For, while he dream’d, there came both pain and cough,
And fever never tamed, and bore him off;
Young as he was, and planning schemes to live
With more delight than man’s success can give;
Building a mansion in his fancy vast,
Beyond the Gothic pride of ages past!
While this was plann’d, but ere a place was sought,
The timber season’d, or the quarry wrought,
Came Death’s dread summons; and the man was laid
In the poor house the simple sexton made. 320