Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 2.djvu/341

333 Now is there not good reason to break forth

Into a passionate lament?—O Soul!

Short while a Pilgrim in our nether world,

Do thou enjoy the calm empyreal air;

And round this earthly tomb let roses rise,

An everlasting spring! in memory

Of that delightful fragrance which was once,

From thy mild manners, quietly exhaled.