PART fenced by man, part by a rugged steep That curbs a foaming brook, a Grave-yard lies; The hare's best couching-place for fearless sleep; Which moonlit elves, far seen by credulous eyes, Enter in dance. Of church, or sabbath ties, No vestige now remains; yet thither creep Bereft Ones, and in lowly anguish weep Their prayers out to the wind and naked skies. Proud tomb is none; but rudely-sculptured knights, By humble choice of plain old times, are seen Level with earth, among the hillocks green: Union not sad, when sunny daybreak smites The spangled turf, and neighbouring thickets ring With 'jubilate' from the choirs of spring! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE MAN-OF-WAR-BIRD by WALT WHITMAN THE SPIRIT OF THE SABBATH by ISIDORE G. ASCHER EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 37. LOVE'S MY POLE-STAR by PHILIP AYRES STANZAS ON FINDING THE KEY OF AN OLD PIANO by E. JUSTINE BAYARD PACCHIAROTTO AND HOW HE WORKED IN DISTEMPER by ROBERT BROWNING |