Earth’s cultureless buds, to my heart ye were dear,
Ere the fever of passion, or ague of fear
Had scathed my existence’s bloom;
Once I welcome you more in life’s passionless stage,
With the visions of youth to revisit my age,
And I wish you to grow on my tomb.
LINES
ON THE VIEW FROM ST. LEONARD’S.
Hail to thy face and odours, glorious Sea!