What high contents! illustrious faculties!

But the grand comment which displays at full

Our human height, scarce sever’d from divine,

By heaven composed, was publish’d on the cross.

Young.

There, where the cross in hoary ruin nods,

And weeping yews o’ershade the lettered stones;

While midnight silence wraps these dark abodes,

And soothes me, wand’ring o’er my kindred bones;

Let kindled fancy view the glorious morn,