CROWNING a flowery slope, it stood alone In gracious sanctity. A bright rill wound, Caressingly, about the holy ground; And warbled, with a never-dying tone, Amidst the tombs. A hue of ages gone Seemed, from that ivied porch, that solemn gleam Of tower and cross, pale-quivering on the stream, O'er all th' ancestral woodlands to be thrown -- And something yet more deep. The air was fraught With noble memories, whispering many a thought Of England's fathers: loftily serene, They that had toiled, watched, struggled, to secure, Within such fabrics, worship free and pure, Reigned there, the o'ershadowing spirit of the scene. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SENSE OF DIRECTION by KAREN SWENSON INDIAN WOMAN'S DEATH-SONG by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE WIND AND THE MOON by GEORGE MACDONALD THE FIRST PROCLAMATION OF MILES STANDISH [NOVEMBER 23, 1620] by MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON STANZA by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON VILLAGE GREEN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN EXTRACTS FROM VERSES WRITTEN FOR THE NEW YEAR, 1823 by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |