Elegy, Imitated From One Of Akenside's Blank-Verse Inscriptions
Near the lone pile with ivy overspread,
Fast by the rivulet's sleep-persuading sound,
Where 'sleeps the moonlight' on yon verdant bed--
O humbly press that consecrated ground!
For there does Edmund rest, the learned swain!
And there his spirit most delights to rove:
Young Edmund! famed for each harmonious strain,
And the sore wounds of ill-requited love.
Like some tall tree that spreads its branches wide,