What dreams of conquest flush'd Hilario's breast,
When the good knight at last retir'd to rest!
Behold the youth with new-felt rapture mark
Each pleasing prospect of the spacious Park,
That Park, where beauties undisguis'd engage,
Those beauties less the work of art than age;
In simple state, where genuine Nature wears
Her venerable dress of ancient years;
Where all the charms of Chance with order meet,
The rude, the gay, the graceful, and the great.
Here aged oaks uprear their branches. hoar,
And form dark groves, which Druids might adore;
Pride and support of Britain's conquering cross,
Which distant ancestors saw crown'd with moss:
With meeting boughs, and deepening to the view,
Here shoots the broad umbrageous avenue:
Here various trees compose a chequer'd scene,
Glowing in gay diversities of green:
There the full stream, thro' intermingling glades,
Shines a broad lake, or falls in deep cascades.
Nor wants there hazle copse, or beechen lawn,
To cheer with sun or shade the bounding sawn.