On the Banks

A beautiful Walk , so called, on the B ANKS of the W EAR .

T HE charms of Paradise historians tell,
E'er Eve transgress'd, or our forefather fell,
But had those poets seen these charming groves,
These verdant beauteous walks, these gay alcoves,
Fir'd with the theme, they'd bid description flow,
And stiled these mansions Paradise below.
Here nature reigns unrivall'd thro' the whole,
With native negligence she charms the soul,
Beyond the rules of art extends her sway,
And strews with various charms the winding way;
Charms that might sooth to peace tumultuous rage,
And please, or thoughtless youth, or thoughtful age.
In serpentine meanders flows the Wear,
And seems a floating, liquid landscape here;
Such various scenes reflect on every side,
And paint their transient beauties on the tide;
The ravish'd eye in sweet confusion strays,
Is lost in the perplexing, pleasing maze,
And could for ever on these objects gaze.
There stands the solemn oak with foliage brown,
Here sirs and elms the rising hillocks crown,
There pendant shades of quiv'ring poplars bend,
And o'er the cooling streams their boughs extend;
The glossy laurel and the lofty pine
Along the walk their waving branches join
To form a sylvan portico design'd,
To shade from the approach of sun and wind.
Just in the centre of this calm retreat,
Cut from the rock you see a rustic seat,
The rugged rock hangs arching from above,
Beneath a carpet, nature's velvet, wove
Of grass and moss, bedeckt with various hues,
Besprinkled morn and eve with balmy dews.
The opening branches give a prospect o'er,
And shew the beauties of the distant shore,
Where Dussle's gardens please th' admiring eye,
And the bright azure of yon bending sky.
Here contemplation uncontroul'd can soar
Beyond the stars, and nature's God adore;
Here practise virtue, here reform the mind,
And cast the thoughts of every woe behind.
Behold yon shatter'd cliffs that rugged rise,
And seem with broken spires to pierce the skies!
The rough mishapen cavern lifts its head,
And frightful yawning sheds an awful dread;
Whilst twining ivies round the ruin climb,
And oozing drops in murmuring accents chime;
Yet those with dignity adorn the scene,
Those add fresh beauties to th' enamell'd green,
And with unpolish'd grandeur, rudely great,
Render the charming landscape more compleat.
Amid the leafy lab'rinth of the shade,
With fretful murmuring flows a steep cascade;
Rapid it foams and flashes down the slope,
And seems to rave for want of larger scope,
Till, joining with the river's flowing tide,
'Tis pacify'd, and soon forgets to chide;
Rolls off in silent lapses down the flood,
Lost in the windings of the verdant wood.
Let angry passions on the hint improve,
Contention cease, and lose themselves in love;
And as those fretful waters cease to roar,
Indulge their peevish, pensive thoughts no more.
On stately arches rais'd a modern bridge there stands,
Which strikes our notice, and our praise demands,
Where Architecture all its art has shewn;
To polish'd columns turn'd the rugged stone,
And all along in height, in breadth, in length,
United beauty, ornament, and strength.
Ascending up yon gently rising ground,
An airy prospect opens all around:
Edg'd round with box, and lin'd with spiry yew,
Yon spacious walk presents a charming view,
O'er hills and vallies, woods and flow'ry fields,
And all the scenes that liberal nature yields;
Where smiling liberty adorns the plain,
And peace and plenty unmolested reign.
Thrice happy Durham! would thy sons but own
The great indulgence bounteous heav'n has shewn;
To plant delightful scenes around thy soil,
And scatter blessings without care or toil!
Yet these, tho' free, without or pains or cost,
Because they're common, all their value's lost:
Heedless a thousand thro' their windings stray,
And mind no more than just to know their way;
Careless and unconcern'd the scenes review,
And pall'd with beauties sigh for something new.
For me, I ask no more than thro' this grove
With careless case and calm content to rove;
To prize it more as I the more survey;
And, as I view it each succeeding day,
That it fresh pleasure to my mind impart,
And print its lov'd idea on my heart.
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