To
Mrs.
Stephens
.
Thou
,
Sodbury
House
,
my
lov'd
,
my
sweet
Retreat
,
And
all
the
Beauties
that
surround
the
Seat
;
Where
Nature
smiles
in
all
her
fertile
Pride
;
Demand'st
my
Song
,
and
Truth
shall
be
my
Guide
.
Scarce
Eden's
Garden
more
divinely
fair
;
Alike
in
Fragrance
is
thy
balmy
Air
.
When
bow'd
by
Sickness
nigh
the
gloomy
Grave
,
Thy
Air
reviv'd
,
and
Heav'n
vouchsaf'd
to
save
.
Rev'rend
by
hoary
Age
,
and
old
in
Fame
,
Unknown
its
Founder's
Family
and
Name
.
The
Fabric
stands
a
venerable
Seat
;
Just
in
the
Centre
of
a
fair
Estate
:
That
wide
its
hospitable
Door
extends
,
Capacious
to
receive
a
thousand
Friends
.
The
Owner's
Soul
,
like
Goodness
,
unconfin'd
,
Diffuses
wide
her
Favours
on
her
Kind
.
Her
gen'rous
Breast
scarce
other
Pleasure
knows
,
Than
what
reflects
from
those
that
she
bestows
.
She
knows
with
strictest
Prudence
how
to
spend
;
Still
frugal
to
herself
,
and
noble
to
her
Friend
.
Fair
verdant
Avenues
the
House
adorn
;
And
double
Courts
the
bold
Intruder
warn
.
For
great
Beneficence
is
oft
oppress'd
;
And
those
that
can't
deny
,
can
seldom
rest
.
Wide
arched
Portals
grace
the
solemn
Hall
;
Where
wait
the
Poor
,
as
their
Distresses
call
:
Nor
call
in
vain
;
but
of
Assistance
sure
;
If
hungry
,
fed
;
if
sick
,
they
find
a
Cure
.
But
view
the
Parlour
;
here
Description's
faint
:
Its
Beauties
languish
in
my
lifeless
Paint
.
Its
wide
Dimension
,
well-proportion'd
Height
,
With
pleasing
Awe
command
and
charm
the
Sight
.
Here
Oliver
,
in
Britain's
Annals
fam'd
,
Frowns
awful
,
yet
intrepid
and
untam'd
.
This
Piece
a
Son
of
Spain
could
scarce
survive
;
The
Canvas
speaks
,
'tis
Oliver
alive
.
From
the
broad
Windows
see
the
Scenes
extend
;
Till
on
the
distant
Hills
the
Skies
descend
.
Within
,
around
exotic
Flow'rets
bloom
;
Fair
India's
Spices
shed
a
rich
Perfume
.
Nor
less
,
ye
lovely
Natives
of
our
Isle
,
Your
Scenes
delight
me
,
or
your
Blossoms
smile
.
The
fragrant
Jessamin
,
and
blushing
Rose
,
The
various
Woodbine
,
Pink
,
and
Lily
shows
Yet
liuelier
Beauty
in
their
native
Soil
;
Shed
sweeter
Fragrance
,
and
require
less
Toil
.
Here
hanging
Gardens
rich
with
Fruit
appear
;
The
golden
Apple
,
and
the
mellow
Pear
,
And
nicer
Plants
,
their
spreading
Arms
extend
;
To
tempt
the
gath'ring
Hand
of
ev'ry
Friend
.
On
the
smooth
Terras
,
set
with
Ever-greens
,
I
walk'd
,
delighted
with
the
lovely
Scenes
:
Where
Groops
of
Trees
around
are
artful
spread
,
And
meet
in
verdant
Arches
o'er
the
Head
.
Amidst
the
awful
Shades
,
from
Grove
to
Grove
,
In
Noon-day's
Heat
secure
and
cool
,
I
rove
.
Whence
Clouds
of
Birds
pursue
their
airy
Way
,
When
dawning
Beams
proclaim
the
rising
Day
;
Rous'd
from
their
leafy
Beds
they
hail
the
Light
.
I
gaze
,
delighted
with
the
Sound
and
Sight
!
And
wait
their
wish'd
Return
with
rising
Night
.
Here
rises
on
the
Plain
a
spreading
Town
;
Part
the
Sun
gilds
,
and
Part
the
Shades
imbrown
.
See
gently
gradual
yonder
Hills
arise
;
Till
blue
the
last
,
and
hid
among
the
Skies
.
Along
the
Side
an
ancient
City
spreads
,
Churches
and
Gothic
Spires
erect
their
Heads
.
Here
Seats
unnumber'd
interspers'd
appear
;
With
vocal
Woods
,
and
Corn
with
golden
Ear
.
Gay
Plenty
,
with
her
ever
smiling
Face
,
And
graceful
Beauty
,
dresses
all
the
Space
.
The
loaded
Vessel
there
securely
rides
On
Severn
,
proudly
rolling
back
her
Tides
;
Carrying
our
Plenty
to
each
distant
Shore
,
Exchang'd
for
foreign
Wine
,
and
golden
Oar
.
The
distant
River
courts
the
wand'ring
Eyes
,
Till
the
wide
View
in
ancient
Cambria
dies
.
Cambria
;
whose
hardy
Sons
were
true
and
bold
,
Scorn'd
to
be
Slaves
,
their
Freedom
never
sold
;
But
chose
to
live
on
barren
Cliffs
their
own
,
Disdain'd
more
fertile
Fields
for
Roman
Masters
sown
.
Here
view
the
wide
extended
Concave
bound
The
haughty
Hills
,
that
guard
the
Vallies
round
.
What
grateful
Thoughts
those
awful
Camps
inspire
!
Once
a
dread
Scene
of
War
,
and
Blood
,
and
Fire
:
When
conqu'ring
Romans
sat
in
Triumph
there
,
And
Death
flew
hissing
thro'
the
frighted
Air
.
The
slaughter'd
Natives
spread
the
Vallies
wide
,
And
drench'd
the
Meadows
with
a
Crimson
Tide
.
Now
Peace
her
downy
Wing
spreads
o'er
the
Scene
,
The
Camps
lie
harmless
on
the
level
Green
,
The
Noise
of
War
is
hush'd
,
and
all
a
sweet
Serene
.
Not
Cowper's
Hill
a
more
delightful
Theme
,
That
smiles
in
Denham's
Song
for
ever
green
;
Nor
Windsor
Forest
ever
fair
and
gay
,
Immortaliz'd
by
Pope's
harmonious
Lay
;
Nor
fancied
Scenes
in
Fable
Stories
told
,
By
modern
Bards
,
or
the
inchanting
old
,
Have
greater
Charms
than
Sodbury
,
dear
Retreat
!
Serenely
blest
,
here
could
I
fix
my
Seat
.
But
I
must
wander
with
unwilling
Feet
.
Thus
Adam
took
his
last
,
his
farewel
Round
,
And
mourning
left
fair
Eden's
happy
Ground
.
Happy
and
long
may
here
the
Owner
live
,
To
taste
those
Pleasures
which
she
loves
to
give
!
Long
by
her
wise
and
fair
Example
show
,
How
Peace
and
Joy
from
silent
Order
flow
!
With
chearful
Health
and
Friendship
ever
crown'd
,
And
deal
out
Blessings
to
the
Country
round
!