The sweetest song to Memory dear,
When life's tumultuous storms are past,
May we, to such sweet music, close at last
The eyelids that have wept!"

Leaving the small oratory, a terrace of flowers leads to a Gothic
stone-seat at the end, and, returning to the flower-garden, we wind up a
narrow path from the more verdant scene, to a small dark path, with
fantastic roots shooting from the bank, where a grave-stone appears, on
which an hour-glass is carved.

A root-house fronts us, with dark boughs branching over it. Sit down in
that old carved chair. If I cannot welcome some illustrious visitors in
such consummate verse as Pope, I may, I hope, not without blameless
pride, tell you, reader, in this chair have sat some public characters,
distinguished by far more noble qualities than "the nobly pensive St.
John!" I might add, that this seat has received, among other visiters,
Sir Samuel Romilly, Sir George Beaumont, Sir Humphry Davy--poets as well
as philosophers, Madame de Stael, Dugald Stewart, and Christopher North,
Esq.

Two lines on a small board on this root-house point the application:--

"Dost thou lament the dead, and mourn the loss
Of many friends, oh! think upon the cross!"

Over an old tomb-stone, through an arch, at a distance in light beyond,
there is a vista to a stone cross, which, in the seventeenth century,
would have been idolatrous!