The Funeral, XXV

Soon reach’d the pebbly-studded strand, The oars are struck—the mourners land In Aldham’s pleasant bay; Upon the beach three chieftains stood, With litters form’d of laurel-wood, And crown’d with rosemary; On these St Baldred’s relics laid, With other honours duteous paid, They forward march’d in sad parade; Where all were willing—those were blest, To whom were given the high behest To bear the corpse away; Preceded by six vestals fair, Who tore the long dark glossy hair That fell upon their shoulders bare As clouds on mountain snow; Anon their lily hands they wrung, And mournfully the requiem sung In plaintive notes of woe.