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By hill, and dale, and mead, and greenswerd gay :
Till fated with the pleasing ride,
From the lofty fteed dismounting,
He lies along, enwrapt in conscious pride,
By gurgling rill or crystal fountain.
Lo! next, a Bard, secure of praise,
His broad mustachios, ting'd with golden dye, Flame, like a meteor, to the troubled air :
Proud his demeanor, and his eagle eye O'erhung with lavish lid, yet shone with glorious
In large wide boots, whose pond'rous weight
Not Garagantua's self might wear ;
Who, if we trust to ancient ballad,
Devour'd three pilgrims in a sallad ; Nor he of the fame germane, hight Pantagruel.
Acccatred thus, the advent'rous youth
creep ; But urges on amain the fiery steed Up Snowdon's shaggy fide, or Cambrian rock un
Where the venerable herd
Of goats, with long and fapient beard,
Now up the mountain see him strain !
Now down the vale he's toft,
With high or low, all, all, is woe,
But, o'er every peril bounding
And, tip-toe on the mountain's steep.
See, fee, he soars ! with mighty wings outspread,
And long resounding mane,
The Courser quits the plain.
The Bard, who shrouds
His Lyric glory in the clouds, Too fond to strike the stars with lofty head ! He topples headlong from the giddy height, Deep in the Cambrian Gulph immerg’d in endless
O Steed Divine ! what daring spirit
Rides thee now } tho' he inherit
Nor the pride nor self-opinion,
Which elate the mighty pair,
Prancing thro' the defart air ;