Never shall I forget the sensations,
"----When first these glistening eyes survey'd
Majestic Oxford's hundred towers display'd;
And silver Isis rolling at her feet
Adorn the sage's and the poet's seat:
Saw Radcliffe's dome in classic beauty rear'd,
And learning's stores in Bodley's pile revered;
First view'd, with humble awe, the steps that stray'd
Slow in the gloom of academic shade,
Or framed in thought, with fancy's magic wand,
Wise Bacon's arch; thy bower, fair Rosamond."
In the bosom of a delightful valley, surrounded by the most luxuriant
meadows, and environed by gently swelling hills, smiling in all the
pride of cultivated beauty, on every side diversified by hanging wood,
stands the fair city of learning and the arts. The two great roads
from the capital converge upon the small church of St. Clement, in the
eastern suburb, from whence, advancing in a westerly direction, you
~120~~ arrive at Magdalen bridge, so named from the college
adjoining, whose lofty graceful tower is considered a fine specimen of
architecture. The prospect of the city from this point is singularly
grand and captivating; on the left, the botanical garden, with its
handsome portal; beyond, steeples and towers of every varied form
shooting up in different degrees of elevation.
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