---

Alexander Pope - On His Grotto at Twickenham
Work rating: Low

Thou who shalt stop, where Thames` translucent wave
Shines a broad Mirror thro` the shadowy Cave;
Where ling`ring drops from min`ral Roofs distill,
And pointed Crystals break the sparkling Rill,
Unpolish`d Gems no ray on Pride bestow,
And latent Metals innocently glow.
Approach! Great Nature studiously behold;
And eye the Mine without a wish for Gold.
Approach; but awful! Lo! th` Egerian Grot,
Where, nobly-pensive, St. John sate and thought;
Where British sighs from dying Wyndham stole,
And the bright flame was shot thro` Marchmont`s Soul.
Let such, such only tread this sacred Floor,
Who dare to love their Country, and be poor.
Source
The script ran 0.002 seconds.