Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.
This Ship was nought to me, nor I to her,
Yet I pursued her with a Lover’s look;
This ship to all the rest did I prefer:
When will she turn, and whither? She will brook
No tarrying; where She comes the winds must stir:
On went She, and due north her journey took.
Sonnets, however, like the following, entitled A Parsonage in Oxfordshire (vi. 292), give to a still greater extent the impression of monostrophic poems on account of the want of distinct separation between the component parts:
Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends,
Is marked by no distinguishable line;