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...THE LIGHTED WINDOW by SARA TEASDALE INTELLECT by RALPH WALDO EMERSON SMOKE IN WINTER by HENRY DAVID THOREAU THE FORSAKEN by C. HAMILTON AIDE BRITANNIA TO COLUMBIA by ALFRED AUSTIN OVID TO HIS WIFE: IMITATED FROM DIFFERENT PARTS OF TRISTIA by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |