When Arnold gain’d the summit of the hill
(Where stood the ruins of an ancient mill),[235]
The last uprising on his homeward course,
And where the village baker came for gorse,—
Conveying it in paniers, on his horse
(For in abundance on the hill it grew),
The turrets of his mansion ’rose to view:
Then did his noble heart within him leap;
And when he first beheld the grazing sheep,
In those prolific slopes, down in the vale
(Where many a hunter’s blast had rode the gale—
Whilst in pursuit of the despairing fox,
And where Sir Humphrey and Sir Edward Knox
Had often tried the mettle of their steeds,
With Arnold’s father’s ——, ’cross those daisy-meads,
And woodland-acres, and yon distant Down,
Where nimble Reynards for their lives had flown);
Then did Lord Arnold picture to his mind
His lovely Jane, so beautiful and kind.
But yet he had to traverse o’er a mile
Before he could behold the beam, the smile,
The tender tear of joy; and hear that voice
Articulate the language of his choice:—
“Ah! Slash,”[236] he said, “I see the pale-blue smoke,
From the Lodge-chimney, ’scending through the oak.”
Five minutes more, the horses gently swerve,
And canter gracefully, around the curve,
Through the Lodge-gateway; there stood Hollybrand,
As meek as ever, with his hat in hand:
Arnold saluted him with right good will,—
“I’d hoped to ’ve seen you in at Ruttendell;
How is it, George, you were not there to-day,
Astride your pony, with my tenantry?”
George modestly replied—“I thought, good Sir,
My greatest comfort would be first to hear
Thy welcome voice near to my sacred home!”
“And are you happy?” “Yes,” he said. “Then come,
Secure the gate, and make your dwelling right;
And spend an hour with us at home to-night.”
[235] A windmill.
[236] The coachman.