SONG TO ALTHEA FROM PRISON-LUCY SACHEVEREL.

"The rest of his life was a series of the most cruel misfortunes. He was imprisoned on account of his enthusiastic and chivalrous loyalty; but no dungeon could subdue his buoyant spirit. His song 'to Althea from Prison,' is full of grace and animation, and breathes the very soul of love and honour

'When Love, with unconfined wings,

Hovers within my gates,

And my divine Althea brings

To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair,
And fettered to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air,
Know no such liberty.

'Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;

Minds innocent and quiet take
That for a hermitage.

If I have freedom in my love,

And in my soul am free,-
Angels alone that soar above
Enjoy such liberty.'

"Lovelace afterwards commanded a regiment at the siege of Dunkirk, where he was severely, and, as it was supposed, mortally wounded. False tidings of his death were brought to England; and when he returned, he found his Lucy ('O most wicked haste!') married to another; it was a blow he never recovered. He had spent nearly his whole patrimony in the king's service, and now became utterly reckless. After wandering about London in obscurity and penury, dissipating his scanty resources in riot with his brother cavaliers, and in drinking the health of the exiled king and confusion to Cromwell, this idol of women and envy of men, -the beautiful, brave, high-born, and accomplished Lovelace died miserably in a little lodging in Shoe Lane. He was only in his thirtyninth year.

"The mother of Lucy Sacheverel was Lucy, daughter of Sir Henry Hastings, ancestor to the present Marquis of Hastings. How could she so belie her noble blood? I would excuse her, were it possible, for she must have been a fine creature to have inspired and appreciated such a sentiment as that contained in the song; but facts cry aloud against her. Her plighted hand was not transferred to another, when time had sanctified and mel

A SIGHT FOR FOREIGN SOVEREIGNS.

lowed regret, but with a cruel and unfeminine precipitancy. Since then her lover has bequeathed her name to immortality, he is sufficiently avenged. Let her stand forth condemned and scorned for ever, as faithless, heartless,-light as air, false as water, and rash as fire. I abjure her."

And now, having seen all that Woolwich and its neighbourhood offers for inspection and amusement, let us make our way once again to the pier, where steam, our willing slave, awaits our pleasure. As we embark we once more see the dockyard, with its noble array of naval means, power, and appliances. It is this display which first meets the eye of royal visitors to our shores,Woolwich being their usual landing place; and what sovereign, however powerful, but must gather from the sight a right wholesome opinion of the strength, the riches, the energy, and warlike ability of "Old England."

* We may mention, in conclusion, that the botanist will be well repaid by a visit to the neighbourhood. Amongst other specimens, he will find, on Woolwich Common, the Lesser Catstail (Typha angustifolia); at the back of Charlton, the Starved Wood Carex (C. depauperata). On the banks of the Thames, between Greenwich and Woolwich, the Snow-flake (Leucojani æstivum) may be found; whilst further down, on the Long Reach Marshes, below Woolwich, the botanist may add to his collection the Purple Goatsbeard (Tragopogon porrifolius).

"On this bold brow, a lordly tower

In yonder meadow far away,

The ruins of a cloister grey."-SCOTT.

VER since pleasure steam-boats have plied

their way between London Bridge and the Nore, the little ivy-mantled church of Erith has been a sort of land-mark to the city excursionist on his passage up and down the stream. Yet, although the neighbouring village was most delightfully situate-a peaceful nest of cottages, sheltered behind by well-wooded hills, and skirting the edge of a broad, deep bay, with ships either riding at anchor therein, or

"That way sailing,

With all their bravery on and tackle trim,

Sails filled and streamers waving,

Courted by all the winds that hold them play"

few yielded to the temptation, and explored the hidden beauties of the place. Its green lanes were for a long time untrodden, save by an occasional tourist, till within this year or two, when a substantial pier was erected, and a smart hotel built, for the accommodation of visitors to this rural river-side hamlet. Now-a-days, almost every Gravesend steam-boat drops some portion of its passengers at this

GALLIONS, BARKING, AND HALFWAY REACHES.

pleasant place. Presuming that the reader and ourselves are bent on journeying thitherwards, we have our choice of a slow passage through the pool, or a rapid whirl by means of six miles' length of rope along the railroad to Blackwall, where, at stated times, we shall find a steam-boat ready to carry us to Erith pier.

Shortly after the long slanting roofs of Woolwich Dockyard are left behind us, we round the bend of the river, and obtain a view of the Ordnance practice range, near to which a notice is

affixed, forbidding ships to anchor within a certain distance from the shore. This passed, the Kentish coast is little else but a line of marshes, pleasantly diversified with a well-wooded, green, hilly background. At two or three points some slated outbuildings will be observed, nearly adjoining the river. These are powder magazines; and, at the piers alongside, vessels may occasionally be seen shipping or unshipping their combustible cargo. The Essex coast is one long flat, with, perhaps, some tree top, church steeple, or the roofs of a few scattered cottages, peeping above the regular line.

The first bend of the river, known as Gallion's Reach, and distinguished by its buoys placed, at the expense of the corporation of London, for the use of Indiamen coming into port, is followed by Barking and Halfway reaches. Barking Creek on our left, opens from the Thames. Vessels can ascend it as far as Barking, a small Essex town, a few miles inland, famed from its having been the seat of one of the first nunneries established in England. About the middle of Barking Reach, but some distance

GUNPOWDER HOUSE-ANNE BOLEYN-HALFWAY HOUSE.

in shore, lonely situate in the midst of the marshes, stands Eastbury, or Gunpowder House, vulgarly regarded as one of the meeting-places of Guy Faux and the Catholic conspirators of the Gunpowder Plot; but in reality a country residence only of the Lord Mounteagle, whose name is so intimately associated with the discovery of this atrocious conspiracy. In the same neighbourhood is another ancient mansion, also boasting a singular history. This is Green Street House, formerly inhabited by Anne Boleyn, who, whilst riding one day in this locality, is said to have received the first offer of King Henry's hand. The same authority states, that Anne was then in mourning for a young nobleman, to whom she had been early betrothed, and that she requested permission to complete the twelvemonth of seeming sorrow ere she gave her consent to the proposed match. Here this interval of time, we are told, was spent. From yonder tower, built for her sole pleasure by her royal lover, did she daily watch, with longing eyes, for his glad presence; and when, at length, she detected his burly figure, mounted on a swift horse, approaching the mansion at full speed, we can fancy the maiden trepidation with which she hurried to meet him, maybe at the outer gateway, there to receive his kingly salute immediately he dismounted from his panting steed.

At the extremity of Halfway Reach, on the brink of the Kentish shore, in full relief against a brilliant blue sky, stands a little whitewashed cottage, serving the purposes of a waterside house of

refreshment, and known to all passing mariners as the Halfway House between London and Gravesend; but we have already