XIX.

Lo! where the stripling, wrapt in wonder, roves Beneath the precipice o'erhung with pine; And sees, on high, amidst the encircling groves, From cliff to cliff the foaming torrents shine: While waters, woods, and winds, in concert join, And Echo swells the chorus to the skies. Would Edwin this majestic scene resign For aught the huntsman's puny craft supplies? Ah! no: he better knows great Nature's charms to prize.