Page:Elegiac Sonnets 2.pdf/119

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'ER the high down the night-wind blew, And as it chill and howling past, The Juniper and scathed Yew Shrunk from the bitter blast.

Yet on the sea-mark's chalky height, The rude memorial of the Dane, Thro' many a drear and stormy night Had hapless Lydia lain.

When I a lonely wanderer too, Who loved to climb and gaze around, Even as the Autumnal Sun withdrew, The poor forlorn one found.