Here was a wit who had
sipped his coffee at Button's, and there some mad Alcibiades duke who
had exhausted life ere he had finished youth, and yet might be consoled
for all his flashing follies could he witness the bright eyes that
lingered on his countenance, while they glanced over all the patriotism
and all the piety, all the illustrious courage and all the historic
craft, which, when living, it was daily told him that he had shamed. Ye
dames with dewy eyes that Lely drew! have we forgotten you? No! by that
sleepy loveliness that reminds us that night belongs to beauty, ye were
made for memory! And oh! our grandmothers, that we now look upon as
girls, breathing in Reynolds's playful canvas, let us also pay our
homage to your grace!
The chapel, where you might trace art from the richly Gothic tomb,
designed by some neighbouring abbot, to the last effort of Flaxman;
the riding-house, where, brightly framed, looked down upon you with a
courtly smile the first and gartered duke, who had been Master of the
Horse, were alike visited, and alike admired. They mounted the summit
of the round tower, and looked around upon the broad county, which they
were proud to call their own.
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