Page:Lewesdon Hill, a poem (IA lewesdonhillpoem00crowiala).pdf/16

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LEWESDON HILL.
'Tis meet we justle with the world; content,If by our sovereign Master we be foundAt last not profitless: for worldly meed,Given or withheld, I deem of it alike.
From this proud eminence on all sides roundTh' unbroken prospect opens to my view;On all sides large; save only where the headOf Pillesdon rises, Pillesdon's lofty Pen:So call (still rendering to his ancient nameObservance due) that rival Height south-west,Which like a rampire bounds the vale beneath.There woods, there blooming orchards, there are seenHerds, ranging, or at rest beneath the shadeOf some wide-branching oak; there goodly fieldsOf corn, and verdant pasture, whence the kineReturning with their milky treasure homeStore the rich dairy: such fair plenty fillsThe pleasant vale of Marshwood; pleasant now,Since that the Spring has deck'd anew the meadsWith flowery vesture, and the warmer sunTheir foggy moistness drain'd; in wintry days

Cold,

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