XLVIII. AT FURNESS ABBEY. WELL have yon Railway Labourers to THIS ground Withdrawn for noontide rest. They sit, they walk Among the Ruins, but no idle talk 6 Is heard; to grave demeanour all are bound; And from one voice a Hymn with tuneful sound Hallows once more the long-deserted Quire And thrills the old sepulchral earth, around. Others look up, and with fixed eyes admire That wide-spanned arch, wondering how it was raised, To keep, so high in air, its strength and grace: June 21, 1845. 5 THE gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains Into the tracts of darkness and of cold; ΙΟ 15 Power in my breast, wings growing in my mind, Then, when some rock or hill is overpast, Perchance without one look behind me cast, Some barrier with which Nature, from the birth Of things, has fenced this fairest spot on earth. O pleasant transit, Grasmere! to resign. 25 Yet still with Nature's freedom at the heart;- For a brief absence, proves that love is true; 30 1811. II. AT THE GRAVE OF BURNS. 1803. SEVEN YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH. I SHIVER, Spirit fierce and bold, As vapours breathed from dungeons cold So sadness comes from out the mould And have I then thy bones so near, And both my wishes and my Alike are vain. fear Off weight-nor press on weight!-away To him, and aught that hides his clay Fresh as the flower, whose modest worth Doth glorify its humble birth With matchless beams. The piercing eye, the thoughtful brow, Full soon the Aspirant of the plough, The prompt, the brave, Slept, with the obscurest, in the low I mourned with thousands, but as one How Verse may build a princely throne Alas! where'er the current tends, By Skiddaw seen, Neighbours we were, and loving friends We might have been; 15 20 25 30 35 40 True friends though diversely inclined; But heart with heart and mind with mind, Through Nature's skill, May even by contraries be joined The tear will start, and let it flow; poor Inhabitant below," Thou " At this dread moment-even so— Might we together Have sate and talked where gowans blow, Or on wild heather. 45 50 What treasures would have then been placed 55 But why go on? Oh! spare to sweep, thou mournful blast, There, too a Son, his joy and pride, Soul-moving sight! Yet one to which is not denied Some sad delight. For he is safe, a quiet bed Hath early found among the dead, And surely here it may be said That such are blest. 60 65 70 |