Rev. John Granville

Clear was the morn, that saw me, pensive, leave, Pellucid Calwick, thy umbrageous scene; Morn, that beheld the sigh repining heave, And eyes unjoyous meet the blue serene.

But had those eyes beheld the azure day Mild in thy large and watry mirror shine, A glance more lively then had hail’d its ray, A lighter heart confess’d its power benign.