Poet's Pilgrimage to Waterloo - Ghent

XXVIII.
Europe can boast no richer, goodlier scene,
Than that thro' which our pleasant passage lay,
By fertile fields and fruitful gardens green,
The journey of a short autumnal day;
Sleek well-fed steeds our steady vessel drew,
The heavens were fair, and Mirth was of our crew.

XXIX.
Along the smooth canal's unbending line,
Beguiling time with light discourse, we went,
Nor wanting savoury food nor generous wine.
Ashore too there was feast and merriment;
The jovial peasants at some village fair
Were dancing, drinking, smoking, gambling there.

XXX.
Of these, or of the ancieut towers of Ghent
Renowned, I must not tarry now to tell;
Of picture, or of church, or monument;
Nor how we mounted to that ponderous bell
The Belfroy's boast, which bears old Roland's name,
Nor yields to Oxford Tom, or Tom of Lincoln's fame.