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!