![[Header#^header-embed]] > [!SUMMARY] > These verses by [[Hester Thrale née Salusbury]] were about the fall of the Great Ash Tree in Offley Park in 1760. ![[offley_place_2.jpg]] <div class="caption">Offley Place. Date unknown.</div> > [!QUOTE] Written by [[Hester Thrale née Salusbury]]. [[Thraliana]] entry dated June 1777. > My Uncle’s[^1] first Wife[^2], Heiress of [[Offley Place]] in Hertfordshire, where I pass’d my Youth — _and hoped to pass my Age_ — was particularly fond of an old Ash Tree in the Park which was remarkably large & straight — & she called it _her_ Tree: > > in a great Storm which happen’d in the Year 1760. ten Months after her Death it fell, and I wrote the following Poem upon the Subject — The Lady deserved all I said of her, and had She lived ten Years longer I had been happy! — but her _Successor_![^3] > > ![[offley_place_1.jpg]] > <div class="caption">Offley Place. c.2010.</div> > > I, who erewhile beneath the Beechen Spray > Tun’d my rough Reed and pour’d my artless Lay, > Taught [Forrester’s Complaints in Verse](https://thrale.com/forrester_or_old_hunters_petition_life) to flow, > And touch’d his Lord with pity for his Woe; > To wilder Notes now swell the [Sylvan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sylvan) [Lyre](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyre), > Genius of Offley—aid me and inspire. > A towring Ash, well worthy nobler Strains, > Long reign’d supream o’er all the neighb’ring Plains, > Superior on the verdant Summitt stood, > Pride of the height, and Glory of the Wood; > Erect and strong, sublime in sylvan State > Nor fear’d the Blasts of Fortune or of Fate, > While high in Air he rear’d his branching head, > And round his ample Trunk the twisting Roots were spread. > Now by the blust’ring Winds and Tempests torn > See where he lies—neglected and forlorn; > Stretch’d on that very Spot dethron’d he lies, > Whence his proud Top aspir’d to scale the Skies, > A sad Example for the Great—to see > How vain the Vaunts of Earth born Majesty. > Alas my Plant! no more thy guardian Powr > Shall screen soft Females from the driving Showr, > No more thy Branches prove a sure Defence > To the clean Robes of rural Innocence. > Near thee no more when Clouds the heavns deform, > And the Grove shudders at th’ approaching Storm, > The nimble Doe, to seek her tender Fawn > By Fear emboldned bounds along the Lawn, > Trips lightly by—nor prints the pliant Grass, > Trips lightly by, but marks the chosen place; > On the close Covert casts a sidelong Glance > Careful to watch if any Foe advance; > Lest some hot human hand too idly mov’d, > Should taint with Touch impure—the pledge belov’d.[^4] > No more thy lengthy Leaves shall lend their aid, > To the poor Peasant panting in the Shade, > Who well refresh’d reviews the Fields he crost, > “; “;And finds the burning Labour was not lost:”;”; > For now the Hospitable Gates appear, > Those Gates far—fam’d thro’ many a rolling Year, > For welcoming the weary Traveller. > And now supported by thy Bulk he stands, > And counts the Ridges on the furrow’d Lands; > Or loitring leans upon thy Trunk to shun > The Insects busy in the setting Sun; > When [Titan’s](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titan_%28mythology%29) parting Rays the place improve, > And dart a double Lustre thro’ the Grove; > Far less delight the well-instructed Eye > Feels from the finish’d Tint and glowing Sky > When Sol in Claude’s warm Landskips we behold, > Break through the Trees, and tinge their Tops with Gold, > No more upon thy wrinkled Bark reclin’d > Pensive I listen to the whistling Wind. > Or when mild [Zephyr](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anemoi#West_wind_.28Zephyrus.29) breathes a softer Gale > Survey th’ abundance of the smiling Vale; > Where the ripe Wheat the Reaper’s hook attends. > And to the Scythe the bearded Barley bends, > Where the rude [Hinds](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ceryneian_Hind) express their simple Taste, > By the nice Rules with which their Sheaves are plac’d, > And in the level Line—and Knot fast ty’d > Fix their just Fame, and place their honest Pride. > But when the Plains no more rich Gleanings yield > And the light Shade flies transient o’er the Field. > When the Heat quivers on the fallow Grounds. > And the stanch Pointer beats the Flinty rounds; > Who scorns with Head up held the sultry Heat,[^5] > And treads the Stubble with unfeeling feet; > How happy then beneath thy Shade to shun > The fervour of the fierce meridian Sun! > Far off to see the dazzling Splendours play > While ev’ry Flowr reflects a double ray, > And the bright Stubble glittring in our Eyes > Forms a gay Contrast to th’ unclouded Skies > While the refreshing—Turneps vivid Green > Revives the Sight, and variegates the