Quitting the Alcove, and proceeding to the Avenue, the declivity is "sharp and short, And such the re-ascent; between them weeps All summer long, which winter fills again." This little Naïad is nothing more than a narrow channel to drain the hollow; and we cannot repress our admiration of the unbounded powers of figurative poetry, which can raise the minutest trifle to the appearance of dignity and consequence. A few paces on the ascent stood a wall, which was continued across the grounds from east to west; the foundations may, in many places, be discovered: it served as an inclosure for cattle on one side, and, on the other, towards the house, for deer, with which the Park was formerly stocked. The entrance from one inclosure to the other, is thus described by the poet, who was favored by Sir John Throckmorton with a key, that he might, at all times, obtain ready access: "The folded gates would bar my progress now, Admits me to a share." |