Britain ... - Blue-Lite

THE ENGLISH SLAVE;
OR,
THE EVE OF ST. BRICE.
A TRAGEDY.
" Thy castle yet,
Sweet Lyd, remains, of all the dwellings fair
That clustered once upon thy marge. Alas !
Profoundest silence reigns where rolled the voice
Of business on the fitful wind. No more
The crowded mart, the echoing street, where flowed
The human stream along.
The grave has closed
Upon thy myriads, Lydford : nought remains
Of thee and thine but that frail lonely pile,
Sole relic of thy ancient glory, where
Proud floating o'er the battlements, thy sons
Once gave the banner to the breeze."
CAKRINGTON'S DARTMOOR.