The storm subsides, the mount I gain,
Thence dart my eyes across the plain.
Full swelling to the sight, I found
First holy Paul's majestic round,
Thro' wide Augusta's smoak; and now
Rose lofty Windsor's tow'red brow;
Here glitter streams of vulgar names,
There slowly winds imperial Thames,
On his green banks, in level line,
Here spacious Hampton's turrets shine,
Whose windows kindling at the ray
Of Sol, beam back redoubled day;
Towns, villages, and pointed spires,
And smoak thick-wreath'd from cottage-fires,
And planted villas, intervene,
To grace the sweetly-vary'd scene.
O'er all my eyes transported range,
With every glance the visions change,
Till, drawn by beauties nearer home,
Along the lovely park I roam,
Now skim the walk, descend the glade,
Then plunge into the deepest shade.
Here flourish sweets in mingled bloom,
There (worthy ancient Greece or Rome)
Fair temples, opening to the sight,
Surprise each turn with new delight;
In pleasure lost, I wish to gaze
At once a thousand different ways,
Awful or pleasing, every part
Expands the soul, or glads the heart,
Great, open, liberal, unconfin'd,
Just emblem of its master's mind,
Who knows unequall'd state to shew,
Yet, gracious, stoops to all below.