English poem
Epitaph - In The Chapel - Yard Of Langdale, Westmoreland
By playful smiles, (alas! too oft A sad heart's sunshine, by a soft And gentle nature, and a free Yet modest hand of charity, Through life was Owen Lloyd endeared To young and old; and how revered Had been that pious spirit, a tide Of humble mourners testified, When, after pains dispensed to prove The measure of God's chastening love, Here, brought from far, his corse found rest, Fulfillment of his own request; Urged less for this Yew's shade, though he Planted with such fond hope the tree; Less for the love of stream and rock, Dear as they were, than that his Flock, When they no more their Pastor's voice Could hear to guide them in their choice Through good and evil, help might have, Admonished, from his silent grave, Of righteousness, of sins forgiven, For peace on earth and bliss in heaven.
More by William Wordsworth
- England, 1802 (V)
- English Reformers In Exile[210]
- Epistle Dedicatory
- EPISTLE TO SIR GEORGE HOWLAND BEAUMONT, BART.
- Epitaphs 1810. Translated From Chiabrera I. Weep Not, Beloved Friends! Nor Let The Air
- Epitaphs Ii. Perhaps Some Needful Service Of The State
- Epitaphs III. O Thou Who Movest Onward With A Mind
- Epitaphs IV. There Never Breathed A Man