Like Nature’s chosen urn of peace,
Remembrance, like the evening star,
Begins a vigil ne’er to cease.
Each mossy rock, each fairy isle,
Inlets with thickets overhung,
The cloud’s rose-tint or fleecy pile,
And Echo’s wildly-frolic tongue;
The light and shade that o’er thee play,
The ripple of thy moonlit wave,
The long, calm, dreamy summer day,