The Banks of Wye A Romantic Circles Electronic Edition Robert Bloomfield (1766–1823) Tim Fulford Romantic Circles General Editor, Neil Fraistat General Editor, Steven E. Jones General Editor, Carl Stahmer Technical EditorLaura Mandell Unadopted_MS_PassageRomantic Circles, http://www.rc.umd.edu, University of MarylandCollege Park, MDOctober 10, 2010

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 Tim Fulford Unadopted MS Passages The Letters of Robert Bloomfield and His Circle A Romantic Circles Electronic Edition Robert Bloomfield (1766–1823) Tim Fulford Romantic Circles University of Maryland

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Unadopted MS Passages

British Library Add. MS 28265 ff. 48-49, in place of lines 1-42 of Book I of the 1811 first edition:

(Uley. Aug 7. 1807) (From Uley to Ross) Time was but young, the earth was gay <When Time's young curls embower'd his brow> And infant streams began to play <flow>, When <Huge giant> Scoop the Giant <with> with spade in hand, And all the Island at command, With puffing breath and monstrous stride Came thundering on by Severn's side. Fancy still hears his foot rebound, For <When> Stinchcombe trembled at the sound. Where <Here> Cambrian mountains caught his eye He gnash'd his teeth in jealousy And xxxxx xxxxxx xxxx Exclaim'd 'there shall be just such here.' <Towring to meet the distant sky Jealous he mark'd them one by one And dreading much to be sore the work out-done 'Out-done' he cried, 'Tis true I'm warm' But this bright prospect nerves my arm He shall be strong who calls me I too the mountain pile can rear Outdone, there shall be just such here.'> Then stript at once to set about it, (Look at the spot and who can doubt it,) But, at the moment he was speaking His arms <limbs> were stiff, his back was aching, For Mendip, and the western shore, The marks of his huge <recent> labours bore: So, wearily, and <Weary he rested,> full of pain, By Nympsfield, on the upland plain, He set them down with an envious smile <And with a gnashing envious smile> And <There> stuck his spade upright the while, And chang'd his mind.—There <But Then> spurning first, O'er Severn's Vale a cloud of dust, Again he pluck'd it from the ground, The crumbling earth flew wizzing round; Then dashing sternly to and fro, And <He> cut a casual hole or two; In one of which (a sweet one truly) Pigmies now dwell and call it Uley <Some modern pigmies built up Uley>; And Owlpen, by the dark wood side, Which none can find without a guide. And here, the happy natives stroll Around their green illshapen Bowl, A Bowl all zigzagg'd round about With one large gap to let them out. Twas from that very gap we started, Four Female Tourists <travelers,> merry hearted, Of charm, of power, of will <ample powers, of charms> possest To cheer the souls of all the rest, <Joy to insure to all the rest> Prepared to wonder, and to caper, And bring all Wales home—upon paper; With five companions in a row <protectors, healthful, strong, And cheerful as the days were long To point out beauties, stones, and more; To hold the reins,> and guide the prow <—and pay the score;> Xxx <And> one, aye one <xxx besides>, in idle trim Rode just where they would carry him, And noted down a thing or two, As having nothing else to do. So hark ye Candor, stand you by him, Truth shall direct, and joy shall try him; And you keep even, father Time, The light-horse gallop of his rhime; That gaily, lightly, run or fly, Shall move unclog'd by history In spirits high, and happy hour, Left Stinchcombe Hill <Uley we left>, and Dursley tower Stinchcomes hill black that seems to stride In conscious bulk towards the Tide And Berkeley's old baronial pride With blood of Englands Monarch died <And Stinchcombe's black hill that seems to stride Towards Old Oceans furious tide That inward roars while foaming by <with matchless power> Of roaring Severn> Where blood-staind Barkley's banners fly <turrets lowr> [continues from line 43 of Book I of the 1811 first edition]

British Library Add. MS 28265 f. 50, between lines 74 and 75 of Book I of the 1811 first edition:

An ugly Town, and those who chuse it, May stop on purpose to abuse it, But, being neither tired nor cross, We smiled, and drove away for Ross. The Malvern Hills, at times descried, The rock-bell on 'the Bailey's side,' And Penyard Xxxx <brow Hill,> whose steeps are found By one vast wood begirt around, A Farm enclosing on its brow, Where never sparrow from below 2d Was, in its confines heard or seen, 1st Check'd by its upright walls of green High beat each heart with strong desire And expectation's <Each prospect fan'd the> kindling fire Forward allready could employ The morrow's sun in varying joy Till expectation led away <In With> In rapture xxxxed <gaze viewd> the unborn day. Not that the scene around was lost Twas vegitation's bravest<xxxx> boast Full, and oermeasure, round us lay Qu Fix'd hills and one that ran away.*