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It looks just like the rest, and yet that man
Died broken-hearted.
LEONARD.
'Tis a common case,
We'll take another: who is he that lies
Beneath yon ridge, the last of those three graves;—
It touches on that piece of native rock
Left in the church-yard wall.
PRIEST.
That's Walter Ewbank.
He had as white a head and fresh a cheek
As ever were produc'd by youth and age
Engendering in the blood of hale fourscore.
For five long generations had the heart
Of Walter's forefathers o'erflow'd the bounds
Of their inheritance, that single cottage,
You see it yonder, and those few green fields.
They toil'd and wrought, and still, from sire to son,
