O Tamar's flow! lowly I bend mine ear,
And listen to thy lisp that greets the shore,
Bearing Tradition's burthen soft and clear,
From the dim portals of the never more;--
Two voices spell me from thy mingled tide,
One, mighty ocean's whisper, murmurous, deep,
Telling of ventures glorious, that hide
Within its billowy bosom rocked in sleep;--
The other, rippling from thy crystal fount,
A tinkle sweet of elves, and fays, and flowers,
Legends borne down from woodland, vale, and mount,
Departed homes, and haunted shrines and towers;--
Flow on,--until this tranced ear shall be,
But one more memory that is merged in thee!
[Illustration: EFFIGY, PRESUMED TO REPRESENT
CICELY BONVILLE, MARCHIONESS OF DORSET.
ASTLEY CHURCH, WARWICKSHIRE--CIRCA 1530-5]