WHERE Kensington high o'er the neighb'ring lands
'Midft greens and sweets, a regal fabric stands,
And fees each fpring, luxuriant in her bowers,
A fnow of bloffoms, and a wild of flowers,
The dames of Britain oft in crowds repair
To groves and lawns, and unpolluted air.
The Palace to which this Garden belongs, was the feat of Lord Chancellor Finch, afterwards Earl of Nottingham, and was purchased by King William, who greatly improved it, caufing a royal road to be made to it through Saint James's and Hyde Parks. Queen Mary enlarged the Gardens; her fifter, Queen Anne, improved what Queen Mary had begun, and was fo pleafed with the place, that the frequently fupped during the Summer in the green-house, which is a very beautiful one but Queen Caroline was the perfon who compleated the defign, by extending the Gardens from the great road in Kensington to Acton; by bringing what is called the Serpentine river into them; and by taking in fome acres out of Hyde Park, on which the caufed a mount to be raifed. Thefe Gardens are three miles and a half in compass.
Here, while the town in damps and darknefs lies,
They breathe in fun-fhine, and fee azure skies;
Each walk, with robes of various dyes befpread,
Seems from afar a moving tulip-bed,
Where rich brocades and gloffy damasks grow,
And chints, the rival of the show'ry bow.
Here England's daughter ", darling of the land,
Sometimes, furrounded with her virgin band,
Gleams through the fhades. She, tow'ring o'er the reft,
Stands faireft of the fairer kind confefs'd,
Form'd to gain hearts, that Brunswick's caufe deny'd,
And charm a people to her Father's fide.
Long have thefe groves to royal guests been known,
Nor Naffau firft prefer'd them to a throne.
Ere Norman banners wav'd in British air;
Ere lordly Hubba with the golden hair
Pour'd in his Danes; ere elder Julius came;
Or Dardan Brutus gave our isle a name;
A prince of Albion's lineage grac'd the wood,
The scene of wars, and stain'd with lovers' blood.
You, who through gazing crowds, your captive throng,
Throw pangs and passions, as you move along,
Turn on the left, ye fair, your radiant eyes,
Where all unlevell'd the gay garden lies:
generous anguish for another's pains
E'er heav'd your hearts, or fhiver'd through your veins,
The Princess Caroline, afterwards Queen of Great Britain.
Look down attentive on the pleafing dale,
And listen to my melancholy tale.
That hollow space, where now in living rows,
Line above line the yew's fad verdure grows,
Was ere the planter's hand its beauty gave,
A common pit, a rude unfashion'd cave;
The landskip now fo fweet we well may praise,
But far, far fweeter in its ancient days,
Far fweeter was it, when its peopled ground
With fairy domes and dazzling tow'rs was crown'd.
Where in the midst those verdant pillars spring,
Rofe the proud palace of the Elfin king;
For every hedge of vegetable green,
In happier years a crowded street was feen,
Nor all thofe leaves, that now the prospect grace,
Could match the numbers of its pigmy race.
What urg'd this mighty empire to its fate,
A tale of woe and wonder, I relate.
When Albion rul'd the land, whofe lineage came
From Neptune mingling with a mortal dame,
Their midnight pranks the fprightly fairies play'd
On every hill, and danc'd in every shade.
But, foes to fun-fhine, moft they took delight
In dells and dales conceal'd from human fight:
There hew'd their houses in the arching rock;
Or fcoop'd the bofom of the blasted oak;
Or heard, o'erfhadow'd by fome fhelving hill,
The diftant murmurs of the failing rill.
They, rich in pilfer'd fpoils, indulg'd their mirth,
And pity'd the huge wretched fons of earth.
Even now, 'tis faid, the hinds o'erheard their strain,
And strive to view their airy forms in vain :
They to their cells at man's approach repair,
Like the fhy leveret, or the mother hare,
The whilft poor mortals ftartle at the found
Of unfeen footsteps on the haunted ground.
Amid this garden, then with woods o'ergrown,
Stood the lov'd feat of royal Oberon.
From every region to his palace gate
Came peers and princes of the fairy state,
Who, rank'd in council round the facred fhade,
Their monarch's will and great behests obey'd.
From Thames' fair banks, by lofty tow'rs adorn'd,
With loads of plunder oft his chiefs return'd:
Hence in proud robes, and colours bright and gay,
Shone every knight and every lovely fay.
Whoe'er on Powell's dazzling stage difplay'd,
Hath fam'd king Pepin and his court furvey'd,
May guess, if old by modern things we trace,
The pomp and splendour of the fairy race.
By magic fenc'd, by fpells encompass'd round,
No mortal touch'd this interdicted ground;
No mortal enter'd, thofe alone who came
Stolen from the couch of some terrestrial dame:
• A famous puppet-show man, whose name frequently occurs in the
For oft of babes they robb'd the matron's bed,
And left fome fickly changeling in their stead.
It chanc'd a youth of Albion's royal blood
Was fofter'd here, the wonder of the wood;
Milkah, for wiles above her peers renown'd,
Deep-fkill'd in charms and many a mystic found,
As through the regal dome fhe fought for prey,
Obferv'd the infant Albion where he lay
In mantles broider'd o'er with gorgeous pride,
And stole him from the fleeping mother's fide.
Who now but Milkah triumphs in her mind?
Ah wretched nymph, to future evils blind!
The time shall come when thou fhalt dearly pay
The theft, hard-hearted! of that guilty day :
Thou in thy turn fhalt like the queen repine,
And all her forrows doubled fhall be thine :
He who adorns thy houfe, the lovely boy
Who now adorns it, fhall at length destroy.
Two hundred moons in their pale course had seen
The gay-rob'd fairies glimmer on the green,
And Albion now had reach'd in youthful prime
To nineteen years, as mortals measure time.
Flush'd with refiftlefs charms he fir'd to love
Each nymph and little Dryad of the grove;
For fkilful Milkah fpar'd not to employ
Her utmost art to rear the princely boy :
Each fupple limb fhe fwath'd, and tender bone,
And to the Elfin ftandard kept him down :
|