et meditate his lays!
Not mindless of that distant age, renowned,
When inspiration hovered o'er this ground,
The haunt of him who sang, how spear and shield
In civil conflict met on Bosworth field,
And of that famous youth (full soon removed
From earth!) by mighty Shakspeare's self approved.
Fletcher's associate, Jonson's friend beloved.

The first couplet of the above, as it before stood, would have appeared
ludicrous, if the stone had remained after the tree might have been
gone. The couplet relating to the household virtues did not accord with
the painter and the poet; the former being allegorical figures; the
latter, living men.

What follows, I composed yesterday morning, thinking there might be no
impropriety in placing it, so as to be _visible only to a person sitting
within the niche_ which we hollowed out of the sandstone in the
winter-garden. I am told that this is, in the present form of the niche,
impossible; but I shall be most ready, when I come to Coleorton, to
scoop out a place for it, if Lady Beaumont think it worth while.

INSCRIPTION.

Oft is the medal faithful to its trust
When temples, columns, towers, are laid in dust;
And 'tis a common ordinance of fate
That things obscure and small outlive the great.
Hence, &c.

These inscriptions have all one fault, they are too long; but I was
unable to do justice to the thoughts in less room. The second has
brought Sir John Beaumont and his brother Francis so lively to my mind,
that I recur to the plan of republishing the former's poems, perhaps in
connection with those of Francis. Could any further _search_ be made
after the 'Crown of Thorns?' If I recollect right, Southey applied
without effect to the numerous friends he has among the collectors. The
best way, perhaps, of managing this republication would be, to print it
in a very elegant type and paper, and not many copies, to be sold high,
so that it might be prized by the collectors as a curiosity. Bearing in
mind how many excellent things there are in Sir John Beaumont's little
volume, I am somewhat mortified at this mode of honouring his memory;
but in the present state of the taste of this country, I cannot flatter
myself that poems of that character would win their way into general
circulation. Should it appear advisable, another edition might
afterwards be published, upon a plan which would place the book within
the reach of those who have