traveller, and had gazed on several beautiful countries, was justified
in speaking with such affectionate admiration of our still more
beautiful England,

Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride.

It is impossible to put into any form of words the faintest
representation of that delightful summer feeling which, is excited in
fine weather by the sight of the mossy turf of our country. It is sweet
indeed to go,

Musing through the _lawny_ vale:

alluded to by Warton, or over Milton's "level downs," or to climb up
Thomson's

Stupendous rocks
That from the sun-redoubling valley lift
Cool to the middle air their _lawny_ tops.

It gives the Anglo-Indian Exile the heart-ache to think of these
ramblings over English scenes.

ENGLAND.

Bengala's plains are richly green,
Her azure skies of dazzling sheen,
Her rivers vast, her forests grand.
Her bowers brilliant,--but the land,
Though dear to countless eyes it be,