Well sang the Bard who called the grave, in strains
Thoughtful and sad, the "narrow house."[712] No style
Of fond sepulchral flattery can beguile
Grief of her sting; nor cheat, where he detains
The sleeping dust, stern Death. How reconcile 5
With truth, or with each other, decked remains
Of a once warm Abode, and that new Pile,
For the departed, built with curious pains
And mausolean pomp?[713] Yet here they stand
Together,—'mid trim walks and artful bowers, 10
To be looked down upon by ancient hills,
That, for the living and the dead, demand
And prompt a harmony of genuine powers;
Concord that elevates the mind, and stills.
FOOTNOTES:
[712] This phrase is used by James Graham, in The Poor Man's Funeral; by Southey, in Joan of Arc (book viii.); by Ossian (frequently); and by Burns, in his Lament of Mary Queen of Scots (l. 53). Wordsworth probably refers to Burns.—Ed.
[713] Finlarig, near Killin, is the burial-place of the Breadalbane family. "The modern mausoleum occupies a solitary position in the vicinity of the old ruins."—Ed.
XIV
"REST AND BE THANKFUL!"
AT THE HEAD OF GLENCROE
Doubling and doubling with laborious walk,
Who, that has gained at length the wished-for Height,
This brief this simple way-side Call can slight,
And rests not thankful? Whether cheered by talk
With some loved friend, or by the unseen hawk 5
Whistling to clouds and sky-born streams, that shine
At the sun's outbreak, as with light divine,
Ere they descend to nourish root and stalk
Of valley flowers. Nor, while the limbs repose,
Will we forget that, as the fowl can keep 10
Absolute stillness, poised aloft in air,
And fishes front, unmoved, the torrent's sweep,—
So may the Soul, through powers that Faith bestows,
Win rest, and ease, and peace, with bliss that Angels share.