hymn of inarticulate joy wide over ed. All the thin ghosts of buried the whole wilderness ! But intensely generations would go, if they thought listening, we perceive that it has fine we knew in what age they had drop- modulations in its melody; for it is ped the dust. They inhabit oblivion; the voice of streams, and each is and to them it is oblivion, when the singing, with a somewhat different Past mocks the living with the faint voice, the same serene tune, accomApparition of Time who is now their panied with a “stilly sound" even Monarch, having succeeded, nobody more etherial, which can be nothing knows when, to Death. But the else, surely, than one echo compoPoet peoples those huts on the moor sed of many echoes, some of them --those roofless huts, with their feeble wild and sweet, from the mystery of walls, solitary, and decayed amid the the Tors. We can dream down each silent fight of ages-he peoples desert-born from source to sea. them with the fierce Danmonii- Not one of them all trips it more giving the phantoms both—“ local deftly, “ on light fantastic toe," habitation and a name.”

while yet in his childish glee among “ With filial awe

the moorlands, than the Teign; not I stand, where erst my brave forefathers one of them all sooner flows into a stood,

statelier beauty-among wooded hills Where now they sleep. Ye thoughts of or bare granite rocks-till at High other days!

Bridge, near Drewsteignton antiquiHow swiftly do you crowd upon my soul. ties, it finds its way between mounThose silent vales have swarmd with tainous ridges and ere long we behuman life,

holdThose hills have echoed to the hunter's “The hoary Cromlech wildly raised voice,

Above the nameless dead." When rang the chace, the battle burn'd, Tradition generally magnifies what

the notes Of silvan joy at high festivities

it mystifies; but this Cromlech is Awoke the soul to gladness. Dear to

called the Spinster's Rock. It was

believed that three spinsters, or unhim His native hill, in simple garb attired,

married women, erected it one mornThe mountaineer here roam'd. and oft ing before breakfast for their amuseattain'd

ment. Perhaps they were the FatesThat hale and happy age, which blesses

“And near the edge still

of the loud howling stream a LOGAN His vigorous descendants, scattered stands, round

Haply self-poised, for Nature loves to The moor's cold edge. Detested be the work hand,

Such miracles as these amid the depths The sacrilegious hand, that would destroy Of forest solitudes. Her magic hand These mouldering huts, which time has With silent chisel fashion'd the rough kindly spared

rock, To this late hour; and long from fierce as. And placed the central weight so tenderly, saults

That almost to the passing brecze it Of the loud wintry storm, from whelming yields rush

Submissive motion.” of mountain-torrent, chief from human Many auxiliar brooks soon swell grasp

thee, Teign ! into no unnoble river, Rapacious be each sacred pile preserved ; and many a merry mansion laughs To bless his wanderings who delights to towards thee on thy silvan course, steal

from lawn bedropt with trees, " each From yonder world, and in the deepening in itself a grove." And we see thee

noon Wind o'er the noiseless moor his thought

passing that pleasant picture of a

town, glad, but not impatient to less way.

bear dancing on thy back or bosom, Hush! we do, indeed, hear the with twinkling oar or red-dyed sail, voice of streams. Is it of streams ? a flock of fishing,-or are they all A faint, far, multitudinous mur- pleasure-boats ?- in among the bil. mur, very spiritual, as if the air lows of the bay that in its homefelt between the moon and the moun- quietude hardly seems belonging to tainous clouds were a living exist- the sea. ence, and awaking from his mid- Is it from the Urn of Cranmere, day sleep, were breathing a grateful the urn that lies guarded from the

hill-ponies leaping like roes, by Where erst, all danger past, in silvan many quaking bogs, which to ventu- scene, rous footsteps send up a long low Reposed immortal Drake.” muttering groan, as if to say, Buckland Abbey! A square mag

Procul, procul, este profani !" sive tower, a turret in the court-yard, that thou, sweet Dart! dost in and a few trifling vestiges-all that truth draw thy mysterious birth ? remains of the old structure! wildly The Mere of Cranes! with its earthwreathed with the funeral ivy-the quake-planted pillar, tall as Gog or

richest we ever saw-mosses and Magog !-Well dost thou deserve

lichens in which ages are softly imbedthy name; for while the desert above

ded-a dream of old undisturbed and thee lifts his Tors, thou art

undisturbable among the newnesses, “ Swift as an arrow from the Tartar's

not ungraceful, of the modern day !

