University of Virginia Library


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WRITTEN AT BEVIS MOUNT, 1782.

Whether I rest in peace, till life's decline,
Within thy bowers, oh lov'd retreat! or stray
Far from thy shades, my wandering steps away;
To thee, the Bard thou shelterest, shall consign
The meed most due, of this memorial line—
Not formed by vulgar hands, in waving way
Bend thy slope banks, and woods that dim the day.
These elms, that o'er my head their branches join,
A Hero planted, one whom conqu'ring Rome
Had proudly crown'd.—And underneath the gloom
Of yon old oak, a skilled magician sung:
Oft at his call, these sunny glades among
Thy guardian Sylphs, Belinda, sportive play'd,
And Eloisa sigh'd in yon sequester'd shade.