O’er the blue hills beyond the setting sun,
They with their kindred joy, or nearer home,
Still lingering, wait until the father come.”
LXXXII.
Williams replied, that he would speak at morn
Of that far journey which the spirit takes;
And name the Guide, who never soul forlorn,
Whilst passing through death’s gloomy night, forsakes.
His brother, then, on fitting day in turn,
Would name the bounds, by rivers, bays, and lakes,