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A rural Lord might dwell." "No feudal pomp,"
Replied our Friend, a Chronicler who stood
Where'er he moved upon familiar ground,
"Nor feudal power is there; but there abides,
In his allotted Home, a genuine Priest,
The Shepherd of his Flock; or, as a King
Is stiled, when most affectionately praised,
The Father of his People. Such is he,
And rich and poor, and young and old, rejoice
Under his spiritual sway, collected round him
In this sequestered Realm. He hath vouchsafed
To me some portion of his kind regard;
And something also of his inner mind
Hath he imparted—but I speak of him
As he is known to all. The calm delights
Of unambitious piety he chose,
And learning's solid dignity; though born
Of knightly race, nor wanting powerful friends.
This good to reap, these pleasures to secure,
Hither, in prime of manhood, he withdrew
From academic bowers. He loved the spot,
Who does not love his native soil? he prized
