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ELEGY,
Imitated from one of Akenside's Blank-verse Inscriptions.
Near the lone pile with ivy overspread,
Fast by the rivulet's sleep-persuading sound,
Where "sleeps the moonlight" on yon verdant bed—
O humbly press that consecrated ground!
For there does Edmund rest, the learned swain!
And there his spirit most delights to rove:
Young Edmund! fam'd for each harmonious strain,
And the sore wounds of ill-requited love.
Like some tall tree that spreads its branches wide.
And loads the west-wind with its soft perfume,
His manhood blossom'd; till the faithless pride
Of fair Matilda sank him to the tomb.
But soon did righteous Heaven her guilt pursue!
Wheree'er with wildered steps she wandered pale,
Still Edmund's image rose to blast her view,
Still Edmund's voice accused her in each gale.
