The poem
Thou noblest monument of Albion's isle! Whether by Merlin's aid, from Scythia's shore, To Amber's fatal plain Pendragon bore, Huge frame of giant-hands, the mighty pile T' entomb his Britons slain by Hengist's guile: Or Druid priests, sprinkled with human gore, Taught 'mid thy massy maze their mystic lore: Or Danish chiefs, enrich'd with savage spoil, To Victory's idol vast, an unhewn shrine, Rear'd the rude heap: or, in thy hallow'd round, Repose the kings of Brutus' genuine line; Or here those kings in solemn state were crown'd: Studious to trace thy wondrous origine, We muse on many an ancient tale renown'd.
This is a wonderful teaching poem. The myths associated with Stonehenge are mentioned. I picture Warton standing at Stonehenge, overwhelmed by the magic of the stoney witnesses of time, and in his wonderment--he spouts this poem. It all comes to him, and he can't keep it inside. He is driven to next write it down, so that in some small measure, others can "relive" the magic through his words.