 | Voices from the Lakes, and Other Poems |  |
90
SONNET. ST MARY'S CHURCHYARD, AMBLESIDE.
Beauty still lingers on the evening air,With golden Aureole the West is crowned,
The voice of children is the only sound
That breaks upon this spot so calm and fair,
Apt place for meditation and for prayer.
Ah, as I think of many sleeping here,
Who were to me amongst the known and dear,
This Churchyard to my heart is “holy ground!”
Sweet thought, “God's Acre!” Here the eye of faith
Sees that the tomb with living seed is rife.
This is to me no place of barren death,
For here are sown the quickening germs of life;
They that are laid here only seem to die,—
The grave their gate to Immortality.
| Voices from the Lakes, and Other Poems | |