Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 35 1834.pdf/20



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 Seem'd, 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;—awful and serene, They who had toil'd, watch'd, struggled to secure, Within such fabrics, worship free and pure, Reign'd there, th' o'ershadowing spirits of the scene.