“Against yon Pillar careless now He’d lean,
“Smiling at what his wayward Fancy moves:
“Now drooping, wan, and pensive, wou’d be seen
“As one abandon’d by the Fair He loves.
“One morn I miss’d Him in the aweful Dome
“Along the Isle, and in the Sacristy;
“Another came, nor yet beside the Tomb,
“Nor at the Font, nor in the Porch was He.
“The next we heard, which did our wonder move,
“He was departed to return no more,