Note 357 — PART THE SECOND. (continued 8)

"How oft, upon yon eminence, our pace Has slackened to a pause, and we have borne The ruffling wind, scarce conscious that it blew, While Admiration, feeding at the eye, And, still unsated, dwelt upon the scene, Thence with what pleasure have we just discerned. The distant plough slow moving, and, beside His labouring team, that swerved not from the track, The sturdy swain, diminished to a boy! Here Ouse, slow winding through a level plain Of spacious meads with cattle sprinkled o'er, Conducts the eye along his sinuous course, Delighted," &c. &c.