Scene. > > These Lays a listning [Hamadryad](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamadryad) heard > And sudden to my wondring Sight appe’ar’d; > Fairer than Passion paints the [Nymph](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nymph) belov’d > Or Helen’s Charms by [Homer’s](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homer) pen improv’d; > Fairer than when beneath bold [Titian’s](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titian) hand > A radiant Beauty breathes at his Command > While soft expression, and attractive Grace > Live in each Line of [Cytherea’s](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aphrodite) Face > Fancy, and Verse—and [Titian’s](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titian) Tints would fade > Plac’d by the Bloom of this Immortal Maid. > A Silver Girdle bound her slender Waist > Array’d in neatness, and a verdant Vest, > A verdant Cawl confin’d her auburn Hair, > Which parting on the Forehead left it bare, > An Oak’s broad Branch in her white hand she bore, > And verdant Sandals on Her Feet She wore. > So looked the Nymph less human than Divine, > Her Form enchanting as her Face benign, > Her voice like [Philomel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philomela_%28princess_of_Athens%29) the Silence broke > And thus with sweet Serenity She spoke. > > > “; “;Alas how wretched is the Race of Man! > “; “;Of Life and length of Days how idly vain! > “; “;A Breath their Being, and their Time a Span! > “; “;As [Sisyphus’s](https://web.archive.org/web/20210512072627/https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sisyphus) Stone must still recoil > “; “;To mock his poor unprofitable Toil > “; “;So vain to seek what heav’n has still denied > “; “;To mad Ambition’s Powr, or Learning’s lofty Pride. > “; “;And You Oh Stranger know—whose modest Lyre > > Implor’d my Aid thy Doric song t’ inspire; > When Death implacable and powrful Night > Wrapt **Anna’s** Vertues from weak Mortals Sight, > > > “; “;Veil’d her bright Form from our pursuing Eyes > “; “;And plac’d untimely’mong her kindred Skies > “; “;I left this Tree, till then my fix’d Abode, > “; “;And wander now the Genius of the Wood. > “; “;Then shrunk her favrite Plant, his Leaves grew pale, > “; “;Bow’d to each Blast, and sigh’d to ev’ry Gale; > “; “;For his fair Patroness ten Months he pin’d, > “; “;His faithful Heart consum’d, his head declin’d > “; “;Then feebly fell, faint yielding to the Wind.I > “; “;Oh hadst thou heard of Anna’s noble Ways > “; “;Thy Oaten Pipe had burst beneath her Praise; > “; “;Polite in Arts, in Erudition strong! > “; “;To celebrate her Fame how weak thy Song! > “; “;Her Fame to future Ages shall extend, > “; “;Steady to Truth, to Human kind a friend: > “; “;Like her lov’d Ash her boundless Bounty spread, > “; “;And stretch’d her Saving Arm o’er evry head; > “; “;Rejoyc’d when Merit met his due Reward, > “; “;Wept with th’ afflicted and their anguish shar’d; > “; “;Yet while their Pangs would force a Female Groan, > “; “;She bore with manly Fortitude her own: > “; “;None with more Skill explor’d the secret Thought, > “; “;None sooner saw, or later blam’d a Fault, > “; “;For Vice She griev’d, the virtuous few She priz’d, > “; “;Ador’d its Maker, but the World despis’d.”;”; > > This trifling Performance brought Tears into my Uncle’s Eyes, and Money into my Pocket for having celebrated so artfully I will own the virtues of a Woman he rememberd with Gratitude and Esteem. He read’em to every body he saw I believe, and in a few Weeks I received a letter by the General Post with Bath upon the Mark, containing many Prose Compliments, and civil Verses on the Subject. ## See also ![[hester-lynch-thrale-1741-1821🔎#^hester-lynch-thrale-infoblock]] #history/person/SALUSBURY/hester-lynch-born-1741 #history/person/SALUSBURY/thomas-born-1708 #history/person/PENRICE/anna-maria-born-1718 #history/place/england/hertfordshire/offley ![[Footer#^footer-embed]] [^1]: [Sir Thomas Salusbury](https://thrale.com/sites/all/libraries/tng/getperson.php?personID=I428&tree=tree01). [^2]: [Anne Maria Penrice](https://thrale.com/sites/all/libraries/tng/getperson.php?personID=I485&tree=tree01). [^3]: Had Thomas Salusbury died a widower, Hester Thrale would have inherited Offley Place. However, he married his second wife - the Honourable Mrs. Sarah King née Burrows, widow of William King, brother to the first Earl of Kingston - who inherited instead. [^4]: The Doe will never touch her Fawn again if you once take it into your lap and fondle it in the House—She will if you put it again by the accustomed Tree—stand at a Distance and seemingly lament it, but never suckle it more. Mrs Thrale. [^5]: This was written before the Game Act 1831 to preserve the Game by forbidding shooting until after the first of September.