Say, father  whose gentle pace
Gives leave to view what beauties grace
Your flow'ry banks, if you have seen
The much sung GROTTO of the queen.
Contemplative, forget awhile
towers, and  pile,
And  pride (his greatest guilt)
And what great  since has built;
And flowing fast by  scenes,
(Honour'd retreat of two great queens)
From  whose proud survey
Brow-beats your flood, look cross the way,
And view, from highest swell of tide,
The milder scenes of  side.