30
POEMS.
The Mourners past, alone marked out to view
By weeds of black; the Crowd were Mourners too:
And though nor flowing scarves nor sable dress
Declared by outward signs the mind's distress,
They wore [what grief of heart more surely speaks]
Swoll'n eyes, dejected looks, and bloodless cheeks.
It seemed, as slowly swung the passing bell,
On each full heart the solemn chimings fell:
Methought, on every lip a blessing hung,
But pious awe restrained the obedient tongue.
Each limb shook agueish; scarce a cheek was dry;
And blinded by the gush of tears, each eye
Spoke in the native tongue of genuine woe,
—"We come to weep the friend; not to admire the show."———
By weeds of black; the Crowd were Mourners too:
And though nor flowing scarves nor sable dress
Declared by outward signs the mind's distress,
They wore [what grief of heart more surely speaks]
Swoll'n eyes, dejected looks, and bloodless cheeks.
It seemed, as slowly swung the passing bell,
On each full heart the solemn chimings fell:
Methought, on every lip a blessing hung,
But pious awe restrained the obedient tongue.
Each limb shook agueish; scarce a cheek was dry;
And blinded by the gush of tears, each eye
Spoke in the native tongue of genuine woe,
—"We come to weep the friend; not to admire the show."———
Hail, hallowed Towers[1]!—Oh! spread your portals wide;
Guest more illustrious never swelled your pride!
Guest more illustrious never swelled your pride!
- ↑ Westminster Abbey.
