Rise heavenward. Ne’er may rock or cave possess
Their claim on human hearts to solemn tenderness.
OLD CHURCH IN AN ENGLISH PARK.[426]
Crowning a flowery slope, it stood alone
In gracious sanctity. A bright rill wound,
Caressingly, about the holy ground;
And warbled, with a never-dying tone,
Amidst the tombs. A hue of ages gone
Seem’d, from that ivied porch, that solemn gleam
Of tower and cross, pale-quivering on the stream,