Son of the Brave! thyself as brave! bow.” But after a mad conflict of cataracts

wilt thou, when sailing in thy ship with cliffs, sometimes in the open

along the Indian seas, (Hyacinth on

hyacinth, sometimes remember the air, and sometimes in the gloom of

day we wandered, each following his woods, thou seem'st to take breath

own fancies, but seldom far apart, among the lovely enclosures near Holne Chase, and flowing apparently

among the sweet secrecies of those slow, but really swift, through Ash

many-coloured woods! Here are

some lines that might almost seem to burton's charming valley, softening as if thou fain would’st linger there,

have been written for or by ourselves; Totness rejoices in thy margin so

except that the fits of melancholy beautifully fringed with woods, and

amid our mirth were almost imperthence, varying thy character with a

ceptible, as the faint shadows of the

fleecy clouds on the sunshine that gay inconstancy, sinuous and insinuating as a serpent, thou expandest

kept dancing round our feet, as thou,

in the pride of youthful manhood, thyself gradually into grandeur, and with a good offing between Berry

and the stately strength of thy prime,

we “somewhat declined, yet that not Head and the Start in squally wea

much,” (oh ! say it not, "into the vale ther the ship-boy sees thee from the giddy mast ending thy career in the

of years !") like a young and an old lee-shore foam.

stag bounded together, along long Oh! that we had been born many

bigh green Walkham Common, nor

sought the shelter of that crowning centuries ago, and had been a monk of Tavistock. To our ears, by that Ab

grove, though lured thither by tempbey's mouldering walls, seems now

tation that hath drawn many men of the silver Tavy to be complainingly

all ages from the safe high-way of flowing on; but ere long

love and fealty to the image that in In bays indenting all the bowery

their souls they adored! shore,"

“Few months have passed, he gathers gladness from mead-min Francisco, since I wander'd here with gled woods, till he clasps the “ Vir- thee, tuous Lady” in his arms, and then, as In converse sweet, through all the sumif afraid of her frowns, lays himself

mer-day; down wimpling at her haughty feet.

How brief that day! The bird was on the But lo! the Walkham,


The butterfly was kissing every flower, “ Swollen by fresh brooklets from the deep-seam'd hills,"

The bee was wandering by with lulling

hum, in twilight gloom is mingling with And eve almost unnoticed, came, as still his clearer waters, and we pause We traced the Tavey's course. The fare“In yonder dome,

well song Above whose aged tower the leafy elm Of grove and sky arose; and, while those Lifts its tall head, the hand of genius strains graves

Swell’d on the ear, the river lifted high The deathless name of ELLIOT. For the Her voice responsive. Soon the lofty brave

bank Demand our homage, and with pensive Refreshed magnificently, tree on tree step,

Ascending emulously to the brow, As slow we follow where the devious One noble sheet of leaf, save where the flood

rock Allures, with reverence mark the spot Shew'd its grey naked scalp. But swist spot

on all

Fall evening's anxious shade; and ere we against the Breakwater, within stood

which the little waves, like 80 Where Maristowe o'er Tamar throws the many lambs, lay themselves down glance

.! Upon the anchor'd vessel's side." To hills Cornubian, on the western steep Hover'd the sinking orb; and, as the But that vision will rise again, at groves

our bidding, in all its magnificence Of Warleigh glitter'd with his last fond -and now we turn to take farewell smile,

of the Moor. And it shall be in the He dyed with thousand tints the mingling words of Carrington, whom, in grafloods,

titude, we pronounce a PoetAnd threw supernal glories on the scene."

