University of Virginia Library


324

SONNET XLIV.

To Matthew Barnard .
Matthew, whose skilful hand and well-worn spade
Shall soon be call'd to make the humble bed,
Where I at last shall rest my weary head,
And form'd of dust again in dust be laid;
Near, but not in the Church of God, be made
My clay-cold cell, and near the common tread
Of passing friends; when number'd with the dead,
We're equal all, and vain distinctions fade:
The cowslip, violet, or the pale primrose
Perhaps may chance to deck the verdant sweard;
Which twisted briar or hasle-bands entwine;
Symbols of life's soon fading glories those—
Do thou the monumental hillock guard
From trampling cattle, and the routing swine.
 

The Sexton of the Parish.