Ballades V - Of His Choice Of A Sepulchre

HERE I ’d come when weariest! 

      Here the breast 

Of the Windberg’s tufted 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 

      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 confest; 

      Ends my quest, 

Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover! 

ENVOY

Friend, or stranger kind, or lover, 

Ah, fulfil a last behest,

      Let me rest 

Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!