“On the spot where the green-house now stands, there was formerly a chapel, dedicated to St. Leonard; who was certainly esteemed as a tutelar saint of Windsor Forest and its purlieus, for the place we left was originally a hermitage founded in honour of him. We have no relics of the saint; but we have an old covered bench with many remains of the wit of my lord Bathurst's visitors, who inscribed verses upon it. Here is the writing of Addison, Pope, Prior, Congreve, Gay, and, what he esteemed no less, of several fine ladies. I cannot say that the verses answered my expectation from such authors; we have however all resolved to follow the fashion, and to add some of our own to the collection. That you may not be surprized at our courage for daring to write after such great names, I will transcribe one of the old ones, which I think as good as any of them: Who set the trees shall he remember That is in haste to fell the timber? What then shall of thy woods remain, Except the box that threw the main? There has been only one added as yet by our company, which is tolerably numerous at present. I scarcely know whether it is worth reading or not: By Bathurst planted, first these shades arose; Prior and Pope have sung beneath these boughs: Here Addison his moral theme pursued, And social Gay has cheer'd the solitude. There is one walk that I am extremely partial to, and which is rightly called the Abbey-walk, since it is composed of prodigiously high beech-trees, that form an arch through the whole length, exactly resembling a cloister. At the end is a statue; and about the middle a tolerably large circle, with Windsor chairs round it: and I think, for a person of contemplative disposition, one would scarcely find a more venerable shade in any poetical description.” She had amused herself with improving the grounds of Percy Lodge before her husband's death, as much for his delight as her own. “Those shady elms, my favourite trees, Which near my Percy's window grew, (Studious his leisure hours to please) I decked last year for smell and shew; To each a fragrant woodbine bound, And edged with pinks the verdant mound. Nor yet the areas left ungraced Betwixt the borders and each tree; But on them damask roses placed, Which rising in a just degree, Their glowing lustre through the green Might add fresh beauties to the scene.”