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KENSINGTON GARDEN.
Stifled his words. When, from his covert rear'd,The frowning brow of Oberon appear'd.A sun-flowers trunk was near, whence (killing sight!)The monarch issued, half an ell in height:Full on the pair a furious look he cast,Nor spake; but gave his bugle-horn a blast,That through the woodland echo'd far and wide,And drew a swarm of subjects to his side.A hundred chosen knights, in war renown'd,Drive Albion banish'd from the sacred ground;And twice ten myriads guard the bright abodes,Where the proud king, amidst his demi-gods,For Kennas sudden bridal bids prepare,And to Azuriel gives the weeping fair. If fame in arms, with ancient birth combined,And faultless beauty, and a spotless mind,To love and praise can generous souls incline,That love, Azuriel, and that praise were thine.Blood, only less than royal, fill'd thy veins,Proud was thy roof, and large thy fair domains.Where now the skies high Holland-house invadesAnd short-lived Warwick sadden'd all the shades,Thy dwelling stood: nor did in him affordA nobler owner, or a lovelier lord.For thee a hundred fields produced their store,And by thy name ten thousand vassals swore,