« On the very edge Dartmoor! Thou art the Father of the vast moorland, startling every eye, of Plymouth-for thou art the Father A shape enormous rises ! High it towers of Plym. We hear thee rushing by Above the hill's bold brow, and seen Sheepstore's Dark-browed rock

from far, Sheepstore, where is a cavern, so be Assumes the human form ; a Granite lieve the rural dwellers, the Palace

God! of the Pixies—the Devonshire Fairies,

To whom, in days long down, the supSeats like those of art, but to our

pliant knee eyes liker those of nature-and a

In trembling homage bow'd. The ham

lets near spring of purest water! The imaginative dark-eyed daughters of Devon

Have legends rude connected with the never visit it, with their sweethearts


(Wild swept by every wind,) on which he on a holyday, without leaving some

stands, offering of moss or eatables for the

The giant of the Moor. Unnumbered “ Silent People.” Beneath the Tor

shapes lies the village of the same name

By nature strangely form’d, fantastic, with its fine foamy cascade. Then

vast, comes the Meavy from that part of The silent desert throng. 'Tis said that the Moor where once stood Siward's here Cross, and with its tributaries takes The Druid wander'd. Haply have those the name of Plym. There stands hills the Dead-alive Meavy Oak! Now With shouts ferocious, and the mingled he is hollow-hearted-for Time with shriek his scythe has scooped a cavity that Resounded, when to Jupiter upflamed once accommodated nine persons at The human catacomb. The frantic Seer a dinner party, but is now used as a There built his sacred circle ; for he loved turf-house. Wide enough to shelter To worship on the mountain's breast su. a flock of sheep is the canopy of the

blime, lower and living branches - but the The earth his altar, and the bending top is singed, and blasted, and bald, heaven and black, save where the outer part His canopy magn

His canopy magnificent. The rocks of the wood has mouldered off in the That crest the grove-crowned hill he stormy rains, and left a preternatural scooped to hold whiteness, which, when seen glim

The lustral waters; and to wondering

crowds mering against the back ground of a serene evening sky, has a melancholy

And ignorant, with fearful hand he

rock'd aspect, like the ghost of a giant. Comes now the ever-howling Cad, to

The yielding Logan. Practised to de.

ceive, join the Plym“ near thy bridge, ro- Himself deceived, he swayed the fearmantic Shaugh!” nor far from De

struck throng werstone, with its hawks and ravens By craftiest stratagems; and (falsely deem-a rock-mountain split by thunder- ' ed bolts—yet beautiful, in his terrors, The minister of heaven) with bloodiest with a passionate profusion of clasp

rites ing ivy, and a loving flush of flowers He awed the prostrate isle, and held the happy in the crevices of the cliffs. We have a vision, the Lara Bridge, From age to age with superstition's and hear the billowy surge broken spells."


Printed by Ballantyne and Company, Paul's Work, Edinburgh,

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Stre-I approach your Majesty But I shall tell your Majesty, that the with all the deference due to the simple announcement of the measure possessor of the throne, and to the has raised a tumult of congratularightful head of the Church of Eng- tion through the lowest depths of land. No subject of your Majesty Jacobinism in the land. That the can feel a deeper veneration for your whole faction of the hostile to Gorank as the Sovereign, or a more loyal and unshaken zeal for the sup.

vernment, the rapacious for plunder,

and the malignant against religion, port of all your royal privileges. If have rejoiced throughout all their I now presume to address your Ma- borders. That the enemies of your jesty in person, as the third estate Majesty's line have heard it as the and final voice in the decisions of the Legislature, it is only from an

sound of a trumpet to awake them

from their sleep, to put them in earnest desire to see those privileges array for the day of revolt, and retained in their full exercise, your march to the assault of every great constitutional power still standing protecting institution of the Empire. forth, as of old, the sure refuge to Those men are wise in their geneyour people, and your throne guarda ration. They speculate at a distance ed from assaults, which no honour- upon their effect. They do not strike able or religious mind can contem in the first instance at those things plate without the strongest abhor. which rouse national alarm. They rence and indignation.

leave the warehouses of the merA Bill has been brought forward chant yet untouched.

They have in Parliament, enacting a series of yet but half avowed their determinachanges in that branch of the British tion against the lands of the Nobles. Protestant Church which yet exists They have not gone much beyond a in Ireland. The Bill has been brought

sneer at the throne; but they dig in by your Majesty's Ministers. I into the foundations of the Church. make no charge against those Mini There they lay their combustibles. sters. They are men of character, They call the people to look on and some of distinguished name, all of applaud their labours in preparing much popularity,

In those they the fall, of what they pronounce the have great materials of public good cumberer of the land. When all is and evil. Their intentions are in ready then will come the explosion; their own breasts. They may be un. the Church will sink into the gulf, conscious of the extent of their Bill, and the whole loosened fabric of


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