Where, under Loughrigg, the stream
Of Rotha sparkles, the fields
Are green, in the house of one
Friendly and gentle, now dead,
Wordsworths son-in-law, friend,
Four years since, on a markd
Evening, a meeting I saw.
Two friends met there, two famd
Gifted women. The one,
Brilliant with recent renown,
Young, unpractisd, had told
With a Masters accent her feignd
Story of passionate life:
The other, maturer in fame,
Earning, she too, her praise
First in Fiction, had since
Widend her sweep, and surveyd
History, Politics, Mind.
They met, held converse: they wrote
In a book which of glorious souls
Held memorial: Bard,
Warrior, Statesman, had left
Their names:, chief treasure of all,
Scott had consignd there his la...