BALLADE OF HIS CHOICE OF A SEPULCHRE.

Here I'd come when weariest!

Here the breast

Of the Windburg'stufted over

Deep with bracken; here his crest

Takes the west,

Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover.

Silent here are lark and plover;

In the cover

Deep below the cushat best

Loves his mate, and croons above her

O'er their nest,

Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover.

Bring me here, Life's tired-out guest,

To the blest

Bed that waits the weary rover,

Here should failure be confessed;

Ends my quest,

Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!

Friend, or stranger kind, or lover,

Ah, fulfil a last behest,

Let me rest

Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!

Friend, or stranger kind, or lover,

Ah, fulfil a last behest,

Let me rest

Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!