Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/25

 Or like a ship some gentle day In sunshine sailing far away, A glittering ship, that hath the plain Of ocean for her own domain.

Lie silent in your graves ye dead! Lie quiet in your church-yard bed! Ye living tend your holy cares, Ye multitude pursue your prayers, And blame not me if my heart and sight Are occupied with one delight! ’Tis a work for sabbath hours If I with this bright Creature go; Whether she be of forest bowers, From the bowers of earth below; Or a Spirit, for one day given, A gift of grace from purest heaven.

What harmonious pensive changes Wait upon her as she ranges