Inscription
Whoe'er thou art whose path in summer lies
Through yonder village, turn thee where the grove
Of branching oaks a rural palace old
Inbosoms. There dwells Albert, generous lord
Of all the harvest round. And onward thence
A low plain chapel fronts the morning light
Fast by a rivulet. Humbly walk,
O Stranger, o'er the consecrated ground,
And on that verdant hillock, which thou see'st
Beset with osiers, let thy pious hand10
Sprinkle fresh water from the brook, and strew
Sweet-smelling flowers. For there doth Edmund rest
The learned Shepherd; for each rural art
Famed, and for songs harmonious, and the woes
Of ill-requited love. The faithless pride
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