Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.
28. “One morn I missed him on the accustomed hill,
Along the heath, and near his favorite tree;
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he
29. “The next, with dirges due, in sad array,
Slow through the churchyard path we saw him borne—
Approach, and read (for thou canst read), the lay,
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.”