The tapers glare amid the yellow groves,
Then the low requiem's heard,—the prayer to save,
And holy symbols mark the Christian warrior's grave.
Such were the pictur'd shadows that around
Bright fancy scatter'd on the enamell'd ground
From her rich urn—feeding the poet's mind
With visionary spells and truths refin'd;
And prescient of his future fame, bestow'd
The aspiring thought, and breath'd the words that glow'd.
Perchance by Harewood's tangled groves, or now
Musing upon the solitary brow
Of that dark rock, shadowing Sabrina's cave,
Her lily-paved banks, and pearly wave.
And, lo! rose other forms to meet him there,
The enchanted wood, the gentle lady fair,
The wizard's crystal glass, and that delusive chair.
Benhall, Sept. 1, 1832.
