University of Virginia Library

XXXVII.

In solemn memory of the dead
Now from the choir the low notes spread
Of midnight dirge and requiem;
And to Fitzharding might they seem
As hymn of some angelic band,
Who on those honoured towers might stand
To guide the spirit from below,
And soothe with hope the mourner's woe.
But, hark! a full and deeper sound
Now answers from the cloister's bound!
Soon as that mournful chaunt was heard,
A gloom o'er all the choir appeared;

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While slowly o'er the high shrine fell
The foldings of the funeral veil,
Placed for the warriors' obsequy,
And dropped, at midnight Dirige!