Yet, the loud torrent's dark retreat, Yet Grampian hills shall Fancy give, And, towering in her giddy scat, Amidst her own creation live, Live, if thou'lt urge my climbing feet, Give strength of nerve and vigorous breath, If not, with dauntless soul I meet The deep solemnity of death. This far-seen monumental tower Records th' achievements of the brave, And Angria's subjugated power, Who plunder'd on the eastern wave. I would not that such turrets rise To point out where my bones arc laid; Save that some wandering bard might prize The comforts of its broad cool shade. O Vanity! since thou'rt decreed Companion of our lives to be, I'll seek the moral songster's meed, An earthly immortality; Most vain!--O let me, from the past Remembering what to man is given, Lay Virtue's broad foundations fast, Whose glorious turrets reach to Heav'n: A VISIT TO RENELAGH To Ranelagh, once in my life, By good-natur'd force I was driv'n; The nations had ceas'd their long strife, And PEACE[1] beam'd her radiance from Heav'n. What wonders-were there to be found That a clown might enjoy or disdain? First we trac'd the gay ring all around, Aye--and then we went round it again. [Footnote 1: A grand Fete, in honour of the peace of 1802.] A thousand feet rustled on mats, A carpet that once had been green; Men bow'd with their outlandish hats, With corners so fearfully keen! Fair maids, who at home in their haste Had left all clothing else but a train, Swept the floor clean, as slowly they pac'd, And then--walk'd round and swept it again. The music was truly enchanting! Right glad was I when I came near it; But in fashion I found I was wanting:-- 'Twas the fashion to walk and not hear it! A fine youth, as beauty beset him, Look'd smilingly round on the train; "The king's nephew," they cried, as they met him; Then--we went round and met him again. Huge paintings of Heroes and Peace Seem'd to smile at the sound of the fiddle, Proud to fill up each tall shining space Round the lanthorn[1] that stood in the middle. And GEORGE'S head too; Heav'n screen him! May he finish in peace his long reign! And what did we when we had seen him? Why--went round and saw him again. [Footnote 1: The intervals between the pillars in the centre of the Rotunda were filled up by transparent paintings] A bell rang, announcing new pleasures, A crowd in an instant prest hard, Feathers nodded, perfumes shed their treasures. Round a door that led into the yard. 'Twas peopled all o'er in a minute, As a white flock would cover a plain! We had seen every soul that was in it, Then we went round and saw them again.