"In Cleveland's vale a village stands, Though no great prospect it commands; As pleasantly for situation As any village in the nation. Great Ayton it is call'd by name; But though I am no man of fame, Yet do not take me for a fool, Because I live near to this town; But let us take a walk and see This noted hill call'd Roseberry, Compos'd of many a cragged stone, Resembling all one solid cone, Which, monumental-like, have stood Ever since the days of Noah's flood. Here cockles ... petrified, As by the curious have been tried, Have oft been found upon its top, 'Tis thought the Deluge had cast up. 'Tis mountains high (you may see that), Though not compar'd with Ararat. Yet oft at sea it doth appear, } To ships that northern climates steer, } A land-mark, when the weather's clear. } If many ships at sea there be, A charming prospect then you'll see; Don't think I fib, when this you're reading, They look like sheep on mountains feeding. {153} Then turn your eyes on the other hand, As pleasing views you may command. For thirty miles or more, they say, } The country round you may survey, } When the air's serene and clear the day. } There is a cave near to its top, Vulgarly call'd the Cobbler's Shop, By Nature form'd out of the rock, And able to withstand a shock. On the north side there is a well, Relating which this Fame doth tell: Prince Oswy had his nativity } Computed by astrology, } That he unnatural death should die. } His mother to this well did fly } To save him from sad destiny; } But one day sleeping in the shade, Supposing all secure was made, Lo! sorrow soon gave place to joy; This well sprung up and drown'd the boy." It is confidently stated, in the neighbourhood of Osmotherley and Roseberry, that Prince Oswy and his mother were both interred at Osmotherley, from whence comes the name of the place, Os-by-his-mother-lay, or Osmotherley. THOMAS GILL. Easingwold. * * * * * ECHO POETRY. (Vol. ix., p. 51.) As another and historically-interesting specimen of echo poetry, perhaps the readers of "N. & Q." may not dislike to see preserved in your pages the following translation from the French. The original publication, it is said, exposed the bookseller, Palm of Nuremberg, to trial by court-martial. He was sentenced to be shot at Braunau in 1807--a severe retribution for a few lines of echo poetry. It is entitled "_Bonaparte and the Echo._ _Bon._ Alone, I am in this sequestered spot not overheard. _Echo._ Heard! _Bon._ 'Sdeath! Who answers me? What being is there nigh? _Echo._ I. _Bon._ Now I guess! To report my accents Echo has made her task. _Echo._ Ask. _Bon._ Knowest thou whether London will henceforth continue to resist? _Echo._ Resist. _Bon._ Whether Vienna and other Courts will oppose me always? _Echo._ Always.