THE RETROSPECT.

Corston is a small village about three miles from Bath, a little to the left of the Bristol road. The manor was parted with by the monks of Bath, about the reign of Henry I., to Sir Roger de St. Lo, in exchange. It continued in his family till the reign of Edward II., when it passed to the family of Inge, who are said to have been domestics to the St. Los for several generations. In process of time, it came to the Harringtons, and was by them sold to Joseph Langton, whose daughter and heiress brought it in marriage to William Gore Langton, Esq.

The church, which in 1292, was valued at 7 marks, 9s. 4d., was appropriated to the prior and convent of Bath; and a vicarage ordained here by Bishop John de Drokensford, Nov. 1. 1321, decreeing that the vicar and his successors in perpetuum should have a hall, with chambers, kitchen, and bakehouse, with a third part of the garden and curtilage, and a pigeon-house, formerly belonging to the parsonage; that he should have one acre of arable land, consisting of three parcels, late part of the demesne of the said parsonage, together with common pasturage for his swine in such places as the rector of the said church used that privilege ; that he should receive from the prior and convent of Bath one quarter of bread-corn yearly, and have all the altarage, and all small tithes of beans and other blade growing in the cottage enclosures and cultivated curtilages throughout the parish; that the religious aforesaid and their successors, as rectors of the said church, should have all the arable land, with a park belonging to the land (the acre above mentioned only excepted), and receive all great

tithes, as well of corn as of hay; the said religious to sustain all burdens, ordinary and extraordinary, incumbent on the church as rectors thereof. The prior of Bath had a yearly pension out of the vicarage of 4s. Collinson's Hist. of Somersetshire, vol. iii. pp. 341-347.

The mansion, which is represented both in the frontispiece and vignette of this volume, is now occupied as a farm-house.

ON as I journey through the vale of years, By hopes enliven'd, or deprest by fears, Allow me, Memory, in thy treasured store, To view the days that will return no more. And yes ! before thine intellectual ray, The clouds of mental darkness melt away! As when, at earliest day's awakening dawn, The hovering mists obscure the dewy lawn, O'er all the landscape spread their influence chill, Hang o'er the vale and wood, and hide the hill, Anon, slow-rising, comes the orb of day, Slow fade the shadowy mists and roll away, The prospect opens on the traveller's sight, And hills and vales and woods reflect the living light.

O thou, the mistress of my future days,
Accept thy minstrel's retrospective lays ;
To whom the minstrel and the lyre belong,
Accept, my EDITH, Memory's pensive song.
Of long-past days I sing, ere yet I knew
Or thought and grief, or happiness and you;
Ere yet my infant heart had learnt to prove
The cares of life, the hopes and fears of love,

Corston, twelve years in various fortunes fled Have past with restless progress o'er my head, Since in thy vale beneath the master's rule

I dwelt an inmate of the village school.
Yet still will Memory's busy eye retrace
Each little vestige of the well-known place;
Each wonted haunt and scene of youthful joy,
Where merriment has cheer'd the careless boy;
Well-pleased will fancy still the spot survey
Where once he triumph'd in the boyish play,
Without one care where every morn he rose,
Where every evening sunk to calm repose.

Large was the house, though fallen in course of fate From its old grandeur and manorial state. Lord of the manor, here the jovial Squire Once call'd his tenants round the crackling fire; Here while the glow of joy suffused his face, He told his ancient exploits in the chase, And, proud his rival sportsmen to surpass, He lit again the pipe, and fill'd again the glass.

But now no more was heard at early morn
The echoing clangor of the huntsman's horn;
No more the eager hounds with deepening cry
Leapt round him as they knew their pastime nigh;
The Squire no more obey'd the morning call,
Nor favourite spaniels fill'd the sportsman's hall;
For he, the last descendant of his race,
Slept with his fathers, and forgot the chase.
There now in petty empire o'er the school
The mighty master held despotic rule;

Trembling in silence all his deeds we saw, His look a mandate, and his word a law; Severe his voice, severe and stern his mien, And wondrous strict he was, and wondrous wise I ween.

Even now through many a long long year
I trace
The hour when first with awe I view'd his face;
Even now recall my entrance at the dome,..
'T was the first day I ever left my home i
Years intervening have not worn away
The deep remembrance of that wretched day,
Nor taught me to forget my earliest fears,
A mother's fondness, and a mother's tears;
When close she prest me to her sorrowing heart,
As loth as even I myself to part;

And I, as I beheld her sorrows flow,
With painful effort hid my inward woe.

But time to youthful troubles brings relief,
And each new object weans the child from grief.
Like April showers the tears of youth descend,
Sudden they fall, and suddenly they end,

And fresher pleasure cheers the following hour, As brighter shines the sun after the April shower.

Methinks even now the interview I see,
The Mistress's glad smile, the Master's glee;
Much of my future happiness they said,
Much of the easy life the scholars led,

Of spacious play-ground and of wholesome air,
The best instruction and the tenderest care;