KESWICK.— SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT.

By William Lisle Bowles

How shall I praise thee, Beaumont, whose nice skill

Can mould the soft and shadowy scene at will;

Chastise to harmony each gaudy ray,

Simple, yet grand, the mountain scene display;

The lake where sober evening seems to sleep,

Hills far retiring into umbrage deep;

Blend all with classic, pure, poetic taste,

And strike the more with forms and colours chaste!