Capel Lofft

Troston Hall

FAR from the busy hum of men away,
Secluded here, naught of the world I see;
And almost doubt if such a place there be
As London’s trading town, or Paris gay,
Surcharged with crowds the livelong night and day.
That war is going on by land and sea,
That slaughter, tumult, horror, and dismay
Pervade the world, now seemeth strange to me.
And, as I pass the sweetly lonely hours,
Estrangéd here from bustle, strife, and care,
Surrounded but by woods and fields and flowers,
While Nature’s music floats along the air,
And Autumn all her various bounties pours,
I wish an erring world these scenes with me to share.