Since I wrote to you last my dear mother I've been To see all the lions which are to be seen Around this gay place--where 'tis much in the fashion, Small parties to form for this sweet recreation, So we lately set out on a very fine day, Our respects to the beauties of Knaresbro' to pay, 342 But a painter alone to your eye can disclose, A view of the scene as before us it rose, Presenting a coup d'oeil so simple and sweet, Yet so grand, so sublime, and in fact so complete, That I fancied the river as winding around, Was enclosing the spot as if consecrate ground And this castle crown'd scene will ne'er rise to my mind, Without claiming a sigh that I've left it behind, Thro' a beautiful grove we were led to be shewn, The fam'd Dropping-Well which turns all things to stone, Yet in silver ton'd tinkling the Naiad departs, Like ladies whose tears only harden their hearts. From thence to the cell[4] of a saint we ascended, By sage antiquarians most highly commended, Then climb'd to the Fort where an honest old pair, Would give you more pleasure than any thing there Tho' their mutual labours have spread o'er the soil, Astonishing proofs of their patience and toil. We trac'd the bold ruins still proudly sublime, Which yielding to man have found mercy from time, And adorn the sweet scenes they were rais'd to protect, With picturesque beauty more fine from defect; Delighted to find wheresoever we roved "His[5] Honour of Scriven" revered and beloved As e'er his forefathers have been in those ages, When the smile of the lord was more priz'd than his wages, When the sire of the land in the heart of each vassal Found a bulwark more strong than the walls of his castle---- From Knaresbro' to Plumpton our party proceeded A spot that no trav'ller should pass by unheeded, 374 'Tis a miniature landscape redeem'd from the waste As a species of show-box by nature and taste, Of small rocks and small groves and a pretty small lake, Where small parties aquatic excursions may take, And fancy they view in perspective the shores, Where Loch Lomond smiles or Geneva deplores.-- So well my first jaunt had agreed with my mood, That I went to see Harewood the first day I cou'd, 380 But here my description must certainly fail as, I have not one talent for painting a palace, But to draw the proud mansion and bring it to view Will surely dear mother be needless to you, Since at Chatsworth we Derbyshire folks have all been, You will judge I am certain of all that I mean, When I tell you groves, gardens, fine water, and hall, Seem the gift of good Genii to spangle this ball.