Page:Beachy Head and Other Poems.pdf/128

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The chapel pavement, where the name and date, Or monkish rhyme, had mark'd the graven plate, With docks and nettles now is overgrown; And brambles trail above the dead unknown.— Impatient of the heat, the straggling ewe Tinkles her drowsy bell, as nibbling slow She picks the grass among the thistles gray, Whose feather'd seed the light air bears away, O'er the pale relicks of Saint Monica.

Reecho'd by the walls, the owl obscene Hoots to the night; as thro' the ivy green Whose matted tods the arch and buttress bind, Sobs in low gusts the melancholy wind: