Any, in short—particularly you,

Submissive reader, to whom thanks are due

For having borne with my caprice so long,

And your forbearance, I hope, you will renew

Until the utmost limit of my song;

I'll do my best to entertain you all along.

XLIII.

The house of which I spoke to you before

Was Elleston Farm, nursed in a lovely vale,

Within the music of the shingly shore,

And close above full many a snowy sail,

On the blue wave, the wand'rer's eye would hail,

And the cool breeze from off the glist'ring sea,

Would bring soft reminiscence in its trail

Of scenes long past, of childhood's jollity,

And many a soaking ramble on a holiday.[16]

[16]

XLIV.

I must describe. It was a mansion old;

Across its walls each black yet mossy beam

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