Help did she give at need, and join'd Maid of the blasted family, Rose to the God from whom it came! Most glorious sunset !— and a ray Here walks amid the mournful waste Dim gleaming among weeds and grass, And sculptured forms of warriors brave; But chiefly by that single grave, 295 296 THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE. There doth the gentle creature lie 'THESE tourists, heaven preserve us ! needs must live A profitable life: some glance along, Rapid and gay, as if the earth were air, Sit perch'd, with book and pencil on their knee, Why can he tarry yonder? — In our churchyard Tombstone nor name-only the turf we tread Upon the long stone seat beneath the eaves Who turn'd her large round wheel in the open air * This poem was intended to conclude a series of pastorals, the scene of which was laid among the mountains of Cumberland and Westmorland. I mention this to apologise for the abruptness with which the poem begins. |