It is in single lines the effect of the landscape he knew best is seen. By hedgerow elms on hillocks green. Meadows trim with daisies pied, are redolent of the Thames country. Milton's mother died in 1637, and was buried in Horton Church: soon after the poet went abroad. Another poet of the first rank who may be claimed by the Thames is Shelley, who was at Great Marlow when he wrote _The Revolt of Islam_ and _Alastor_. The cottage is now divided into four and is easy to see, as there is a long inscription, giving details about the poet's occupation, upon the front of it. _The Revolt of Islam_ was written partly as he sat in the Quarry Woods and partly in a boat; so it belongs peculiarly to the river. Matthew Arnold has already been mentioned, and many of his poems show strong impressions of the river scenery. He was born and is buried at Laleham, where his father, the afterwards famous Dr. Arnold of Rugby, had settled down to take pupils for the Universities. [Illustration: STREATLEY HILLS] Another name the Thames can claim is that of Cowley. The house in which he lived for two years before his death in 1665 is still standing, at Chertsey. It is easy to see, therefore, that the river can boast more poets of high rank than any other celebrated men. This makes it the more peculiar that there is no great poem on the subject. Above Molesey Lock, at Hampton, stands the house bought by the great actor Garrick in 1754. The place is known better by the little Shakespeare Temple near the water than by the galaxy of great names drawn thither by Garrick himself. We have in Fitzgerald's _Life of Garrick_ a living picture of the daily comings and goings; we see Mrs. Garrick discussing laurel cuttings with the Vicar, or eating figs in the garden with her husband, who was dressed in dark-blue coat with gold-bound buttonholes. At all sorts of odd hours Dr. Johnson burst into the family circle, and when consulted as to how best the ridiculous little "Temple" could be reached from the house, from which it was divided by a road, broke out in all earnestness in favour of a tunnel, as against a bridge, in the words: "David, David, what can't be over-done may be under-done!" One terrible night, when the sensitive actor read aloud from Shakespeare, his guest, Lord March, fell asleep. The sting was the deeper as "Davie" dearly loved a lord! The river fêtes Garrick gave were renowned, and the fame of them remains to this day; alas, the knack of river pageantry has long been lost! Carlyle, in later days a frequent visitor to the villa, once drove a golf ball through the centre of a leafy archway clean into the river.