Earth spreads her charms, with flow'rs the meads are crown'd, And smiling Ceres pours her gifts around. How sweetly does the love-lorn nightingale Far from the madding people's furious strife, Beneath this straw-thatch'd roof, this humble cell, † + The Parsonage House, now the residence of the Rev. Daniel Pettiward, M. A. Rector of the Parish, and Vicar of Great Finborough; whose valuable and extensive library will afford ample gratification to the Bibliomaniac, and whose kind and hospitable manners will ever endear him to his friends. SONNET To Great Blakenham, the Residence of a Friend. BY MISS S. EVANCE. This small village is distant about five miles from Ipswich, and situated on the road leading to Stowmarket. Walter Giffard, Earl of Buckingham, temp. R. Will. Ruf. gave this Manor and Advowson to the rich Abbey of Bec in Normandy, to which it became a distinct Alien Priory. After the dissolution of these Priories, K. Hen. VI. ann. reg. 19. gave them to the Provost and Fellows of Eton College; and K. Edw. IV. confirmed the bequest. In this village resided the Rev. Edward Evanson, M. A. well known to the world by his controversial writings; a man of high literary attainments, and of the strictest honor, integrity and benevolence. Blakenham! although thy bounded scenes among No forests wave, no lofty hills arise, Whence far-stretch'd prospects meet the raptur'd eyes: No winding sea-dasht shores to thee belong, (Sublimities that most delight the mind) Yet, Blakenham, thy still meads, where riv❜lets wind, Thy corn-fields, waving 'neath the rustling breeze, And thy secluded copses-they are dear To me; and when I go far, far away, Full oft amid thy scenes will memory stray. Ah! virtue, taste, refinement pure are here; And these, when view'd by fond affection's eye, Give thee an interest-which shall never die! C STANZAS Written after visiting the Beach at Felixton, BY MR. BERNARD BARTON. The shore at Felixton is bold and steep, being composed of a hard sand, intermixed with shingle, and perfectly free from ooze; and the marine view delightful. The beach can by no means be denominated a barren one, as it frequently happens that very large and fine pieces of jet and amber are cast ashore, and picked up at low water. During the late war, several Martello Towers were erected here, at a very considerable expence, for the protection of the coast. On the cliff, about three miles from Languard Fort, is situated FELIXTOW COTTAGE, the residence of Sir Samuel Brudenell Fladyer, Bart. It was formerly a mere fisherman's hut, and was purchased by the eccentric Philip Thicknesse, Esq. then Lieutenant Governor of the Fort, for £55. whose taste, aided by the embellishments of his wife's pencil, soon converted it into a charming occasional retreat; and here they resided during the summer months. On relinquishing his Lieutenant Governorship, he disposed of this Cottage to the Dowager Lady Bateman for £400. about half the money which he had expended upon it. The beauties of this place have been fully described by Mrs. Thicknesse in her Memoirs; but great alterations have been made both within and without since the period to which her account refers: in particular, the arch, which she mentions as being formed of huge stones in front of the cottage, has been removed; by which a most extensive marine prospect is opened from the terrace that winds round the edge of the cliff. An engraving of the Cottage, when inhabited by Governor Thicknesse, on a reduced scale, was inserted in the Gent. Mag. Aug. 1816. p. 105. from a larger one, which is now become scarce. The mother of the present possessor purchased it for £2000. It is surprising that no one has yet speculated on the erection of a few Lodging Houses here for the accommodation of occasional visitors, who may wish to enjoy its delightful and invigorating sea-breezes in quiet and retirement. KNOW'ST thou the spot, on the verge of the ocean, Which Flora hath blest, and hath mark'd for her own, Where her votaries might fancy with fondest emotion, The power whom they worshipp'd presided alone? Know'st thou the beach, where the foam-crested billow Bears no chilling blight to the shore which it laves; Where the hue of the turf, fit for fairies' soft pillow, Is as fresh as the foliage which over it waves? Know'st thou the spot, where each breeze that flies over, Like the bee o'er the flow'ret, must linger awhile, For the woodbine and wild-briar woo the fond rover To sip the rich perfume with frolicsome smile? On that shore, where the waters of Orwell and Deben Join the dark heaving ocean, that spot may be found: A scene, which recals the lost beauties of Eden, And which fancy might hail as her own fairy ground, And if it be true that when mortals are sleeping, To sport on the confines of ocean through night: O ne'er could the daughters of Neptune discover A lovelier place for their revels than this, 'Tis a spot that might brighten the smile of a lover, And which angels themselves might contemplate with bliss! Enchanting Elysium! long, long may'st thou flourish, To gladden the eye with thy verdure and flowers; And may each future year which rolls, over thee nourish Thine exquisite beauties with sunshine and showers. And O may the taste, which hath plann'd and perfected This fairy abode, its full recompense reap; And, surrounded by sweets which itself hath collected, Long enjoy the bright Eden that blooms by the deep. ΤΟ THE REV. MR. MURDOCH, RECTOR OF STRADISHALL IN SUFFOLK. 1738. By James Thomson, Author of "The Seasons." The Rev. Patrick Murdoch, D. D. to whom this poem is addressed, was a native of Scotland, and was in 1729 engaged as tutor to Mr. John Forbes, the son of the Rt. Hon. Duncan Forbes, many years Lord President of the Court of Session in Scotland. With this gentleman he was sent abroad; and after some residence at Orleans and Montauban, went to Rome, and completed what is usually termed the grand tour. |