Me turbid skies and threat'ning clouds await, / Emblems, alas! of my ignoble fate.

But see! the embattled vapours break,
Disperse and fly,
Posting like couriers down the sky;
The grey rock glitters in the glassy lake:-
And now the mountain tops are seen
Frowning amidst the blue serene;
The variegated groves appear,
Deck'd in the colours of the waning year;
And as new beauties they unfold,
Dip their skirts in beaming gold.
Thee, savage Wyburn, now I hail,
Delicious Grasmere's calm retreat,
And stately Windermere I greet,
And Keswick's sweet fantastic vale:-
But let her naiads yield to thee,
And lowly bend the subject knee,
Imperial lake of Patrick's dale!
For neither Scottish Lomond's pride,
Nor smooth Killarney's silver tide,
Nor ought that learned Poussin drew,
Or dashing Rosa flung upon my view,
Shall shake thy sovereign undisturbed right,
Great scene of wonder and sublime delight!