Which far beneath her feet expansive lie:
Flow pure ye springs! to which her lips she gives,
And her enfeebled frame. Ye unknown powers
Medicinal! impregnating those springs-

Hygeia's own-unloose your latent stores,
The nerve relax'd to brace; the vital tide
Exhausted to replenish: Oh! restore
The lovely stranger blooming to her friends
Affectionate, solicitous; to bless,
Through many a happy year, the pow'r divine
Who, by your means, her lengthen'd being gave.
'Tis done! the breezes, from the flow'ry vales
Freighted with balmy sweets, did softly blow,
Restorative; the crystal springs their stores
Medicinal and sanative convey'd

To her pale lips, and cheeks, and trembling limbs.
And see! those lips and cheeks e'erwhile so pale,
Resume the hue of ruby and of rose;

Those limbs e'erwhile so trembling, bear to climb
The mountain's summit, where-

-she stands

Entranc'd in rapture at the glorious scene,
Which, measureless and vast, extends around.
There, as on some stupendous altar, rear'd
To health's restorer, she, the hymn of praise
Pours grateful; then the devious path retreads,
Gently descending from the height sublime;
And soon, all healing Malvern! bids adieu
To thy salubrious springs and verdant hills,
Blessing and blest by those at home rever'd."

If so long a quotation should require an apology, we are eertain it will always be found, whenever the perusal of those lines shall cause the smile of hope to mantle round the hectic cheek of faded, yet still interesting, beauty.

Extending our walk either across the fields, or along the road to the Holy well, which we must pass, and proceeding nearly a mile further, we arrive at

LITTLE MALVERN,

which was also a religious house, but not so large and magnificent in its buildings as Great Malvern, from which it is three miles distant. It lies on a recumbent slope, near the entrance of an extensive hollow in the range of hills, and not far from the turning off of the new road to Ledbury; it is surrounded by thick hedge rows, which conceal it from the view, but render the approaches to it rather dirty and inconvenient. It was formerly a considerable village, though it now contains only a few houses; and, as far back as the reign of Elizabeth, seems to have been fully inhabited; for in Bishop Sandys's return to the privy council, it is said to contain thirty-seven families; whereas now, Dr. Nash observes, it contains a smaller number, which decrease may be owing to the dissolution of the priory, and disafforesting the chace; as the former supplied the poor with provisions, and the latter with firing, and food for their cows, horses, pigs, &c.

It was a Benedictine priory and cell to Worcester: founded in 1171 by two brothers, Joceline and Edred, who were successively priors here.* St. Giles was the patron saint, and it maintained a prior and seven monks until the dissolution, when it was valued at 981. and afterwards granted to Richard Andrews, and Nicholas Temple.

The Church is partly in ruins, and forms a very picturesque and interesting object, particularly where the ruins of the cross aisle on each side, with their Gothic windows and fine tracery, still remain. The outside of the body of the church, as well as the ruinous parts, is covered with mantling ivy, whose deep green in some places, is well contrasted with the glow of some remnants of painted glass, whose armorial blazonry speaks of times long past. But the inside of the building is poor in the extreme. Formerly the windows were filled with storied ornaments like those at Great Malvern. In the east window of the choir, were likenesses of Edward IV. of his queen, and their children; but these are nearly gone, as are also several monuments of great antiquity. Habyngdan

Tanner's Not. Mon.

don says that in his time, in the south aisle, there lay a knight all armed, saving his face; his right hand on his sword: his legs crossed, shewing him to be a knight of the Holy Crusade against the Saracens. On his right hand, lay his lady with her arms crossed, which he supposes alluded to her having accompanied her husband in his military religious pilgrimage. But almost all traces of these are now gone. Some armorial bearings and remnants of other painted glass may be seen in the windows; and there are several mural tablets and large atchievements near the altar; but all the rest is ruin and desolation, of which, on the exterior, the accompanying plate affords a very good idea. The floor in some parts yet exhibits the remains of a pavement once tesselated: and some carving, once exquisite of its kind, yet may be traced on an ancient beam.

Near the church is an antique wood-framed building, on the site of the Old Priory: its romantic and sequestered situation cannot fail to strike at first view, whether we look down upon it from the impending hill, or contemplate it from amidst the gloomy ruins of the church. But we cannot give a better description of its retired and solemu situation than in the words of a local historian, who observes that the house, which has lately undergone considerable improvements, (now the property and residence of Mrs. Wakeman,) has in front a fine piece of water, and commands various and beautiful prospects. The declivity of the adjoining glen, clothed with bold impending wood, and the hill receding above, afford an appearance pleasingly romantic. To the eastward lies an expanse of fertile meadow, variegated with trees, which add much to the beauty of the situation. Here, adds this pleasing writer, art has a venerable aspect given to it by timehere nature is rendered pleasing by her exuberance and charming simplicity.

To describe the romantic variety, the picturesque amenity, of the various rides of this charming district, would be to recapitulate much of what we have already said; for, indeed, every part of the high roads around it may be considered as leading to new

beauties.