Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/104

 Soon o'er the hospitable realm they spread, With cheer reviv'd, and in Sabrina's flood, And the Silurian Tame, their textures blanch'd Not undelighted with Vigornia's spires, Nor those by Vaga's stream, from ruins rais'd Of ancient Ariconium ; nor less pleas'd With Salop's various scenes, and that soft track Of Cambria deep embay'd, Dimetian land, By green hills fenc'd, by ocean's murmur lull'd, Nurse of the rustic bard who now resounds The fortunes of the Fleece ; whose ancestors Were fugitives from Superstition's rage, And erst from Devon thither brought the loom, Where ivy'd walls of old Kidwelly's tow'rs, Nodding, still on their gloomy brows project Lancastria's arms, emboss'd in mould'ring stone. Thus, then, on Albion's coast the exil'd band, From rich Menapian towns, and the green banks Of Scheld, alighted, and, alighting, sang Grateful thanksgiving. Yet at times they shift Their habitations, when the hand of Pride, Restraint, or southern Luxury, disturbs Their industry, and urges them to vales Of the Brigantes ; where, with happier care Inspirited, their art improves the Fleece, Which occupation erst, and wealth immense, Gave Brabant's swarming habitants, what time We were their shepherds only ; from which state With friendly arm they rais'd us : nathless some Among our old and stubborn swains misdeem'd And envy'd who enrich'd them ; envy'd those Whose virtues taught the varletry of towns To useful toil to turn the pilfering hand. And still when bigotry's black clouds arise, (For oft they sudden rise in Papal realms)